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Scarlett Wilsten

"I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead."

0 · 601 views · located in Washington, USA

a character in “Blood which Binds”, originally authored by supertoastgirl, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Fallen Blood Pet


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Name: Scarlett Annabelle Wilsten

Nickname(s): Scar

Age: twenty-two

Birthday: June twenty-sixth, 1989

Bloodtype: A-

Place of Origin: Seattle, Washington


Likes:
- The thrill of being fed on
- Playing piano
- Music (especially classical piano)
- Red lipstick
- Rough sex
- Doing things on a whim
- Confident people

Dislikes:
- Hard alcohol
- Arrogant men
- Father figures
- The summer
- Roses
- Baths

Fear(s):
- Being trapped in one place
- Being beat to death
- Never finding true happiness
- The Fallen leaving her to her old life

Secret(s):
Scarlett was raised in the dirt of the city, and with poverty comes the stereotype of being unintelligent. However, Scar is very bright, with an IQ of 143. She had always been ashamed of her intelligence though, and tries to play dumb. long with that she is highly gifted at playing the piano, but shies away from having others hear her play. Scar, although it may seem obvious, has always had a deep attraction toward Oliver.


Personality:
Sociable, but often times doesn’t make real connections with individuals. Scar has always had the ability to make anyone feel better, whether it be with her words or otherwise. She has a hard time making friends though, having had trust issues since she was a young child.

Her flirty attitude and unpredictability keeps the coven members on their toes. Scarlett loves to push a little too far, and sometimes seeks to unsettle others. She had a stubborn quality that is not only tireless but also dangerous. Once any affection is given to her, she tends to cling to it; needing the love she lacked as a child.

Although brainy and useful, she lacks motivation. She never well in school, although she was perfectly capable. She could have gone to a university and rid herself of the poverty cycle, but Scar never pursued her academics.



History:
Scarlett Wilsten was born to Misha Craiberg and Danny Wilsten in the slumps of the city. They were dirt poor retail workers, who had never planned on having a child, let alone together. Misha and Danny had only been dating a month when they discovered the expectancy of their first and only child. The two debated abortion, but Misha couldn’t let go of her unborn child. During the pregnancy, their relationship was turned upside down and Misha discovered the violence of Danny that controlled the two of them.

Soon, Scarlett born into their dysfunctional family. With all the physical and verbal abuse from Danny, Misha slowly lost her sense of life. However terrible they were to each other, Danny and Misha stayed together for the next eight years; bringing Scarlett into their whirlwind. By the time Scar was six years old she had had her arm broken twice by her father in a fit of rage. And at age seven, after a teacher had come to speak with her parents about her brilliance, Scar was told that she never amount to anything more than a street rat.

With eight years of torture, Misha was stuck in a constant state of depression. She ended her bruised and bloodied life with a bullet to the head, leaving behind her baby girl. Scarlett, as she grew older had always wished that her mother had shot that bullet into her father’s head. With ten years of confusion and psychological turmoil, Scarlett was in and out of a home. When she first entered high school she and her father were homeless and unemployed, staying in his large cargo van. Debt controlled her father’s life, and he often times had visitors come in the middle of the night to collect their sum. To cope with her abuse, she buried herself in drugs and sex. Multiple nights a week she would be out with her latest boyfriend fooling around.

One night at the ripe age of fifteen, she had gone out on her own to find a new thrill; anything that would help her forget. It was that night when a Fallen vampire had taken her on; it was like nothing she had ever experienced. It was beyond pleasure and she had become completely obsessed. The next three years she spent looking for this man, not even knowing his name. But with sheer luck Scarlett found him, Lucan. It was then that he offered her to come to the coven and become a blood pet. Scar, completely entranced by the man and the feeling, jumped at the chance. She was able to run away from her abusive father, and live in a mystery.

Now, she has lived in the coven for four years.

Anything Else:
Scar has a tattoo on her side.

So begins...

Scarlett Wilsten's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander
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Scarlett wasn't like the rest of them. There was no fear in her eyes, and no paranoia of death. A part of her fretted at the thought of no longer living, but another stronger part of her accepted the fact that she too would die. There wasn't much to her useless existence, so why worry about dying? Her young, reckless heart wasn't scared. She had lived there for four years, and felt completely safe. At least, safer than she had ever felt in her own home. Her life was filled with abuse and violence before, but here it seemed more like games and pleasure. Beside that, if things got really bad with Helena, Scar had a flicker of faith that either Oliver or Lucan would stand up for her.

She wasn't close with the other humans. They were submissive, and frightful. The two made her sick, with the way Dmitri was constantly trying to protect Kaleigh. How fucking romantic. Don’t act like it’s not obvious, Scarlett can see right through the two of them. Their wildest and dearest dream: to run away together and live happily ever after. Too bad there’s no such thing.

With that being said she opted to having a room upstairs, away from the sickly relationship. Scar preferred the company of vampires anyway, she felt more accepted around them anyway. They had similar interests and the same darkness. Those two humans never understood her, her need for an escape; the pleasure of being fed on, even the pain. I suppose even the vampires didn't really understand Scar either, what human in their right mind would willing stay with them? She wasn’t quite sure herself.

Thankfully, Scar wasn’t one of Helena’s favorites. In fact, most days she avoided her all together. Today was one of those days. Scarlett was good at being unnoticed, sometimes it was almost as if she weren't a pet, just as if she was living here. Most of her time was spent in the music room, one of the least visited rooms of the house. But she was always so grateful that every house they lived in had some kind of piano. In this house it was a room was a far off and shut away from the rest of the living. She liked it, she could play without anyone disturbing her. She was funny that way, keeping her most fond ability a secret, and had kept it so for years. No one had ever directly listened to her play.

While most of the house was out hunting she had sneaked down there and played for a couple of hours. After they came back, she went back to her usual cleaning act. It seemed like a fair price to pay for a home, food, and some fun. Oliver had left later than the rest, Scar took note of that.

Currently, Scarlett had just gotten out of the shower. The steam dancing around her as she combed through her light blonde hair. It was bleached that way, but she thought it fit her better than her natural muddy blonde hair. Her thoughts were lost in thinking about what it would be like to live eternally. It must be lonely. All your friends and family die away. After applying some lotion to her legs she wrapped a towel around her body, just long enough to cover her tush. She didn't care to tuck the corner in, she just clutched the connecting edges with her hand. There was only about twenty feet to her room, she would be fine.

Scarlett swung the door open to find a figure covered in blood standing only a foot away. “Christ!”, jumping at the sight of him. It took her a moment to realize who was standing in front of her. Oliver. She didn’t move away from him “I... I’m sorry.” Scarlett had wished that her reaction had been different. She could see now that he felt terrible. Her face softened,

“... Are you okay?”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Kaleigh Ann Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon
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#, as written by Mela
Helena the Bloody


As Helena waited, the sounds of their current house told her all she needed to know, even as Kaleigh called out that she was on her way. Already Dmitri was moving from his room, the sound of his guitar having ended abruptly, and soon Helena heard Kaleigh shuffling her way out of her room too. Her unseeing eyes were alight with sadistic glee at the plans she had in mind. Scarlett was in the bathroom, showering, and the scent of Oliver was getting stronger by the second. Hmm, someone was on his way home… bloody. She tapper her right cheek in thought with that realization. She knew he was going through human in this town faster than any of them, and though she adored the way he would viciously rip through his victims, the numbers were starting to catch her attention. And the fact that he hadn’t washed off before coming home? Well, that was never a good sign. She could smell his panic, and she bared her fangs in response just as Kaleigh and Dmitri made it into the livingroom. Immediately she snapped back into the moment, her smile back.

She loved all the different little responses she could scent on Kaleigh, and oh, she would have Dmitri angry and desperate soon enough. Dmitri was in the doorway as Kaleigh moved to sit on the couch, her gaze moving to Helena once in a while. She didn’t herself know how she saw so well without her sight. All she could say was that the rest of her senses had taken over in every way. Her ears and nose went a long way in telling her what went on around her, and speaking of which, Oliver burst into the house in that moment. Helena remained silent, knowing her humans would stay put and her red eyes directed themselves at Oliver, letting him know she acknowledged his homecoming, but she did so silently. The vampire wasn’t quite sure whether she was more angry or amused with Oliver, and she needed Kristof here to take care of these little things. She hummed a little tune as Oliver went upstairs, and soon Scarlett was getting out of her shower. Helena growled, the sound feminine yet threatening at the same time.

“Basement,” she told Kaleigh and Dmitri. They would know this was an order to go there, and she was no longer in the mood to be nice. The basement held all of her little… toys. They’d broken a lot of bones on Kaleigh in the past, but Helena always healed her with vampire blood afterwards… then took good care of her. Most of the time, the redhead’s moodswings were so extreme she couldn’t keep track of them herself. As soon as the word left her lips, she was between Oliver and Scarlet, her front towards the male, her movement so quick it was nothing but a blur. Her hand moved suddenly to clasp Oliver’s neck, nails digging into the skin which was impenetrable to most things, but not her. Her red eyes had a vicious, evil glint in them as she completely ignored Scarlett, her superior strength keeping Oliver in place. “What did you do, dearie?” She asked Oliver in a deceptively sweet sing-song voice, her nails digging deeper. Right now she was tempted to rip off his head, she was that pissed off.

Helena was not in the mood to clean up Oliver’s mess, which usually meant she wouldn’t, because such was the way of Helena the Bloody; she followed her own wants and urges, not those of others. “Because I think the puppy misbehaved… and you know what I do to little puppies who misbehave.” In an instant then, she suddenly let go of him, a grand smile on her face as she licked his blood off of her nails, and before he even got to properly reply, she chirped “clean up your mess, little puppy, or there will be no sweets for you.” And off she was, shoving Dmitri and Kaleigh the rest of the way into the basement, closing and locking the door behind her. She was suddenly happy, her issues with Oliver promptly forgotten. It would all come back to her in a little while, but for now her focus had shifted onto something much more fun!

She grinned at them as she reached behind her to tie her hair in a ponytail, her voice calm and instructive as she told Dmitri “go sit in that chair over there,” and gestured towards a wooden chair in the corner of the basement. On each side of the chair, iron hooks had been recently installed. She seat had a perfect view of everything in the room. Especially the metallic, long table in the middle. On it were chains of different varieties attached and above it, a mirror was situated so that her victim would be able to watch itself. Sometimes, though, that wasn’t her goal, and she would turn it around so that only the wooden side could be seen. On one wall, a huge metal grating had been put up, little spikes in every place the rows of metal met each other. Next to it hung several different whips and beneath, a drawer was situated. This contained all of Helena’s small knives, scissors, simple cuffs and the like.

By the other wall, a line of shelves had been hung and on it were what looked to be medieval torture instruments like the Pear of Anguish, the Spanish Tickler, the Thumbscrew, Crocodile Shears and so forth. Helena didn’t often use her older torture devices as they had lost their magic a while ago to her, but if she was really serious about hurting someone, in terms of revenge, they would be taken into use. She’d never used any of them on Kaleigh as she tended to… want to actually keep her alive and not die from bloodloss. At the end wall, Helena had an older torture device called the rack, placed. It was a fun one, although she usually wanted to be a little more hands on with her victims. Mostly they were all displayed to cause fear, and they did. The sight of these things usually brought on a bout of panic which was always amusing to watch. Helena’s red eyes turned to Kaleigh. “Clothes off, little bird,” she told her, that sliver of sadistic glee back in her voice. She was getting back into the mood.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander
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#, as written by Korrye
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The house was warmer than the club, the scent of humans lingering strongly in the air. Enough blood had been spilt in their stay to make it smell like their three pets, especially the mischievous male. As Oliver climbed the stairs he gripped the banister tightly, his strength cracking the wood in places. He felt too present, aware of the weight of his bloody clothes. Every time he blinked he saw the two women he had just killed, the lifeless eyes of the pretty blond staring out at him from the floor, her lips pulled into a blissful smile, her blue eyes wide but without the heat of passion. The other’s was tilted away from how she had landed, but he knew her face too, pulled back into pure terror and pain. Both of them couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. He doubted the blond was more than seventeen, likely having snuck in on a fake ID. That meant she had parents who cared for her, possibly a boyfriend in the crowd. They were both dead at his sadistic hands. He’s just dropped them there, one of them right into the bloody toilet initially.

Oliver knew Helena was not pleased either. She hadn’t made a sound when he had stalked by, meaning she would likely do something about that irritation later. Whether he or the pets would be the target he did not know, nor when. He just continued on anyways. He could never avoid her. Worse, he knew she was pleased that he was like this again, feeling the weight of his crimes. He went from the powerful unfeeling vampire to this weak being all at once. The hate was there for the first time in a long while for all that he was. It twisted his features, his lips tight and his eyebrows knitted. His shoulders were tense too. He was so wound up that he failed to realize his usual bathroom was occupied. He moved to open the door only it was locked. He stepped back and it opened, a cloud of steam rushing out with none other than Scarlett. The scent of the blond pet hit him like a brick wall.

“Christ!” Scarlett cried out. She stepped back, startled. Oliver couldn’t even focus on the state of his being, how he looked like he had showered in blood, how it dripped from his hair, his chin and his clothes, dried in other patches. He looked horrific and he was still murderous. He didn’t want her there. The scent of her blood made his fangs jut into his tongue momentarily. Immediately he cursed lowly, stepping back and away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“I... I’m sorry,” She muttered. Oliver looked at her, clenching his teeth and wishing she would just move. He said nothing, holding his breath instead. If he breathed in any more of her clean scent – all paired with her freshly shampooed hair and the perfume of her body lotion – he would take her then. And then he would really be in trouble because he would have killed yet another pet.

“... Are you okay?” she asked. Oliver rolled his eyes. Before he could respond however, Helena appeared. Like a lightning strike the elder bolted between them, taking no haste in wrapping her hand around his throat. Oliver sputtered, knowing better than to lash out at her. He let her lift him off the ground, snarling as she dug her nails into his throat.

“What did you do, dearie?” she taunted. His eyes widened at that comment. She knew just by looking at him. She knew too well that he only came home like this when he snapped, when his conscience kicked in and all he wanted to do was drown himself, to be something else. Of course, she was almost tired of seeing him like this now. He was less depressed and self inflicting now, knowing that he couldn’t go through with killing himself – and moreover that she would never let him – and hence less fun. Now he only brooded which proved to piss her off. Oliver didn’t care. It was Helena. She had made him and Oliver didn’t have it in him to please her. Fucking bitch.

“Because I think the puppy misbehaved… and you know what I do to little puppies who misbehave,” Helena threatened him. The nickname had him twist in her hands but her grip was too tight for him to speak. “Clean up your mess, little puppy, or there will be no sweets for you,” she concluded before thrusting him into the wall and darting back down the staircase. Oliver snarled again as she departed, watching her back and listening as he beckoned Dmitri and Kaleigh into the basement, knowing that they would be on the receiving end of his punishment. He had, after all, now put Helena into a nasty mood,

Oliver turned back to Scarlett, running a hand through his hair and finding it crusted with dried blood too. “I’m never okay,” he finally answered her, before he shouldered by her into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before she could reply. The stupid tantalizing human was always there to tempt him. But in the entirety of his life he had never drank from a human and not killed them.

The bathroom mirror was still covered in steam when he stepped inside which was all the better given how little he wanted to see his reflection again. Oliver peeled the ruined clothing off him and turned the shower on to a scalding hot temperature. He bathed himself, watching the water run red beneath his feet. He took a nail brush and scrubbed at his skin, watching it wash away. As a vampire, his skin was not porous so thankfully it was quicker to wash himself clean. Still the sight brought him back to his vampire hunting days. Every kill ended up being a blood bath and the motions of scrubbing his skin raw were the same. What was different was the remorse. Killing vampires had been a godly act. He had gotten high off the feeling of killing such evil beings. Now that he killed humans, it was only a rush when his conscience didn't kick in. Often now it didn't but today it hit him hard. The more he scrubbed at his fingers, the more the other faces came to him. All of his other victims were buried and disposed of...except for the two girls in the club. And God only knew what the authorities would think of that. Which meant he had to leave again. That thought made him grumble as he claimed a towel, wrapped it around his waist and proceeded to his room.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander
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Her hazel eyes trailed over Oliver’s bloodied figure. Her mouth slightly agape, unable to think of anything other than blood. Blood was a strange thing; the liquid of life, running and passing through veins, supplying oxygen to vital organs and keeping the human hydrated. It reached outward with the limbs and pulsed with the heart. It was blue inside, transformed red outside, and dried brown. How much blood did human really have? About 5.6 liters. Scarlett answered her own question. Her mind raced, analyzing what was in front of her. She blinked a couple of times, unable to say anything else. She felt embarrassed, and a bit afeared. Scar wished more than anything he hadn’t startled her. It was too late for apologies though.

In a lightning flash Helena was in front of her, punishing Oliver. As if he didn’t feel bad enough already. As the elder vampire dug her fingernails into him, Scar’s face turned sour. She wasn’t upset by the flesh breaking, but Helena’s act for control. In all honesty, Scarlett hated how she treated the other vampires. Perhaps it was just the fact that they were kind to her and Helena was not, nonetheless it bothered her. Then again, Helena was gracious enough to let Scarlett stay with them; gracious enough to let her live this long.

Unable to get past the two, Scarlett watched as Helena teased at the tortured Oliver. A certain rage boiled in her, but Scarlett knew better. So she remained silent, and reverted to keeping her eyes to the ground. They etched over the tiles as she only listened to the words Helena oozed out, as hateful as the vampire was there was a certain elegance and growl to her voice that Scar admired. It was both powerful and seductive; leisure and up tight.

With a suddenly crash against the wall, Scarlett’s head jolted up. Helena was gone, off to play with the other humans. Oliver was too upset to even stop for a moment, “I’m never okay.”. He shouldered past her, taking his turn to rinse off his shame. Filled with concern she turned around stubbornly, “Oliver!” She called back at him, the door slammed in her face at the same time.

Scarlett’s shoulders dropped, then she turned around to go to her bedroom. The room was spotless, as was most of the house. In fact, she was proud to say that she was getting very good at housekeeping. If things didn’t work out here, and she actually made it out alive, maybe she would become a maid. A bit flustered, she dressed quickly in a relaxed outfit; a over sized cream sweater that and a pair of brown leggings with a pair of orange slippers.

Sitting on her bed, she fiddled with her Ipod. It exclusively held only hundreds if not thousands of classical piano pieces. Often times when the Fallen were off hunting she would listen to a piece then directly repeat it on the piano. She had that remarkable ability, to be able to listen to a song once through and play it back perfectly. Unsure of what to do, and knowing she didn’t want anything to do with what was happening down stairs, she listened to a new piece.

Soon she was out of her room and making her way to the music room. Her footsteps were quiet, childishly wanting to be secret. A part of her actually thought if she were quiet enough they would not detect her or her piano playing. Before she slinked down the stairs, Scar walked up to Oliver’s door. Lifted her hand, then stopped short. What was she doing? He didn’t want to be bothered, let alone by her. Scarlett bit at her lip then turned back to her original destination.

It was beat up, old baby grand, but it would do. In fact, if someone had taken care of it the thing would have been quite beautiful still. Her pale hand laced around the curved edge as she made her way to the bench. Taking her seat, the song played over in her head. Only a moment longer before her mind quieted, done analyzing the song she had just heard. Her fingers touched the rough and abused ivory, floating above the keys that would resonate such sweet sounds.

With just enough pressure she began playing one of Liszt’s. She even took great care in pressing down the soft pedal, somehow hoping that the others would not hear her play.

Oh how foolish she was. Scarlett was silly to think that no one knew of this talent she tried so hard to hide. It was times like these when she forgot that she lived with beings who had heightened senses.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Eva Clarke Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Derek Fleitner Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander Character Portrait: Isaac Warren Character Portrait: Adonis Charmides
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#, as written by Korrye
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Eva couldn’t focus on anything else but the tall and brooding vampire before her. Derek’s presence stole all of her attention. She watched him and wrestled with her own hands in her lap as he momentarily looked out the window. She heard a scuffle and then Isaac shouting. The brunette watched Derek with parted lips and mild concern. Was something serious happening outside? Then his lips pulled into a wry smirk and she exhaled a sigh, knowing that if it was really bad – whatever was happening that is – he would have left her there and gone to help. He turned back to her and she went rigid the moment his eyes landed on her. She curled her toes involuntarily, wrenched by the power of his gaze.

“Mostly…” he told her, replying to her earlier question as to how he was, “I’m hungry.” His voice was jagged and sharp, the slight rasp causing another wave of goose flesh to tear up her arms. She shivered and as she shook he suddenly moved towards her and almost like her daydream, he pulled her to stand. Only with the force and momentum of his inhuman speed, Derek pinned her to the wall. Eva was immediately breathless, her body heaving with air as her senses were suddenly driven wild by his touch. He held her hands at her waist, but not too tightly. Never too tightly. He was gentle and yet forceful. Just like that damned book. It made her moan lowly.

“I know,” she breathed lowly, looking into his eyes in flashes. She looked up at him and then down at the floor several times, somewhat baffled by how fast he moved. Still, the proximity was driving her mad. She wanted him to be this close. But most of all, she wanted him to be doing other things. He leaned in then, and Eva tilted her head away from him, leaning her forehead into his shoulder, feeling his lips graze her throat. Her fingers tensed into fists. She was pinned and could do nothing but feel what he wanted her to feel.

“And you smell amazing,” Derek added. The low tone of his voice so close to her body sent vibrations through her torso. Eva straightened all at once, sighing with a groan, knowing she shouldn’t be enjoying this so much but she did. She loved this. She would die to have this happen every hour of every day with this man…this vampire. He made her feel like she was on fire, his cold touch like flames to her skin, igniting something so passionate and heated in her core. It had to be real. This feeling, this was what all the books talked about didn’t they? When you just knew you couldn’t live without something or someone.

His hands released her wrists, pushing her closer to the wall. His body leaned into hers and her legs were locked between his. While her hands were free, she could do nothing but reach out to brace herself by holding onto his sides. He held her head steady and she leaned her chin towards the support he offered with his palm. She closed her eyes then, softly, her hands squeezing him. She hummed lowly, a sign she had developed in the time he had been feeding on her – as if to say I’m ready. Derek ran his fangs along her throat and she felt her skin react as if tickled.

Then it came – hesitation. Eva felt him stop moving and she flickered her eyes open, batting her lashes as if dazed. She was high from having Derek so close, from having his hands on her. She wanted him to bite into her, to feed. She wanted that release. But he was delaying it and he sighed then and she began to wonder. That momentary lapse in thinking led to surprise.

“I apologize for this,” he whispered. “Wha--?” Eva began to mumble. Then it came. The bite was vicious, like nothing before. She couldn’t suppress the natural squeal of surprise that came from her throat. Eva’s eyes widened and she groaned, feeling the discomfort of his fangs before the natural numbing proceeded. Isaac had explained once that vampires dosed humans with toxins before drinking, making the moment pleasurable or horrific. Normally, Derek would spread that orgasmic good feeling throughout the whole of her body but something was off in this instance. He pulled back quicker than any time before and suddenly was drinking. And quickly. The normal numbness, the high, the sensual orgasmic feelings that had accompanied the nine previous times were almost absent. She felt him pull the blood from her veins and it was uncomfortable. Eva clenched her teeth, tightening her grip on his hips. He kept going, so quickly she was rapidly light headed. “Derek…” she whispered, urgently. The numbness came in her feet quickly and within seconds she knew that if he pulled back she would collapse.

She knew she had had enough suddenly. Eva had never hit the point before but her body began to resist him even though her heart and mind were more than willing to let him keep going. Her hands released his sides, her left slapping the wall. Eva tried to move her feet again, fidgeting. Any heat, any excitement she had felt before was gone. She felt raw and sore all at once, numb in places but above all just plain loopy. When she opened her eyes again, Eva saw stars. The bedside lamp on her nightstand suddenly seemed ten times brighter. His voice was louder in her ears. She felt like she was falling when she suddenly reached out to grip his shoulders, to hold on while her heart felt like it was racing for dear life in her ears. She had never felt like this before. "I feel sick," she struggled to tell him. Her hands were shaking by the time he pulled back. Eva felt jarred when she heard someone move loudly past her bedroom door. The steps loudly continued up to the attic staircase beyond her room. She knew at once it was Adonis and sudden crashing noises had her concerned. Yet just as suddenly as it happened, she forgot about it, her focus on Derek and what he was doing, listening for...anything.





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Scarlett lingered on Oliver’s mind as he moved back to the room he had claimed as his own. The blonde’s fresh scent remained heavy in the halls, taunting the monster within him. Oliver subdued his desire to drain the pet with another wave of images of his most recent victims. So many blondes came to mind. All young women. All eerily like Scarlett. His subconscious was speaking for itself. He was angry as he dropped is towel and dressed himself in clean clothing. Why did he want this girl so bad? Why didn’t he just go through with it, as he always had? What was so special about her that he almost wanted to keep her alive. Well obviously he did. Was he actually able to control himself around her and prevent himself from drinking? He had never, ultimately, been able to keep himself away from a human he had wanted. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had never made it more than six weeks without finally killing that person. Scarlett had been with the Fallen coven for months – no…years!

Oliver paused as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyebrows furrowing with the thought. How had he failed to recognize this? This was good wasn’t it? But how long had it been since he had been able to think this rationally? Years? Had he lapsed that long just to please Helena? Was he really enjoying the power of being a vampire for such extended periods of time now? It shook him up and he felt his lips twitching as he moved to take in his personal space. One wall was exposed brick. His double bed backed onto it, the frame simple. The bedding was still astray from when he had tried to lay still the day before. His unrest had led him to hunting, and to killing again. He hadn’t been able to occupy his mind lately. Today he was about to pull an old leather bound diary from a small dresser when the old groaning sound of the house’s beat up piano filled his ears. Oliver tilted his head, feeling the frustration ebb slightly. The song was light and smooth. His mother had used to play the piano, when he was human and had hated them all. But the sound felt like home and suddenly he was closing the drawer and moving away from his bedroom to the hall, following the noise like a butterfly to flame. He found himself in the doorway to the large upstairs loft area, his eyes raking in Scarlett’s back. He should have known.

For awhile he stood in listened as the song gained intensity. He watched as her fingers danced over the keys, how her head swayed with the song and how her body seemed to curl over the keyboard, moving from one stretch to another, lost in the song. The smell of her was tantalizing and he could feel his fangs extend, releasing pleasure toxins into his mouth. The venom gathered on his tongue bitterly and he swallowed, recognizing that he needed to leave, to clean up his mess as Helena called it. He sighed, walking away from the blonde without a word. He moved quickly, knowing that if he hesitated he wouldn’t leave. He forced himself down the stairs and out the door. He was there long enough to hear Kaleigh begging between sobs. It was enough to send him running back to the bar, stopping only to collect a few important things.

He hadn’t truly been away that long. An hour and a half tops. Surprisingly the bouncer he had persuaded to bar the bathrooms was still at his post. No police cars, ambulances or other human organizations were present. No one had been discovered yet it seemed. He leapt up the fire escape, unemotional as he returned to the bathroom window he had broken through. He looked inside, the bodies where he had left them, water still streaming out of the broken sink. It was almost knee deep and the dead women floated earlier, their blood swirling ominously. He crawled through, wading through his mess to claim their bodies. The water was doing enough to remove evidence of his presence, and of them. Still, he wasn’t stupid enough to leave traces of their blood. He hauled the two corpses over his shoulder, kicking in the broken faucet to bend it closed. He hauled them out onto the escape before he withdrew a bottle of gasoline from his coat, stolen from a campfire stove in the neighbors shed. He tore the cap off the canister, splashing it up the walls and bathroom stalls before crawling back through again, standing close enough to light a match, hissing at the flame before chucking it through. The water mixed with the gas to burn brilliantly. The heat flashed through the window, one blast enough to sear the back of his neck. It healed quickly as he hoisted the bodies onto his shoulder, his face grim as he jumped onto the rooftop and moved to a conservation area behind a local park. It was closed at night and he was able to do what he needed to do, disposing of the two women as Helena had requested. He moved fast, not wanting to spend more time than he needed looking at their faces, still it was time consuming. In a good way, however, he was focused on the task at hand and not the situation at home. Or Scarlett.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Kaleigh Ann Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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The brunette, the redhead, or the blonde? It was hard to pick because they all looked so beautiful and smelled so delicious. He could be a glutton and take them all home. His friends would love that he brought home snacks. He would save the very best for Helena. But which would she prefer more? The one that scares easy? The brave one that would fight back? Or the one that tasted the best? Maybe she'd play a game. Have him let them take off into the woods so they could all play cat and mouse. Helena loved to play cat and mouse.

He finally decided that he might try to woo them all. And why not? It would be far too easy considering how American women would swoon at small things. Such as the slightest hint of a foreign accent. British, Irish, Scottish, and heavy Hispanic seemed to be the newest trends. He had witnessed swarms of women simply fall over themselves trying to be the one on the arm of The Foreign Man. It was absolutely pathetic and rather shallow. But then again, he was rather used to shallow considering the company he had been keeping for the past couple of centuries or so.

He watched as they sat in their little group, whispering among each other, placing bets on who could get them back home and into their bed first. How sad that whores grouped together as such and turned such an act of intimacy into sport and game. Show some pride! he thought to himself. Kristof wasn't runner-up for the Nicest Guy in the World Award but he did have some standards. He never did have a taste for harlots – Not even in his before-death life. He was always a one-woman man. Well. Now he was Helena's. Though she didn't know just how much.

Running fingers through his hair, he flashed a grin to the women. He wanted to vomit in his mouth at the obscene gestures being made by the redhead. What had happened to the human race? Resisting shaking his head, he moved away from the bar and headed for the women. Their whispers died to a hush as he drew closer. They instead resorted to fawning over his appearance. He was wearing a white tank top and a pair of Sean Jean denims with black DC shoes. He was feeling pretty bored and lazy when he woke up, but the pride that rippled through his body accompanied by the dark stubble that he allowed upon his face.

He finally came to a stop and perched upon their table. He didn't touch any of them and he wasn't going to. If it had not already been made obvious, Kristof wasn't a fan of humans. They were weak, vain, and trashy. They were food and absolutely nothing else. Sometimes they were toys. But that's exactly it. They were objects not worth the affection or praises of the beings higher than them. He laughed at the humans that thought themselves worthy to share a bed with creatures of the night and wanted to vomit when said creatures actually did share a bed with them.

“So, big boy. What'cha sippin' on?” The brunette was an African American woman who's hair framed her face in thick curls and didn't extend past her shoulders. Kristof gave a shrug and a smile. “You tell me. You girls have been staring at me rather hard for quite some time.” His accent was heavily Italian, forcing the girls to choke down squeals, though he was drowning in the scent of their...moisture. He growled under his breath, though it was audible enough for them to hear. Instead of being frightened or even a bit weirded out, they simply moved closer, batting fake thick lashes in an attempt to get ahead in their 'race'.

“Well. A friend of mine makes a killer 4 Horsemen. Jack, Johnnie, Jose, and Jim mixed together. You ever had one?” He started out slow with idle conversation. The redhead was closest to him and had rested her hand on his knee. “Oh wow. That sounds really strong. I've never had one.” She smiled. Jersey accent. She had an irritating tan that looked almost orange, her lipstick was too red, and her hair was so big he had no doubt that it could house at least three families of birds and rent out a single room for a bachelor. But he winked at her despite it all. “It is. If you guys are down for a party...” He didn't have to finish because they were already grabbing their clutches and waiting for him to lead the way.

While a challenge thrilled him, being lazy and taking the easy snacks provided him with more idle time to spend trying to please Helena. Thinking of how submissive the woman made him without even trying made him sick. But he couldn't help it and he really wasn't sure whether or not he minded. He drove his old Chevy pickup truck quickly, contemplating the thought. There wasn't enough room for all of the girls in the front of his truck, so they had fought over who would sit in his lap. In the end, the blonde beat the others in a game of rock, paper, scissors.

“Pathetic.” He had muttered to himself.

“What was that?” The blonde glanced at him with a light smile. She was a Washington native. That much he had picked up from her nonstop yammering on and on about her life story. Abusive parents, always dated losers, hoped to settle down and marry soon. All before she turned twenty-four. He didn't see what the rush was these days when it came to settling down. What happened to taking it slow? Maybe taking it slow was an easier feat for him because he had forever.

“We're here.” He smiled, nodding to the house that they were coming up on. No matter where they went, they always lived away from town and near the forest. It was easier for them to carry out their daily activities this way, plus nobody could hear their helpless victims screaming for at least five miles. Which was always great for their little...games. Plus it kept them out of the eyes of nosy neighbors. They liked to bring their snacks home sometimes so they could share and it was never a good thing when neighbors decided to point out that they last saw the victim with them. Investigations had gotten a lot more thorough over time. He remembered when you could kill someone and if the killer wasn't found within three days, the law said fuck it.

He and the girls scrambled out of the car and up to the house where he let them in and locked the door behind him. “I thought you said there was going to be a party. Are we early or something?” The brunette turned around and popped up her left hip, doing that weird head bob that seemed to be popular. Back in the nineties.

“Oh no. We're just in time. In fact – You're all the guests of honor.” He smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Honey, I'm home.” He didn't bother to call out, knowing Helena would have already smelt and heard him coming at least five minutes ago. He had been gone for two days, letting out some vampire that she had a quarrel with and locked up some time ago in a cave. She had starved him for a while. She didn't give him the specifics because he didn't need them. All he knew was that after they finished hunting down and tearing these girls apart, he was going to play his own hunting game with Helena. He smirked to himself, shivering at the thought of hearing her scream for him again. Feeling her raking her nails down his back and tearing into his flesh.

Another shiver ran down his spine as he inhaled deeply, Helena's scent intoxicating him in a way that no human's blood ever could. His body stirred some as he opened up his eyes. The girls were trying to escape. Oh – So they were playing inside the house? Were they hoping that it'd play out like in the horror movies? They'd sneak around the house and hide in closets with a knife and then barely escape with their lives after some weird accident kills the killer? Oh, Helena was going to love this. Helena loved when they fought back. Whatever got her more riled up, the better. He watched as they ran towards the kitchen. He just stood there. He listened. They fumbled around looking for knives. One of them cut herself – Ooh! O positive. Helena's favorite. His fangs slid out as a menacing grin etched itself across his lips.






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There she was, sitting across the bar in the heavily crowded club. A woman of great beauty; she had hair as dark as a raven's wings that cascaded down her body in thick curls and framed the delicate features of her face. Her skin was ivory like the porcelain mini-statues he kept on a shelf in his room. And her body! Good lord, her body! She had curves in all the right places. She looked over at him with bright green eyes and offered a shy smile. The Irishman grinned back and adjusted the lapels on his new Gucci suit before moving away the area of the bar that he had taken occupancy of only a few hours ago.

“Can 'ah buy you a drink, miss?” Lucan flashed her a winning smile and smirked inwardly as she openly swooned at his accent. American women...American humans were so easy to captivate. So long as you possessed a foreign accent, they would rob a bank at the snap of one's fingers. It was highly amusing to the vampire. "I'll take a Jack and Coke. As long as you're buying." She tried her best to purr out a faux hispanic accent but she failed miserably. He didn't show his absolute disgust and instead contorted his face as though she had just spoken the most fascinating thing he had ever heard in his life.

The woman was so easy to manipulate that it almost made him sad. Where was the challenge? But his boredom did not once show on his face as he continued to woo her at the bar before escorting her to the dance floor where he went a few rounds with her. Women these days had absolutely no sense of class. They thought they'd find husband material by wearing tight-fitting clothes that were a size and a half too small and then grinding their junk on them. And they wondered why so many of them were raped outside of bars. That was like teasing a lion and then wondering why the lion tore off your arm.

The woman came alone to the crowded club, having just got out of a fight with her roommates. She was just looking to have some fun and find someone special. She had a good feeling about tonight.

Why wouldn't she be able to find Mister Right in a club? Her sister got married that way. But her sister was also abused daily. But that could never happen to her, oh no! And Lucan was such a gentleman and so sexy. Nothing could go wrong with him, she thought as she danced with him, feeling safe wrapped in his arms as he whispered romantic sweet nothings into her ear.

By seven-thirty, he was on his way to a hotel room with her. She offered to take him back to her place, but that meant neighbors. And roommates. People who would see his face. When she turned up missing, they would all look at him. He hated investigations. People of this century were so thorough. No. Instead, he offered her a motel room where she wouldn't need to worry about her roommates knocking on the door, asking them to be quiet. For he assured her that he would have her screaming. That it would hurt so good that she'd be begging him to stop. They had both grinned about it, though he had smiled for much darker reasons.

“It isn't the nicest place that I've been taken to. But you're well worth it. You're so charming. So sexy.” She giggled in an annoying way. pulling him by the tie into the motel room when they had arrived. He hated that. When a woman was attractive but then opened up her mouth and everything about her was annoying and fake. He also hated when people tugged on his clothes. He paid far too much for his clothes for the threads to be ruined by easy whores tugging on them in an attempt to be sexy. Lucan simply grinned and shut the door behind him.

The woman, who's name he had learned was Shaunee. was attempting a sexy dance while removing her clothes. He sat on the edge of the small, single bed and watched. “Dance slow. Like I'm the last man you'll ever please.” She paused with wide eyes, interpreting it as “If tonight is completely perfect, then I'm your new husband.” Though his meaning was far darker than she could imagine. He found the way she wound her body, dipping low and grinding her derriere on the floor rather...disgusting. He couldn't be any less aroused if he was watching a fat midget make love to a donkey. In fact, he thought that he may have found that more arousing.

Maybe that was being a little over dramatic, but the point was made.

The woman was atrocious. As she began to strip, he finally found something about her worth getting aroused for. Her body was perfection. And his great eye-sight enabled him to see that it was all natural. He loved natural bodies far more than those fake ones women got nowadays. Going to doctors to have fat sucked out of them and then put back in for curves. Having silicone shoved into their breasts. Ugh - Laziness is what it was. He loved a woman that kept up with herself through natural means. Dieting, exercise, and those such things. It seemed that this woman kept a rather rigorous work out. “I'm a personal trainer.” She smirked, as though reading his mind. She had stripped down to thong and heels, just about to take off her heels. “No. Leave the heels.” He murmured, unbuttoning his jacket and shirt, sliding them off of his body. She grinned and continued to dance, letting him undress. It didn't take him long to get nude.

Lucan wasn't a very buff man. He didn't have bulging biceps or a six-pack. Hell, he didn't even have a four-pack. He looked as though he hadn't seen a decent meal in three months, really. He was a sickly man before he was turned and his body was frozen to be forever so and she was not pleased. “Uh, no hunny. I don't think so.” Her face contorted some and she dropped her arms, standing up straight. “Look, honey. You packin' and everything.” She gestured to his hardened member. “But you really ain't gettin' with me lookin' like that.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent over to gather up her clothes, intending to leave.

Lucan sighed and came up behind her. using his strength to hold her gently, brushing his lips against her neck as he whispered, manipulating her. “Give me a chance to provide you with a nigh' you'll nae forget soon. My body is this way from cancer. I want to enjoy my last days with a beautiful woman.” The woman melted into his accent again and with such great length pressing against her, she couldn't resist. “You're pretty strong for such a scrawny man.” She mumbled as he turned her around. He smirked and soon had her in his arms mounted on the wall.

He always made sure that his meal enjoyed their last few minutes of life. He loved the scent a woman exuded when in heat and the way her heart would race with each passing moment. Nothing could beat that rush. But what was even better was experiencing it all and drink from them at the same time. Draining them of their sweet life force. Plus, he preferred screams of ecstasy over screams of pain.

His fangs slid out in that way that they did, slowly sinking into her, leaving various marks along her arms, chest, and neck before settling just over her heart. She was crying out in ecstasy as he released a Toxin into her that would send into a frenzy of pleasure as he drained her to death. “You're seriously into some kinky shit!” She gasped out, clawing at his back in response.

He himself had to muffle a groan as her sweet life blood began to flow into his mouth. It was warm and oh-so-sweet! She soon began to realize that she was growing weak and it wasn't from being tired. It wasn't from the sex. She realized what was happening and tried to struggle but the pleasure was too much. She begged for more. She begged him to stop. And then she begged for more again. She didn't know what to do.

But Lucan did. He kept feeding. On and on and on he went. He didn't stop until her body no longer moved and her heart no longer beat. He sighed, pleased with his meal. Then he frowned. There was a funky aftertaste that he was none too pleased with: Steroids. He threw her body away from his and proceeded to clean up. He showered and got dressed in no time. There wasn't even a single spot of blood on the floor. He had lapped it all up. He sighed and hoisted her body over his shoulder.

The ride back to the house was long and irritating. He had stopped to dispose of the body by feeding it to the wolves deep in the forest. Since they had been in Washington, he had been feeding them the bodies of all of his victims. He had even come to consider them to be pets. They'd come around the house sometimes. He had a couple of pups in his room, even. But he always kept the head, the shoes, the clothes, and the accessories. One thing that was easily noticed about his victims was that they wore designer clothes, new jewelry, and were all the same size as Roxanne.

He pulled up to the house, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Helena was home...Oliver. Scarlet. Dmitri. Kaleigh. Kristof was finally home. But no Roxanne. He began to frown until three other scents wafted under his nose. Three women. No doubt Kristof had brought Helena some snacks. Or maybe they were all going to play cat and mouse. Shrugging, he got out of his cherry red 2012 Chevy Impala and ran straight to the house.

He knew the front door would be locked, so he instead scaled a nearby tree that extended up to his bedroom window. Inside his bedroom was pretty classy. Everything was designer from the sheets on his bed to the clothes hanging on racks. His room was actually pretty huge – Second only to Helena's. Only to accommodate all of his shoes and outfits and paintings and other little collectables.

He was greeted by cute little barks and two wolf pups jumping on his legs. “Heya loves. Don't worry, dinner's comin'.” He smiled and crouched down, scratching behind their ears as the wagged their tails happily to the familiar Irish accent.




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Dmitri refused to so much as look at Helena simply because he did not care to grace her with his gaze. He didn't look at Kaleigh out of respect. When Helena touched him, he wanted to haul off and slap her. But he simply tensed his body. Her cheek pressed against his was almost too much to bear, but he stood...or sat his ground. He had been put through a lot of things by every vampire in the house. From having his limbs slowly broken to slowly bleeding out from several cuts. He had even been forced to play in their cat and mouse games. He didn't mind much after he thought about it – With him as their punching bag, Kaleigh and Scarlet were generally safe.

He didn't really like Scarlet. He thought that she was a deranged idiot. But chivalry was one of his better qualities. Even if it was incognito. He mostly put up with the abuse for Kaleigh, though. There were times before when he would see Helena in a bad mood and headed for Kaleigh that he would distract her by acting out. Maybe that's what this was all about. Maybe she knew. Great – That's all he needed; her to find a weakness. But he was still hopeful that Kaleigh would be able to convince Helena to keep him for her. Did she care for him enough to try that?

He was torn from his thoughts by Helena's voice. Her threat made him literally turn stark white. He was having trouble believing what he was hearing, thinking that maybe he had heard wrong. But here he was being forced and bound by chains to look upon Kaleigh. He wanted to struggle, but he couldn't. He could never do anything knowing that it would hurt Kaleigh. He did all that he could to protect her. And Helena knew it now. He watched unwillingly as Helena moved to Kaleigh and stripped her down fully. He wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he couldn't.

His eyes locked onto Kaleigh's, pleading for her forgiveness. He never meant for this to happen and he could only blame himself. He should have kept his head down. But he couldn't! He couldn't help but to fall for the beautiful redhead. She was just so sweet and kind. It broke him down to see her in any sort of pain. Right now he only wished he could break from the chains that bound him and sweep her up into his arms. He wanted to brush away the tears and tell her that it was all going to be okay. That they'd escape one day. But he couldn't. He could only watch and feel so helpless that it was almost pathetic.





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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Her fingers gracefully and speedily traced over the keyboard, pressing the black and white keys in perfect rhythm. Repeating just what she had heard; imagining the music printed out in her mind. She was completely immersed in the song within moments, spurts of emotion and color crafting the song into her own. For a couple of minutes she felt completely safe, unnoticed, and herself. Playing the piano had this effect on her; Scarlett’s mind was completely numb in concentration. It wandered in some kind of blank paradise while producing and mimicking remarkable pieces of music. Her body flowed with the music, bobbing with each downbeat. The romantic piece grasped her, and she was gone.

The rising intensity in the song made her tense, and a feeling of company interrupted her. She ignored the sensation at first, thinking that this was only in her mind. No one really paid much attention to her in the house, and it was unlikely that someone would stop completely to listen to her classical playing.

Unable to stand the feeling any longer she stopped. Scarlett turned around to see only a glimpse of movement in the doorway, leaving it completely hollow. She stood up and followed her curiosity to the hallway. No one. Not even a footstep. It was just nerves. Scar had to convince herself of that. She rolled her eyes in spite of herself, and a chuckle escaped her pink lips before sitting back down at the piano. The rest of the song came easily, settling down into whimsical array of scales.

Then she finished, and in one of her rare moments Scarlett was proud of what she had just done. Silence engulfed her as her fingers brushed over the keys, feeling the smooth and well loved ivory. A clatter of noise from downstairs brought her to her feet; curiosity drug her to the scene in the kitchen. One step into the battle zone and already there was a knife thrown at her. Just in the knick of time she was able to dodge the thing aimed right toward her head.

“What are you-?!”

When she realized it was none of of those she lived with Scar froze. Aw, yes. Guests. Scarlett knew the drill. Without another word she left the three women. Kristof was in the main room, she hadn’t even noticed him until she was leaving. Taking no time to apologize or even greet him, she scurried on.

Scarlett didn’t want to see what was going to happen next, she could envision it just fine. And she most definitely didn’t want to be apart of it. Hibernating in her room was the plan. Maybe she would even go to sleep. Who knew, it was dark out and there was no better way to ignore the world than by sleeping.

Upstairs was much more tame. Only a couple of thuds and bumps from Lucan’s room. He was home. Finally. She felt so weirdly secluded without either him or Oliver around. Mostly because the other vampires hadn’t really taken a liking to her. Might as well pop in before settling; she cracked his door open just enough for her to slide in.

“Welcome back, lover boy.” Scarlett grinned her award winning smile towards him, hoping that he was a better mood than Oliver had been.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Kaleigh Ann Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Annabelle Jefferson Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon Character Portrait: Adonis Charmides Character Portrait: Alessa Dattolo Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Lucan had arrived and took his window into the home. He smelled like he had just finished a meal. But he could be a bit of a glutton sometimes. No doubt he'd share his meal with the mouthy Frenchie when she came around. But neither of those two were of Kristof's concern. He glanced over as Scarlet came downstairs only to have a knife hurled at her. A smirk crossed his face as she dodged it. Though he thought it would have been funner if she would have gotten hit. But then poor Oliver would have been upset. Again – He didn't care.

He didn't have to wait long for the reaction he wanted, for he soon found Helena's arms wrapped around him and his body pinned against the wall. His smirk turned into a smile as his own powerful arms wrapped around her slender body and he buried his face in her hair. He inhaled just as she did, taking in her scent. Helena's scent was far more intoxicating than any blood ever could be. While blood aroused his hunger, her scent aroused...him. He let his fingers press into her sides as he held her close, brushing his fangs against her neck.

“I assume that this means you missed me.” His trademark smirk returned as he pressed his forehead against hers. He hated to have been away from her, even if it was only for two days. It was two days too long. He moved his left hand over her body, slowly tracing up each curve, cherishing each one before he cupped her face. “I thought that you'd like to go out for dinner. But then I thought better and decided to bring home some takeout.” He dipped his head down to the much shorter woman's, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss. He loved that privilege. Of touching her. Whenever he wanted. Wherever he wanted. That was something that was allowed for him and only him. Helena was his. And...well he was hers. Even though he'd never tell her so.

He nicked her bottom lip with a single fang, gently sucking the blood that rose up from the tender pink flesh. He was both enjoying his little welcome home committee while also giving the girls a little head start on arming themselves and hiding. He was hoping that they'd get outside – It was a lot more fun chasing them through the woods. But they were so slow that the games didn't last very long. That's why he preferred his games to be with Helena. The rewards were so much sweeter. Both metaphorically and literally. He lifted his head some as he heard the backdoor open. They were escaping, making him smile. “You know. We could get a round in while they start running...” He grabbed her by the thighs and hoisted her up around his waist. The wall damn near cracked with the force he put into it when he spun around and slammed her against it.

“But. I so love to make you wait.” He snickered, putting his forehead against hers again. His nose went to the air for a moment as he finally registered the scent of blood. And a lot of it. It wasn't from any of the girls he had brought home... “Oliver's been an idiot again, hasn't he?” He growled, tightening his grip on Helena. He had respect for Oliver's ability to fight, but he didn't like the way the man went apeshit while feeding. He left a trail. And Kristof doesn't like trails. Especially those leading back to himself or Helena.






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“Kaleigh...” He forced the tears threatening to fall to stay back – He couldn't let Kaleigh see him cry. He watched in utter horror as Helena restrained Kaleigh and began to carve into her skin. He struggled against the chains, wanting nothing more than to beat the living shit out of Helena. Even if it killed him. “Stop...Stop it!” His voice was hoarse as he leaned forward, the chains pressing into him. Helena seemed off in her own little world now, enjoying her la-la land. But it was over soon as she dashed off upstairs.

Dmitri slumped as much as his body would allow, grinding his teeth together. He sat in silence for a few minutes before slowly parting dry lips. “I...I'm sorry, Kal...” His voice was cracked and the pitch hinted that he might actually be crying. He was. Small rivulets trickled down his face, dripping from his chin. “This is my fault. I never meant for this to happen to you...God. Please forgive me.” He had diverted his eyes elsewhere, but he found them drifting back to her. He refused to look at her body, keeping them locked onto her face.

“If she kills me. Promise me that you won't do anything stupid.” His voice had grown serious, though still a bit cracked. “Just promise me that....Okay...love?” He kept his composure as best as he could. He was mentally bracing himself for Helena to come back with Kristof. He knew that the Sicilian was back. That was pretty much the only thing that could get Helena to stop her games. Even if only for a little while.






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Adonis was busy brooding upstairs. He had the guitar that Alessa had bought him when he first arrived, playing absolute nonsense. He wasn't even sure if it was a melody. His fingers weren't dancing across the strings, they were just...strumming. He didn't want to talk to anyone and he didn't want to see anyone. He had turned off all the lights in his room and shut the curtain over the small, circular window. He wanted to be alone in the dark to brood. Immature as it may be, that's what he wanted.

“Eu sou tão idiota de merda. Claro Alessa não queria me beijar. Ela é uma vampira. Eu sou um ser humano. Ela não vai querer alguém que acabou de morrer em mais 80 anos. Ela não quer alguém que vai olhar como um homem velho em mais dez ou vinte anos. Não significa que não pode ainda tentar.” He was muttering to himself in Portuguese, glaring in the dark at the floor. He loved Alessa. Not the idea of her. Not that she was a vampire. Not that she was gorgeous. He loved her. He hated that he couldn't know as much about her as he wanted to, but he still loved her.

As much as he thought it to be a secret, he wasn't exactly familiar with the vampires' ability to pretty much smell emotion and hear every change in the human body. He didn't know that every time Alessa so much as smiled in his direction his heart would literally skip three beats. He didn't know that when she accidentally brushed against him, he held his breath and reeked of want and need. He didn't know that every night they could hear his whispered prayers that Alessa would one day love him.

No. He didn't know.

He was drawn from his brooding by the knocking and voice of Annabelle. He frowned. Not because he didn't like Annabelle, but because he wanted to be alone. But what would a little company hurt? It wasn't like he could say no. She'd probably kick down the door if he did. Sighing, he set down his guitar on his bed as carefully as possible and eased over to the door. He pulled it open just enough for him to peek out with one eye. “O que você quer?”






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Lucan had already removed his shirt and was searching through his closet, aided only by the dim light of the moon shining through the branches and a candle lit on his nightstand. He settled for a plain t-shirt, knowing that he might just go ahead and play the game with the others. He didn't want to bloody up any of his outfits. He had just pulled it over his head when Scarlet had slipped in. She was promptly greeted by Pierre and Adelaide, as Roxanne named the two wolf pups, growling and snapping at her feet; Lucan found it funny that they didn't like females besides Roxanne.

“If we keep you alive long enough for you to see them hit their teenage years, I won't stop them from tearing you apart when you let yourself into my private quarters.” He moved towards the door, blocking her from entering any further. “Pierre, Adelaide. Va te coucher et attendre pour la nourriture.” Roxanne had taught him French years ago and that was the language he spoke when speaking to both her and his pups. He watched as they whined with tails between their hind legs, scampering off to their little plush bed.

Lucan then turned his ruby gaze to Scarlet. It wasn't that he didn't like her – She was alright enough for a human. But she was strange. And he thought she was stupid. But Lucan really didn't think highly of any humans. Scarlet might be his second favorite of the humans that were in the house with them. Dmitri had been around much longer and Lucan admired the man's strength and endurance. He wasn't half-bad for a human. But Scarlet was still Scarlet – She was a tasty treat and he didn't mind the conversation either.

He regarded her with a lifted brow before moving some so that she could come in further. “Need something, I presume.” He canted his head, speaking with his usual Irish lull.

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Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Forgetting about the wolves, Scarlett stepped back when they began snapping and growling at her feet. Her grip tightened on the door handle, as if to brace herself for some kind of freak accident. They were very particular things, really only liking Roxanne and Lucan. That was fine though, Scarlett wasn’t too fond of them herself. They were big, even just for pups, and there was a wildness to them that even Scar didn’t like. Scarlett’s eyes darted over to Lucan as he smoothly made a snarky remark about her coming in.

Huh. She hadn’t expected that, usually he was quite warm toward her. A small pout painted her face as he called the pups to bed, his foul mood reminded her of Oliver, her mind then wandered to him. Only a moment of distraction before her attention was drawn back to Lucan; he was ordering the wolves back to bed.

He spoke nice French, although she thought it to be a little funny because of his strong Irish accent. Scarlett herself wasn’t entirely fluent in French but understood it, along with most languages. Another instinctual ability that came with her intelligence, although she never dared to speak to others in any foreign language, she could understand them. She just studied patterns, roots and grammar while someone was speaking and soon she was able to comprehend the words and sentences being formed. Before living with the Fallen she ignored the fact that she could pick up languages so quickly and failed to formally learn any other language beside English.

“As far as I’m concerned, they can have dinner now.” Scarlett muttered, referring to the blade that nearly got her just moments before. People were silly, and adrenaline made them stupid. Bringing home humans to feed on and kill was one of the things that Scar disliked. It was just a lot of screaming and hopeless fighting. Yes, they were going to die. But what was the fuss? Scarlett was 90% sure that none of women were contributing to society. Anyway, every human dies sometime or later.

Her hand slipped from the handle of the door once Lucan moved aside, almost inviting her inside. A slight movement forward brought her into the room. Wide eyes looked at him before speaking again, “Oh, no. I don’t need anything,” she continued her way inside, growing close to his bed, she honestly had no excuse as to why she was there. Really she was just trying to sociable and friendly. He could take that however he wanted, Scar could care less.

“just saying hello, really.” she pointed out, finally taking a seat on his bed. It wasn’t as if his bedroom was unfamiliar to her, she had been with him on multiple occasions and if there was any other place that she would be rather than her room and by a piano it was his room. Scarlett wasn’t one for snooping around or invading space, so she supposed that Lucan would want her out of his room as soon as possible. Scar sighed, flipping her hair back, it was still damp.

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Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander
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#, as written by Korrye
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The conservation area was what many humans would consider silent. To Oliver however, it was a lively playground of life. With his conscience ever present, he paid mind to every sound. He barely thought as he carried the bodies of his two victims deep into the woodland. His steps were quick and light. He was melodic and smooth, his gait near perfect. He was for all intents and purposes, silent. The pressure of his weight didn’t so much as break a twig. He stared forward, one body slung over each shoulder. His hands grasped their dead bodies tightly, the girl’s hair swaying behind him with each step. The further he moved, the more wildlife seemed to sing to him. The orchestra of crickets was deafening and yet homely. It brought him back to his youth in Spain, to the coast and their summer trips to the ocean. It made him remember his youngest sister Katarina. He could close his eyes and see it so clearly. He had been fifteen, confused by their parents decision to convert to Christianity. They were to be baptized the next day at the church, the monolithic building intimidating to them both. His sister was no older than eight but she was incredibly intelligent. Of all his family members, Oliver was closest to her. She was the least drawn into the religious debate but she was far more obedient than him.

They had been laying in the tall grass by the beach, the sound of the waves behind them, no more than half a kilometer away. “What’s the noise?” she asked suddenly. The crickets were so loud then too, just the same. They had been laying there long enough that the creatures appeared to have forgotten they were there. Katarina had never been out late enough to hear them, and even if she had she had never paid them any mind until today. Oliver had always seemed to hear them, feeling grounded by the sound and wishing so many days that he could just understand the nature of human beings. He felt above this age of history, so confused by the importance that people put in God. What about leaders? What about those who could stop these armies of people from coming in and sacking their great cities? Could anyone? He knew they could. Great cities in the east aimed to protect their people. What of Spain and his homeland who seemed so content to let their cities be run over and slaughtered?

“They’re crickets ducle,” he had told her. My pretty sister. So sweet. So innocent.

Oliver stopped in his treck to drop the bodies in front of him. As the corpses slammed into the earth the crickets in his vicinity immediately stopped chirping. He could hear a rabbit dart through the brush three hundred meters away and half a dozen birds become restless in their various nests around him. He looked up into the sky then, before looking down at his victims, frowning sourly before bringing his hands through his hair, sighing to try and relieve the tension he felt building. The ugly feeling was so present. For the first time in four years… To a human that was a long time to go without incident and for him in truth it was. But to his coven it was one amongst a thousand messes he had made, and four years made no difference when they were all nearly a millennium in age. He was in this mindset when he heard the wrestle of air as another vampire was inbound. He could smell her a mile away. Roxanne. In a blink she was standing before him, ready to tsk.

"Oliver, Oliver... never before has a boy wanted more..." Roxanne sang. Oliver tilted his head back and rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his coven sister. "Did we fuck up again, Ollie?" she chirped and he pursed his lips. “If I had fucked up, they wouldn’t be here, they would be in the bar where they died, one in the toilet and the other blocking the door,” he growled. He knelt down in the dirt, his eyes flashing over the blond he had killed, her resemblance so uncanny to Scarlett it was startling. He could smell the remnants of her blood and it was enough to sent a shiver up his spine, pulling at his vampiric desire to devour the corpse, to shred it and consume what was left of her dying blood cells, the A negative calling to him. He cast it aside, however, pressing his hands into her spine and snapping it without a second thought. He kept his left hand pinning her down before he tore off her arms and then her legs, and lastly her head.

With the parts disassembled he proceeded to the second one. He was never one to burn a body, maybe in the old days when fires were common and remains were impossible to identify. Part of him wanted to leave the girls somewhere to be found, so that the people who loved them would know they were dead. Instead he knew he was dooming a family to grieve with the unknown, the parts never to be found. He didn’t know why but he suddenly stuffed his hand into the pocket of the girls jeans, withdrawing an ID card. Within a flash he stowed it into his pocket before he proceeded to dig a hole, not even caring if Roxanne helped him or if she left. He had to bury her and the act was likely more than enough for his blond coven sister to realize that he was having one of his ‘episodes’ as Helena called it, or experiencing vampire psychosis according to Kristof. Its my humanity that refuses to leave me, recurring just to remind me that I am an abomination… he thought to himself grimly as he clawed away with the earth with lightning speed, casting away dirt so fast that within two minutes he had a hole twelve feet deep dug, wide enough to through in their parts and to stow them far below the earth where anyone could ever find them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Kaleigh Ann Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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#, as written by Vix
Lucan shrugged some. "Smells like your boyfriend lost it again." He gave a light snicker. He was among the others who found Oliver's predicament rather amusing. Oliver was alright enough. A crybaby. But when he wasn't moping, he was decent company. Scarlet...? She was Scarlet. A strange human, indeed. Lucan had no personal issues with her, oh no! In fact, he loved feeding from her. Copping a feel here and there. He wasn't close enough to Oliver to feel bad about his sexual encounters with her. Sighing, he moved towards her and was about to ask how she was when the sounds of Kristof and Helena's love making reached his ears. No doubt they would need to redo the downstairs. Again. He rolled his eyes some, but he couldn't say much; He and Roxanne were the same way.

He cleared his throat as if dismissing the sound, knowing they'd be done soon anyways. Helena loved to hunt. No doubt they'd make love on the hunt as well. When they finally left, he gave a light nod. "Ah! The joys of making love. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Scarlett?" A smirk curved across his lips as he advanced towards her with a wink. He moved just close enough to tower over her. He cupped the left side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But, that shall have to wait, m'dear. As you have chores to do. Away you go." He quickly ushered her out of his room and closed the door behind her.

"Crazy kids." He muttered, referencing to Dmitri and Kaleigh below. He would gladly help the lovebirds, but it wasn't his place. Hell, if he so much as looked at Kaleigh, Helena would beat him to a pulp. So, he reserved to speak with Dmitri later. For now, he moved towards his pups, scratching them behind their ears. He would take them out hunting when Helena and Kristof returned - They scared away the animals when they hunted. Plus the pups weren't fond of either of the two vampires.




Kaleigh's words touched Dmitri's heart, forcing another tear to trickle down his face and drip from his chin. "You know I won't, baby doll. I can't. I love you too much." He smiled some. That was the first time he had admitted to her how he felt. Sure, he had shown through subtle actions, but he always kept his mouth shut for fear of something like this. But with the cat out of the bag, he could scream it from the top of the world. If he lived long enough to get the chance.

The sounds coming from upstairs disgusted him, causing his face to contort. One day...one day he'd kill all of these monsters. Except Lucan...Lucan was kind when he wasn't being a douche. He was actually pretty civil. Dmitri thought to call out for help. For release. But Oliver would just come and break his leg, Roxanne would just sit there and laugh, and he didn't want to get Lucan in trouble. Scarlet was a nutjob, so that was out of the picture.

So he sat there in silence, wanting nothing more than to carry Kaleigh to his room and treat her wounds. To brush away the tears and hold her and kiss her. He'd let her wear one of his shirts and a pair of pajama pants. He'd play a song to make her smile. But, only God knew when Helena would release them. Or let them live. He was sure Kaleigh would live, but he wasn't sure that he would. He hoped that Kristof's return would put her in good enough spirits to keep him alive. He just wanted to hold his Kal one last time.




Kristof smirked as Helena zipped right by him. He could hear the girl screaming out as Helena laid down the law. It felt good to be so wanted. To have her be so possessive. It warmed his still heart. Helena had always been this way when it came to him. It would be a lie to say that he never lied to rile her up and get her to mutilate someone just for the hell of it.

He smiled blissfully, finally taking back up the scent of L'Nae so that he could catch his own prey. Her scent was heavily reeking of O negative, Captain Morgan, sex, tears, and steak. It was strong and overwhelming, making him damn near vomit. But it really wasn't about the meal right now - It was strictly the thrill of hunting. He let his predator instincts rule him, his legs moving strongly and carrying him swiftly, his feet not once making a sound nor turning a leaf nor snapping a twig.

And soon, there she was. The woman was by a waterfall, trying her best to hide. Smirking, he was behind her in an instant. He wasn't really a fan of playing with his meal. Nor was he the type to torture women. Men, yes. But when it came to women, he personally preferred to just kill them. And so he did. She didn't even know he was there, no sound coming from her except the snapping of the bones in her neck. He smiled, satisfied as he caught her body and hefted it over his shoulder and moved swiftly to Helena, toting the woman with him as though she were a prized kill.

Or a sack of potatoes.

He found his love soon enough and chuckled as she played her game. "Easy now, tigress." He growled playfully in Old Italian.

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Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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"Smells like your boyfriend lost it again."

All Scarlett could bring herself to say was “He’s not my...” boyfriend. Her sentence trailed off, half embarrassed but mostly a bit frustrated. Lucan was just being mean, she guessed. Oliver was far from being in a relationship with her. Yes, the attraction was there, sometimes overwhelmingly, but that was part of the problem. The two could barely have more than a civilized conversation before Oliver would have to excuse himself. There was a scary uncontrolled part of him that she was curious about, but the sanity in her (if she even has any) keeps her distant.

Thankfully, Helena and Kristof were making enough noise downstairs that Scarlett didn’t need to explain her absence of words. Their lovemaking always destroyed the house, which was not amusing to Scar in the least. Mostly because she was the one to pick up the aftermath, and then she would have to help redecorate. With Lucan’s rolled eyes a small chuckle escaped her lips, she supposed that was most everyone’s reaction to Helena and Kristof’s regular sex sessions.

Within moments though, Lucan had cleared his throat and was closing the gap between them. Scarlett couldn't help but smile, thinking back on all the erotic and thrilling moments she had with him. Human sex doesn't even compare the amount of pleasure that comes from vampire sex. In response to his question she nodded her head and bit at her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked alive just long enough for her to be rejected. Scarlett puckered her lips at the tall dark and handsome vampire that she knew too well. Why must he tease her so?

Without a word, Scar made her way to the door. Before leaving though she leaned back to look at Lucan and said "Better luck next time." with a playful smile. Then she made her exit to the hallway.

With the the chores she needed to attend to in mind, Scarlett went back down stairs. The living room was a complete disaster. Most of the furniture was in splinters, clothes thrown around and wall decor broken to bits on the floor. Her eyes trailed across the mess, trying to decide what to take care of first.

Glass. That was always first. At least for humans.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Angiluzza Maniscalco Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Derek Fleitner Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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#, as written by Vix
Lucan leaned his head back, running his fingers through his hair. Where was Rox?! Humans were good for some sex, but they just weren't sturdy enough for him to reach his peak. He frowned and threw himself onto his bed, closing his eyes. His mind wandered as he thought about the time when he was a Forbearer. If he had such a chance to 'rise'...He would. They weren't just his Coven; They were a family. Dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless. He would never be able to shake from his mind the look on Nicholas' face when he was thrown out by him.

That disappointing gaze haunted his dreams.

He rolled over as another equally hurt face entered his thoughts; Angiluzza. She had helped teach him everything he knew about surviving as a vampire. She wasn't chatty, but she played the most beautiful music he ever heard. She was the older sister he never had. He was a shameless man, but the guilt of disappointing them was one he couldn't shake. He sighed and opened his eyes before sitting up. Why was he even thinking about them right now? He should be thinking about destroying Rox as soon as she came home.

He licked his lips hungrily and made his way out of his room and...where was he going? His wolf pups followed behind him curiously as he simply wandered the house aimlessly with a blank mind.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Eva Clarke Character Portrait: Angiluzza Maniscalco Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Derek Fleitner Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Annabelle Jefferson Character Portrait: Isaac Warren Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon Character Portrait: Adonis Charmides Character Portrait: Alessa Dattolo Character Portrait: Jasper Roberts Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Angiluzza

Angiluzza was damn near completely unaware of her current surroundings. Everywhere that she looked, all she saw was the deaths of Jasper and her 'siblings' on repeat. She just couldn't get it out of her mind...She could feel her body back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She soon felt arms around her and began to struggle against the arms, feeling immediately threatened again as she cried out. “No! Get off of me!” Her cry became more of a roar until she felt Derek's fingers wiping the tears from her face, smearing some of the blood. But the blood smearing didn't matter to her because Derek was holding her. She practically crumbled in his arms, leaning into him as he lulled her with a soft 'shh'. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered softly, closing her eyes shut and cringing against him.

“I tried to protect them! I did...But it-” She choked up and broke down into more sobs as her body went limp. How could they have fended them off on their own? They hadn't gotten to their 'breakfast' yet and it was...unexpected. No! There was no excuse at all! Derek had trained her and she had trained as formally as it got with her Senseis for over three decades! How in the hell could she have been so defenseless against them?! She berated herself mentally over and over again. She would have been slamming her head into a wall except she was limp, tired, and there weren't that many walls nearby suitable for that sort of beating.

Instead, she looked up weakly, sniffling. “Its...my fault. And I'm so sorry. Please don't make me go...Don't let me go.” Her voice was as soft of a whisper as it could possibly be. She lowered her head back down, resting it against his chest as she fought back the hysteric fit threatening to overwhelm her. She was reflexively breathing as though hyperventilating, finding the feeling of not being really out of breath so strange and frightening; it had been a while since she breathed. She imagined that was what it felt like to drown, driving her further down the road to hysterics. Her body went from limp to rigid as though she were physically bracing herself for hysteria to slam into her.




Kristof

Kristof chuckled as Helena remarked that they just might kill the girl off simply because they felt like it. He almost sneered as the girl cowered as soon as his beloved left. “Come on.” Kristof didn't trust the girl as far as he could thro- Well. Considering his strength, that particular phrase was somewhat useless. The point is that he didn't trust the girl enough to let her run off on her own nor to follow him. He motioned for her to come with him, though on a second thought he grabbed her wrist. As they ran, he did his best to move at the pace that was her peak so he didn't just end up dragging her along like dead weight.

He knew exactly what Helena had in her twisted little mind, which did make his lips curl into a devious smirk. To break Dmitri...Now that was something that he would like to see. It had been ten years – Ten years was longer than any human had ever survived with them. At least as far as the slaves went. He couldn't deny that the human intrigued him. But not enough to really care for him; The only person that he cared about was Helena. Though he was positive that little Kelsey was already scheming on how to seduce her way into the black hole that his heart used to exist within.

As she grunted for him to wait, he ignored the request as they had only just come up to the house. He released her hand but kept going, causing her to stumble and fall; how ungraceful. He sighed and breezed on in, finding Lucan pacing and Scarlet cleaning. He smirked “You missed a spot.” His fist went through the nearest wall. “Clean it up.” He spit on the floor nearby before heading down into the basement, Kelsey in tow right behind him, her eyes looking about in wonder. “What happened here?” Her mouth hung open and her eyes got wide. “Great sex.” Kristof chuckled, a chill going down his spine as he remembered just how much he had enjoyed it.

He was at Helena's side soon enough, wrapping his arms about her waist and pressing his face into her hair, inhaling slowly. “You're such a bitch sometimes,” He whispered softly, moving his face down to her neck, kissing her ivory flesh softly. “but its so God damned sexy.” He bared his fangs, though he didn't bite her as he looked over at poor little Kaleigh. “Well. Aren't you just a broken little bluebird?” Kaleigh cried out, pleading to be let go. But Kristof knew it wasn't going to work. It seemed as though Helena's need to break Dmitri was now priority over Kaleigh's wellbeing. Poor little thing – Kristof can't say he cared too much about her. She had no spirit. No fight in her. She was boring.




Dmitri

Dmitri had spent as much time as his voice would allow whispering to Kaleigh, trying to cheer her up in such a dismal situation. He told her about the time he accidentally glued his dad's hand to the doghouse and the time he replaced his cousin's refried beans with cat food. The soft smiles and light giggles warmed his heart – Did he truly love this girl that was nearly eight years his senior? Of course he did! How could he even question it? How could he not? She was so...Kaleigh. A sweet, innocent thing. And she loved him. One could not express in words how it made his heart soar to know it,

It had been silent for a while and he could hear pacing upstairs along with the sweeping of broken glass; Lucan and Scarlet? Probably. He sighed and slumped a little more until the sound of Helena's voice caused him to stir. His immediate reaction was to spit at her feet, but he caught himself before doing so, remembering that Kaleigh was at stake for his actions. He ground his teeth and looked away from her. That is, until Helena spoke a phrase that he had only heard in his frequent nightmares. She was soon joined by Kristof and a blonde...Great. A new vampire.

“Ohhh. He's cute! Can I have him?” She eyed him like the food that he was, inching closer. Dmitri kept quiet, his head held high and proud. He knew that he wasn't today's lunch...It was Kaleigh. The drastic measure he never thought Helena would take. How could she be so cruel?! It was true – She really had no heart. And Kristof wasn't any better. He looked over at the crying Kaleigh and his lips quivered as he fought another stream of tears. “You've already done that. Remember?” He hissed at her, remembering the day that he walked in ten years ago to see his then-future husband taking his last breath in Helena's arms.




Lucan

Lucan glanced as Helena breezed in followed by Kristof and a new girl. Oh joy – A newborn. From the generation of the whores. He sighed but said nothing, for it wasn't his place. Typically, at least in the Forebearers' Coven, before a human was turned and joined the Coven, the whole Coven must agree first upon it. But Helena and Kristof generally just didn't give a fuck what the others wanted within the Coven or who they wanted. They did whatever pleased them. But he didn't mind so long as he had company and a home. And Rox...

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Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Roxanne Tataeu Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander
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He loathed her for watching over him like a hawk. Roxanne had always been amused to meddle. Oliver truly did not need her there in front of him, teasing him as he dug a hole three feet into the ground to bury the blonde’s head. Someone’s daughter, Likely a sister. He pushed her bloody hair to reveal an infinity tattoo behind her ear. For a moment he frowned, staring at it, feeling the guilt wash over him in a second wave. How could he do this to people? And so many of them through time. His hands trembled but he knew he was being watched, that Roxanne would report every detail to Helena. So he didn’t wallow like he normally did when he was lucid and burying his prey. His hands trembled and he shoved them inwards. The girl’s head collapsed inward violently. He dropped the remnants into the dirt, blood and brain dripping from his hands. He flicked his fingers and slashed his arm through the air to get rid of what remained on him. Oliver watched the girl’s guts spray the dirt, the grass and leaves shifting grossly. He tsked, disgusted. His nostrils flared as he stepped over toward the mountain of earth he had dug up. Flinging it back into the whole, he finished the last of the burial, shifting plants and shrubs back into place like an expert landscaper, not leaving a twig out of place. He didn’t care for Roxanne as he walked away, his misery heavy on his shoulders.

The city was lively when Oliver returned to it. He kept to the shadows and the alleyways, listening to people walk through the run down region. The moon was dark and the night hung heavy on the sleepy down. Hurling himself up a fire escape, he stood at the top of a short apartment building, surveying all he could see, trying to cope as his mind spun with renewed hunger. Slowly, Oliver brought his left hand up to his nose. He dragged his palm across his chin, drawing his tongue across his skin to take in the last bit of the girl’s blood where it stained his fingers. He breathed through the taste, letting his eyes rolls back and his throat grow fiery. He was never sated. He could never drown in blood. He felt the vampiric side of him fight for control. There were hundreds of potential victims nearby. A gaggle of girls hiccupped and stumbled towards a warehouse rave below him, all dressed in nearly non-existent dresses and heels, purses bouncing on their hips and arms. Their shrieks and giggles pained him. His left foot lurched forward, and suddenly he was standing at the edge of the roof, watching, practically salivating.

Oliver grunted, bringing his hands to his temples, snarling as he forced himself away. Addicted. That’s what he was. He was hung up on blood worse than a heroine addict wanted his fix. But it was more than that. It was the power he could exert and the manipulation of the victim. He fed on more than their blood. The fear, the raw panic in their eyes as he sliced away their skin, as they saw their blood exposed, it was sacred to him. He lived and breathed for it more than a sociopath. At least the vampiric side of him did anyways. Right then, in his lucid state, Oliver knew that something was wrong with him, that this nature of his had been fostered, that Helena never wanted him to be able to control himself. He stumbled to fall on his knees on the rooftop, his head between his hands just like the girls had been. Maybe he could end it. Neither of them were there to stop him this time. He could just crush his skull and wallow in it. But he knew better. That was no way to end it, he’d have to decapitate himself. Oliver’s hands went to his throat and then shifted away in a split second to his lap. He looked up at the black sky then, tilting his head back, his mouth open, the dried blood on his lips cracking with the effort. For a long while he was motionless, just staring, falling into the darkness of the night, wanting it to consume him, to take him away. And yet not. Why?

Scarlett.

That poor girl was still in their keep, the one who enjoyed being with them all for some reason. Or not. He had never understood why she had come to belong to their coven, nor even how she had survived for so long. It had been years since he had been on a binge. His earlier epiphany remained: he hadn’t slaughtered recklessly since she had been with them. A degree of restraint had always stopped him from wiping out a room full of people in the past decade. Was that of his own doing or was that her? Or was it this lucidity that seemed to linger more than it ever had before?

Swallowing past the contemplation, Oliver shifted, the silence of the streets wafting up to his ears. He was so thankful for it. Rising to stand, the nearly century old vampire assessed himself. The girls were present on him again, their remains and dead blood spattering his fresh clothes. At least he didn’t like the blood bath he had hours before. He knew they were all waiting, that Roxanne was likely back already or wherever she had gone after he’d left her. Perhaps she had known better to leave him alone and the moments of clarity were his to cherish. He didn’t know how long they would last. They never did.

With a running start Oliver launched himself onto the next rooftop with ease. Jumping from building to building until he hit the forested area that surrounded their present quarters was relieving. His thoughts went to his actions. He was a few miles from the house when the heavy scent of fresh blood struck him hard. As he walked back to the run down house he could feel the presence of a stranger before he walked through the door. A newborn. As he stepped inside he heard the giggles below. Helena had had some fun, and Krystof was back. As the two of them took to their playing he swept himself upstairs, using his speed to avoid the smell of humans below. He stood at the landing for a moment, looking into the living space where their beat up piano sat. Scarlett had been there when he left. Where she was now he didn’t know, likely keeping out of sight and mind given the mood of their coven leaders. He walked over to it, sweeping his hand over the worn finish, removing a coat of dust nearly half an inch thick. He was grateful that the thing had conveniently been there when they’d arrived.

He didn’t know why but he wanted to play. It had to have been the first time in five hundred years he was doing this. The sounds had always reminded him of his youngest sister. But it was suddenly soothing to him, so he pulled up the cover to the keys and ran his fingers over the smooth ivory keys before pressing a few. Oliver let the sound resonate through him before he began to play something he had heard on the radio recent, the modern reflective tones causing him to close his eyes, tilting his head to the left while he soaked it in, focusing on it over the screams of frustrated humans in the basement below.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Helena the Bloody Character Portrait: Eva Clarke Character Portrait: Angiluzza Maniscalco Character Portrait: Kaleigh Ann Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Derek Fleitner Character Portrait: Kristof Allucius Character Portrait: Annabelle Jefferson Character Portrait: Oliver Alexander Character Portrait: Isaac Warren Character Portrait: Dmitri Deon Character Portrait: Adonis Charmides Character Portrait: Alessa Dattolo Character Portrait: Jasper Roberts Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Angiluzza

Angiluzza had stopped breathing.

Not that it was a bad thing, but it freaked her out; like she had just died. Completely died. All she saw was darkness – nothingness. She whined and her body trembled as he held her tighter. She slowly found herself trying to grasp some sort of sanity or anything close to it. She blinked until she could see again, watching Eva run by almost as though it were in slow motion. And then Alessa off after her. Her head lolled a few times almost as though it were made of lead and she couldn't bear to hold it up on her own strength. She whined again as Derek mentioned that she needed blood. Where was she going to get it from? “I can't go out like this.” she whispered to him. She also did not plan on feeding from either Adonis or Eva – Adonis had disgusting blood and Eva...She would kill the girl and not entirely on accident, either. She looked around, catching sight of a dead Jasper – Poor Jasper. She wasn't particularly fond of him, or at least not all the time, like only twenty minutes ago. But that didn't mean she wanted the poor boy dead. Roughed up for his attitude, yeah. But not dead – He was pleasant company most days.

They had a love/hate companionship.

Her lips quivered in a pout and she returned to another bought of tears. Some Enforcer she was! But it was her family! She had taught Annabelle to read and write and fight with Nicholas. She had spent many a star-filled night sipping a glass of Jasper's blood on the roof while talking about the centuries past with Isaac. They were both beautiful souls and she wasn't ready for them to have gone already! She knew that it was possible that they would die defending themselves – Such was the life of living in a Coven. Their lives weren't a guarantee – Not by any means, was it. But she had lived so comfortably, so happy with her family that it was so hard to remember how dangerous it was to even walk outside of her home. Sure, she knew there were Nomads and Fallen Covens and Vampire Hunters to worry about, but it wasn't like they ran into them that often. It was easy for her to notice how amazing her life was and appreciate it. There had only three deaths prior to theirs in the whole time she had been with the Coven.

She couldn't imagine just shrugging off their deaths as 'just part of life'. She knew that it was, but so was grieving. Having spent so much time with the only made it worse when you finally lost them. She shivered as their still-open eyes stared back at her. “I'm sorry.” she whispered again, this time talking to them. She couldn't take back what had happened – But what could she have done differently to save them? Maybe acting faster. She overestimated herself; that's what it was. After tonight, after they moved, she would train again. This time, it wouldn't be like the past couple of centuries. No four hour sessions with Nicholas – No, she was going to isolate herself and her nights would be only training and pausing to eat. Until the crack of dawn. No parties, no reading, no candy.

That's all she could think of before snapping back into the present. He was right – She did need blood. She hesitated before thinking again of what he would possibly be thinking of – He knew that she would not feed from either of the remaining humans. She knew that he knew that. They both also knew that there was virtually no blood left in the destroyed refrigerator. That left...Him. She looked up at him as his wrist was placed near her lips. Her mind wandered back to that day when he had become her best friend, her father, her brother, her savior; her everything.

“Family...What do you mean family? Where are they? I don't suppose the rumor about sleeping in coffins during the day is true? Or that I must always carry with me dirt from my home? Do I bleed, still? Do other vampires? Can vampires drink each others' blood? Or is that cannibalism?” She felt like a fool for asking, but she felt she needed to know. Her eyes lit up as a thought entered her mind. “I can go to school...?” Nicholas had chuckled softly, taking a moment to answer all of her questions as soon as she had answered them. She talked really fast, seeming to take advantage of not needing to take a breath and she was extremely curious. She was burning with hunger, but had requested her simple questions be answered before given food; what a strange girl indeed. “Let's start from the beginning, shall we? First of all, what I mean by family, is coven. It's not unlike a family. I will return to the subject of specifics. Currently they're some way from here, but not too far. You will meet them soon enough. But no, we don't sleep in coffins. Honestly, a bed is much more comfortable, but we do sleep during the day, and the sun is hurtful. Not fatally so, but it stings an awful lot. It takes a little while to get used to.” He smiled at her, trying to recall what her next question had been, before suddenly going “ah, yes, we move around a lot, so I'd say it would be a little difficult for us to carry dirt around from every one of them.” He chuckled, “so no dirt. But you do still bleed, yes, red just like humans. We do, however, heal rapidly. And... we can drink each others' blood. It's not cannibalism. In fact, blood-sharing is considered an intimate thing between two vampires. Some do it during sex, because it heightens the senses, and intensifies the experience. You can sustain yourself on the blood of a fellow vampire, but it's not as good nor as nourishing as the blood of a human....”

She had never tasted his blood, nor the blood of any other vampire. She was glad that her face was stained cherry with blood because she could feel them urn red and grow just a tad bit warm as she blushed. She tried not to think about that centuries old conversation, though it wasn't exactly easy. “I...I can't. I'll choke down some of Adonis'...This is a bad idea...” She really was suffering from temporary insanity. How long had she craved sinking her fangs into him? Over five centuries. And now he offered it to her freely and she turned it down. She imagined this moment would have been a bit...more when it had come along. Not with them surrounded in the dead bodies of their companions, soaking in their blood with her own self in a hysteric fit. But she really didn't have a choice did she? O negative made her gag and put her in a foul mood. Once she was in her right mind, her in a foul mood was just as bad as her in a fit of insanity.

She had no choice in the matter.

Her fangs slid out with an audible click and she leaned her head forward just a bit, enough to sink them into his cold flesh. Her lips quivered as his blood touched upon her tongue and a shiver went down her spine as she practically sank into him. She was quick to pull his free arm, wrapping it around herself while she bit deeper into his wrist. She tried her best for this to be a good experience and it wasn't hard. Her entire body simply...relaxed. Every care she ever had simply washed away and for that time, it was just her. And him. As it had been for the first little while of her rebirth. His blood was much thicker and much sweeter than she imagined it to be – Not exactly O positive...but she wouldn't mind it some time again.

As soon as the blood trickled its way down her throat, it was as though a supernova went off in her head. She entered a state of euphoria, her eyelids fluttering as though she were about to have a seizure. She saw him standing in the middle of a meadow under the night sky...though why was he wearing a buckskin loincloth? She watched in silence, seemingly invisible to the scene as her own self seemed to glide across the long, green grass straight into his arms, her body draped in a short dress of white cotton. Uh...Were they about to have sex?! She thought she might faint – She watched as they held each other with the faintest of smiles, simply standing there like statues; Not that she'd mind standing in his arms for all of eternity. Hell, wasn't she already? Not completely, but it was close enough for her. It was entrancing to watch the two beautiful creatures interact with one another; she envied her vision-self as he ran his fingers through her hair and traced his fingertips along her scars. She looked so proud to bare them, not using makeup to cover them. It wasn't that Angel was uncomfortable in her battle scars...they just tended to be the main attraction of her body when they were out and it made her short when people stared. But her vision-self...she didn't care. Vision Nicky didn't care either. He marveled at her as though she were some priceless piece of artwork.

She tried to concentrate while watching, but someone was groaning. Dammit, who interrupting her vision? She growled in an irate manner before watching as Alessa and Adonis came out, dressed same as Nicholas and Angiluzza. The four of them laughed together, each pair holding their own. Jasper followed with his wife - Angel had seen pictures - And Annabelle soon after with Isaac. They were all smiling and happy, dressed in matching loincloths and cotton dresses. Everyone looked so beautiful and Angel couldn't imagine a better family portrait.

And then Eva came...Timid and shy, crossing the clearing in a green cotton dress. Angel's utopia was shattered as her vision-self slid out her fangs and hissed under her breath. “Mine.” Vision Eva was startled, stopping dead in her tracks, fear filling her eyes. Angel didn't care. She should be terrified! Nicholas was hers! He had always been hers even though he didn't know it yet! This pet wasn't going to ruin over eight hundred years of closeness! Not now and not ever would she. Angel moved to attack, but she was restrained by him and the others. She turned and looked into his face. His soft smile was replaced by a light frown, his head shaking as he pulled her away and motioned for her to go. Angel was rigid as he moved past her and onto Eva, everyone else bearing the same frowns and shaking heads as they went with him. He smiled, embracing the frail human. Angel watched as Eva smirked from over his shoulder, her lips forming one word: Mine.

Her thoughts were vivid right now and the only thing she could think about him and his blood and how sad and angry she was. How long had she been feeding? Surely not that long! Her eyes had been closed the whole time – She couldn't think with all that groaning and growling in her ear! Who the fuck?!

Her eyes flew open and she realized that it was her.

Her back was against his chest while she took delight in devouring his blood – She was practically making out with his wrist, though her jaw had tightened as her anger bubbled, she was biting down into him as though she were trying to eat him alive...or dead. As soon as she realized where the groaning was coming from, she didn't take even a moment to wonder whether Nicholas had enjoyed himself or not, nor did she take time to notice his current position other than what she immediately felt. She flitted out of his grasp, standing on her own as her mind became semi-unclouded. Enough for her to realize the situation once more. She choked down a sob and brought her hand over her mouth. “Annie...Isaac...Jasper.” She whispered softly before glancing over to Nicholas. “I'll clean this up...I'm sorry.” Her temporary moment on cloud nine was gone.

They were dead. Not happy and alive dressed matchingly in clothes that looked like they were all Tarzan and Jane couples.

She had never...dreamed or daydreamed anything like that! Had she said 'Mine' out loud? She probably had, considering that she was groaning and growling out loud. Maybe he wouldn't have noticed – Last thing she needed right now was for him to distance himself because she was acting stranger than usual. She cleared her throat and licked her lips before sliding her fangs back in. “And...Thank you. I'm sorry that I didn't leave you with any other choice.” She muttered before nodding towards the door. “You should probably go check on your...On Eva. Make sure she doesn't run. She'll listen – You're all she cares about. Would be a shame to have to put her down.” She had returned to her usual, blunt self. Though she didn't really mean it – That it would be a shame to put Eva down. It wouldn't be hard to pick up a new human; It never was. She was growing increasingly weary of the girl's presence and that would not do. But, Eva was not hers to dismiss in any way and for now, she would simply have to pray that the girl would stop being stupid and try to run for it or ask for death or she would simply avoid too much interaction with her for the girl's own safety. She moved towards him and leaned over, kissing the top of his head before flitting off to the kitchen in search of something to clean up the blood.




Adonis

Adonis was silent. His eyes were closed as he took a few moments to think...He hadn't seen anything nor did he bother to go downstairs and check what was happening. His first reaction had been to find his damn phone and call Alessa – The only number in his phone. Sure, he got other girls' numbers; But he never bothered to save them in his phone. He didn't want to go downstairs – Why would he try to get himself killed? He imagined that Alessa would grieve – Direly hoping that she would if anything happened to him. He didn't know for sure, but just in case she would, he didn't want to hurt himself and bring hurt to her heart. Selfish? His reasons, yes. But, had he gone downstairs, the Coven would have been assed out of another food source for home. Not that anyone used him much. Adonis often wondered why the hell he was even around if he was just an emergency food supply – Rare was it that there was need of him. Not that he was complaining.

He got up slowly, blinking a little before unlocking his door and releasing the steps that lead down to the rest of the house. He was jumpy as he made his way down the steps and then around a few corners before down the stairs to the first level of the home. His sight was assaulted with a vision of red. Blood was spattered all over the walls, heads were lying around away from their proper bodies, and Angel and Derek were sitting in the mess of it all, soaking in the blood. Did his eyes deceive him or was Angel feeding from their Protector? Nope – He was seeing right. And hearing right as well: The woman...well. She was in heaven. He took a step forward, though jumped back when she started growling, the word 'Mine' escaping her lips.

He held up his hands and shook his head. “Yo, chica. Don't want him. Keep 'im. I don't swing that way.” He was quick to dodge past them, his bare feet sliding in the blood and almost tripping him. He caught himself and continued on outside. He took a few deep breaths before sitting on the steps. Who were those people? And why did they attack his family? He suddenly felt a giant weight on his chest like he couldn't breathe. He bent over and the nasty taste of upchucked Ramen came flowing through his mouth, spattering on the stone steps. He did this a few times, his throat burning and his eyes as well. Though, his eyes were burning from the tears that were falling. He had been so mean to them and all they had done was give him a home and everything that went with it.

He recalled all the times he told Annabelle that she was nosy and stupid, the times he told Isaac that he was a drooling retard. He hadn't meant any of it...But. He hadn't had the chance to apologize or make it up to them...and...Fuck! They were dead. For good. They weren't coming back. He wasn't sobbing, but there were tears streaming down his face that he quickly wiped away before wiping his mouth of any remaining vomit. Which proved useless because he only vomited again. He had never seen so much blood in his life...even being part of a gang had not given him such experience around death.




Kristof and Dmitri

Kristof watched as Helena finally got the reaction out of Kelsey that she wanted; fear. Kelsey was terrified of the mad woman who was seeming to take delight in what looked more like a dungeon than a basement. She started to wonder what she got herself into...Until her face was pushed into Kaleigh's stomach and subsequently her blood. She was like a dehydrated dog lapping up the last few drops of a puddle – Though, in this case, there was an entire human for her to drink. Kristof was impressed – He wasn't even allowed to drink from Kaleigh. Surely he was right in his previous assessment; His beloved's need to break Dmitri was now even greater than her need to keep Kaleigh alive. It seemed as though he would soon have to hunt and find her another pet. And it would be him this time – He didn't like other people giving Helena humans as gifts. It was his job to provide for her needs and protect her. Honestly, even as a Protector, he didn't really care too much about protecting the others as he did Helena.

He moved towards Dmitri with a smirk as he was ordered, grasping the man's head with a strong hold – He was trying not to crush his head like a sparrow's egg while also trying not to snap his neck. It was a little difficult for him to contain his strength when he was so riled up; And Helena knew it. He could Dmitri grunting under the sheer force that Kristof was applying as he was forced to watch his love be skinned alive and lapped up like she was a snack...But then again; that's exactly what she was to them. Nothing more than a snack and he had been a fool to forget it. He could feel his eyes well up with tears. Kristof could only smile as Helena's newest progeny lapped up blood like she would never get a drop again.

Kristof was a puzzling man; on one hand, he wasn't very abusive when it came to women. He tried to be as merciful as possibly, limiting their pain by making their death a quick one. But on the other hand, he could not help but to take pleasure in watching Helena torture young women. She often told him that he needn't be such a gentleman or even to try with them, but his father's ways stuck with him. Still, he watched while holding Dmitri still as Kaleigh was skinned, his tongue running over his lips, watching the sweet blood trickle everywhere. Helena's naked body looming over Kaleigh's while a third lapped up everything – Paradise.

Dmitri tried to look away, but Kristof yanked his head back into position, using his fingertips to force his eyelids to stay open; There was no way out of it. Kristof smirked as Dmitri's salty tears ran down his face, placing his head next to the blonde's. “Its a beautiful sight, no? This is true nature. Cold. Unforgiving. Its survival of the fittest – She never stood a chance.” He practically cooed to him before finding himself being headbutted from the side – Dmitri didn't have a lot of space to move his head, but Kristof was close enough to get just a little in. Kristof responded only with a laugh – Dmitri would pay for that later.

Kelsey, meanwhile, was having the time of her life as she tried as hard as possible to make sure no drop was wasted, her tongue running along every inch of exposed flesh, her pale face red and smeared with blood. She ignored Kaleigh's cries; Hey, it wasn't her problem. She felt better than Kaleigh – They could have killed her like they did her buddies. Or they could have made her a snackpack like they did with Kaleigh. But, no. She was chosen to be one of them! An elite being! Sure, she was just their sex toy. But she was still one of them. Still better than being just a snack. But even as she licked on...She paused to think. Was this normal? That she so willingly accepted death and was so eager to lick up the blood of a girl being killed right before her? Part of her wanted to stop and run away and kill herself. But the blood...It was calling her name. She didn't really have much humanity to begin with.




Lucan

The Irishman was still pacing around the home, seemingly ignorant to everything around him. He disregarded the pained screams coming from the basement because it really wasn't anything new to him. His mind was on Roxanne - Where was she? He hadn't seen her all night and usually, she was banging on his bedroom door at this time of night. He really couldn't help tbut to worry - She was so young. At least compared to him, she was. Even if only by half his age. He shook his head and glanced around until he saw Scarlett cleaning up Helena and Kristof's mess. Putting on his most charming smile, he sauntered over and leaned against the most stable wall that he could find.

“Ah, poor thing. Cleaning up all by your lonesome. Don't suppose that you'd like a bit of help...” He eyed the hole in a nearby wall that could only have come from a fist and he immediately assumed it to be of Kristof's. Weird for that man. He wasn't in a particularly foul mood as far as Lucan could tell and the man didn't seem to harbor any special dislike for Scarlett. Maybe Kristof's mind was going as well. Or maybe it was just something erratic for no reason. Lucan didn't dwell too much on it because it wasn't really his business.

“Perhaps after we've finished up a bit of cleaning we could go an' have a wee bit of fun?” It really wasn't that much of a question because he knew she wasn't going to say no. He and Scar had quite a few good times and she was quite delectable. Her blood type wasn't really his favorite, but she was still alright. Maybe it was because he frequently fed from her that made her blood so delicious to him? But having the same thing nearly all the time would make one sick of it eventually, right? Not really for him. He would be content to have a pet of his own to drink from whenever he pleased...Or maybe two or three. A blonde, a brunette, a red head, a Brazilian, an Aussie, a British. Ah! The beautiful women he only dreamed that would surround him and surrender themselves to him.

He had found himself lost in thought, damn near drooling on himself as he daydreamed. And then he realized that Scar was still there. “My apologies, lovely. Anywho – About those offers? They're one time only, so choose wisely.” He did his best to waggle his eyebrows at her, though he was never really good at it, he understood that his attempts were found to be quite...cute. That's what Rox would say. He wasn't fond of being identified as cute or adorable, but with his current body state, he would take whatever would get him in a woman's pants. Such was the life of a sexual deviant.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Scarlett Wilsten Character Portrait: Lucan Norvel
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Within moments, Scarlett became engulfed in the work in front of her. Though faint, sounds of chaos filled the house. The screams that came from downstairs made her heart lurch into hiding. Of all the years she had been here, she had never felt so insecure about her position in the coven. The unpredictability that Helena possessed was normally a characteristic that Scarlett admired. Tonight was different though.

As Scar gathered up the shattered glass from a broken frame, her mind raced with natural fears of death and dying. Unlike most humans she usually did not fear what was to come next. With all the suffering of this life, she figures there cannot be a life any worse. Dying would be just another adventure.

Without warning, but without startle, Lucan’s voice ran across the living room like velvet. As if she were a well trained dog, Scarlett’s head lifted to meet the eyes of man she both felt very connected with but knew nothing about. A man she both admired and lusted after. To her, he was a savior, a punisher and a confidant. Their relationship was not easily defined. They were neither friend nor lover, neither acquaintance nor foe. Scar felt very intensely for him, but she was unsure in what way. Perhaps it was just the fact that he took her away from a life she was willing to end herself.

When he first spoke only a small smile showed through, he was up to something. There was no reason that he would shoo her away so quickly then come and offer his help cleaning if he didn’t have have a motive. She knew exactly what he wanted. His first sex partner for the evening mustn’t have made it. “You poor baby... Roxie didn’t show?”

Her eyes rolled as he came out with the real question, she took her pile of glass and swept it with her hand into a neat pile. She then made eye contact with Lucan and pressed her lips together in a pout before going on in teasing him. “One time only. That sounds serious.” Her eyebrows shot up in fake dismay.

Scarlett smirked, forgetting about the noise below and only faintly recognizing that the low sounds of music were coming from the piano upstairs. Her mind flashed to Oliver, was he playing the piano? Suddenly, her previous thoughts of fooling around with Lucan were in conflict. She wouldn’t refuse Lucan, she enjoyed every moment with him. She couldn’t refuse Lucan, Scarlett was somehow in the mindset that Lucan was her master.

“We have to finish cleaning?” She said abruptly, her hand instinctively resting on her hip.