(OOC note: This is a thread between myself and a friend of mine, to introduce our characters in a table-top roleplaying game--sort of a prologue. It will be a shortish thread, with a story that we've gotten mostly planned, which is why it's a closed RP. Please don't post here. Feel free to read it, and if you really want to find out what happens next, feel free to PM me about it, but please, please don't post here. Thank you very much for your cooperation! :))
Isabella stood in front of the mirror in the strangely empty restroom, observing herself with a critical eye. Her thick, caramel-colored hair was partially pulled back, letting most of it fall loosely in a fashionably messy style. Her makeup was slightly showy, accenting her lips and her dark brown eyes. Her black dress wrapped around her tightly, accentuating her curves, while her collar went high, concealing her breasts completely while baring her shoulders and covering her back with only two crossed strips of cloth; her light skin contrasted sharply with the dark color of the dress. The dress's hem dropped to half-way down her thighs, showing off her long, slender legs. She clutched a small purse in her hand, holding her few possessions. Yes...yes, she looked like a reasonably classy girl ready to have fun. That description fit her perfectly.
The young woman looked herself over in the mirror once more and smiled her practiced, charming smile, then she closed her eyes and whispered to herself, focusing her mind for a few moments as she prepared herself. She felt some slight change wash over her, then she opened her eyes. Now she was ready. She'd attract the sort of man she was looking for within the next hour, at the most. As crowded as the nightclub was, it was more likely that she'd find the right kind of man in far less time, but it paid to not overestimate her abilities.
Isabella heard two more ladies enter the restroom, giggling and animatedly discussing their boyfriends. She turned and strolled out of the restroom, letting her hips move seductively as she walked, using the "easy" grace she'd practiced until it had felt natural to her. She was on the shorter side--only five feet, three inches tall--but she had yet to hear complaints from men trying to seduce her, and she looked taller at the moment due to her high heels. Once she'd attracted the right man and gotten him home, she doubted he would be focusing on her height, anyway.
She got a drink, then sat down at one of the few unoccupied tables and watched the dance floor, leaning back in her seat and draping her arm over the back of the chair as she crossed her legs and sipped the alcoholic beverage in her hand. There was only one other seat available; she could already see a few men eyeing the empty chair, when they weren't attempting to ogle her surreptitiously. It would take them a few minutes to pass around the dares among themselves; once that was over, one of them would probably come over and hit on her on a dare from his friends. He wouldn't be the sort she was looking for; the first one or two never were.
This, she reminded herself with a hint of satisfaction, was a game of patience on her part.11/22/2011 #1 Report
"Watch your step, sir."
As soon as the door opened he was treated to the muffled booty bass that vibrated the very air; it was the pulse of a hypnotic monster that showed writhing signs of life. Crowds of people gathered and huddled and waited patiently in line but the steady, rhythmic pulse surged forward beneath their tinny din. The club, tonight, was a seductive beast that coaxed cattle from its banal existence with the promise of exultation. Tonight everyone was a star in someone's sky.
"Thank you Oscar," oozed his customary reply as he negotiated the doorway of a sleek, black, stretched-Jaguar and stepped lightly onto the red carpet.
A Ferragamo footprint caressed rouge velvet with world-touring aplomb and belied mundivagance before the masses. From somewhere beyond the periphery sounded an audible swoon. A three-pieced ensemble accentuated the highlights of this year's haute-couture and transformed carmine carpet into russet runway. Ebon -- the color clung to him in wisps of tangible darkness -- evinced the powerful appeal of rare kangaroo leather; it wore strong, supple, and as softly as silk. A sibilant swoosh accompanied the catwalk-parade and heralded his advent on the promenade. The tannins, an olfactory mixture of heady aromas and alluring pheromones, drew both male and female gazes with equal ogling magnetism. A blond-locked coiffure crowned the golden age of man as the pinnacle of an Adonis' physique; it was concealed beneath crisp, matte black that absorbed palpable attention from milling throngs. He stood reasonably tall at the shoulder and moved with the gait of a serpent in the wake of his half-back chauffeur. His cherubic features were plump and inviting before an angular lineament turned angelic facade; they were the lure of a patient predator before a Byzantine mask of deceit. The masquerade had begun...
"Look lively!" barked the big bruiser as he bypassed the queue and parted a sea of people to pave an unerring path for his patron.
A hush of furtive murmurs rippled through the crowd as if in acknowledgement of his arrival. Oscar and the bouncer exchanged glances for but a moment before a bow of obeisance greeted him at the door. The staff had been informed, his table awaited, and the portcullis opened. The hallway was a great, gaping maw that yawned darkly and peristaltic as it descended into the belly of the beast. The droning sounds of electronica induced trance-like, eudaemonic hypnosis in modern-day Jonah. An able-bodied, roomy-hipped usher presented herself neatly and escorted him with a submissive sashay and a coy bat of the lash. How...provincial. Oscar didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
The club was comprised of seven interconnected rooms that offered nearly every variation in the electronic-music genre: Trance, Jungle, Drum & Bass, Dub-step, Ambient, Hardcore, and House. He was given a grand tour to get the lay of the land which meant inadvertently advertising and putting himself on display as they wended their ways through black-lit rooms, fluorescent sub-cultures, and scantily-clad party-goers before finally settling at the VIP table. They parted ways with the usher but not before she whispered parting words to the waitress in waiting, a breathy hostess, and her cadre of consorts and courtesans. Oscar's eyes darted to and fro like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking-chairs. He was a simple man, loyal, and easily distracted by the swell of...
"What would you like to drink this evening, Mr. Bonaventure?" The waitress had timed her query with a lull in the music and he couldn't help but smile.
"Sebastian, please, and I'd like to start with a few bottles of Dos Lunas -- chilled with fresh lime."
This, he reminded himself with a hint of satisfaction, was a waiting game.11/25/2011 #2 Report
Isabella noticed the draw in the crowd and glanced casually at the apparently important newcomer. He was a good-looking person, probably rich from his look and the table he was seated at, among other obvious signs. She watched him for a few moments, then turned away, sighing inwardly. No, he wasn't the one she'd come for. Nor were the four men who'd hit on her or tried to send her a drink. All but one of them had been dripping with pretense; the one who hadn't had been quite forward about his carnal intentions and the fact that he didn't care a thing about her, beyond whether or not he ended up in her bed that night. It had been half an hour since she'd come here. She'd consumed four strong alcoholic beverages at this point, an amount that would've put many girls she knew well into the "slightly drunk" zone. Surely that was enough to attract him. Her tolerance for alcohol was high, but she didn't want to chance actually getting tipsy by drinking more.
"May I buy you a drink, Miss...?"
Isabella glanced behind her, the place the low voice had come from. The man fit a classic description--tall, dark, and handsome. She let her eyes narrow for a moment, as if she were studying him coyly, then smiled pleasantly, letting her demeanor change. He was perfect for her needs. "Isabella."
He smiled charmingly and lifted his hand from behind her chair, revealing a glass in his hand identical to the one in her hand, with the one difference being that it was full. "You'll pardon me--I noticed what you were drinking and took the liberty of getting one before I came over." He strolled around the table and sat down opposite her, offering her the glass. She turned towards him, still smiling, and took the proferred drink. The woman put it to her lips and tipped it towards her momentarily. "And you are...?"
Isabella set the glass down. "The pleasure's mine. What brings you here tonight, Aaron?"
Inwardly, she smiled. Finally, she'd drawn out her mark. It was working splendidly.11/25/2011 . Edited 12/1/2011 #3 Report
[My mom's house is loud, fraught with distraction, people shouting, kids running around and screaming -- right next to me -- the TV blasting, and as active as a circus. Less than ideal conditions for creative collaboration. I keep reminding myself that it is only for two days until I move. Le sigh...]
Sebastian lay in wait like a camouflaged predator. He leaned back against the plush couch and scanned the panorama from his vantage. Instead of lush flora and fauna there was leather, pleather, Lycra and Latex. Instead of verdant greens and vibrant colors there were inky blacks, shadows of sweaty bodies, and dark circles of perspiration. This was his habitat -- an urban, electronic jungle -- and Sebastian sought a specific prey. He wore patience like a tiger's stripes. The tequila was a cool and refreshing watering hole amid the blistering tropical heat; the limes complemented a smokey caramel like summer citrus. The rainforest was thick with brush and rife with vibrant life. The dance was a mating-call for the mundane -- plumage and pecking-order -- chest-puffing and strutting -- animals, the lot, living their genetic destinies. Each vignette unfolded before his eyes as the scenes' actors and actresses were swept by the coriolis. Oscar nodded with a stern brow and protruding ridge. Sunken eyes cut upwards like a Rottweiler and Sebastian followed his gaze to their mark.
Wikus Van Der Merwe stood at attention beside a lovely young lady. The pretty little thing had obviously imbibed flirtatious libation and giggled coyly at the clumsy advances of an amateur errand-boy; Sebastian paid her no mind. Wikus, errand-boy though he might be, was the prominent sycophant for the Arch-Herald of the city's Cabal and Sebastian was determined to use him as a rather prominent stepping stone. The Cabal was cadre of mages who presided over matters-arcane and meted out Educaton-Magicka in tutelage. Sebastian's thirst for knowledge was only rivaled by his cunning...and perhaps his curiosity. As soon as the comely waif waffled Sebastian would strike like iron.
He couldn't suppress the smirk that eventually sniggered and snickered at Wikus the Hopeful. That was merely one of an endless string of possibilities for this evening's outcome.
Oscar arched a questioning eyebrow at his employer before displacing his own knee-dandling trollop and moving toward the weasel.11/30/2011 . Edited 11/30/2011 #4 Report
[And over on my end, I've got the flu, and my head is screwy right now...my "romantic" dialogue would be even worse than usual, so I'm just skipping it.]
Isabella talked to Aaron for a few minutes, occasionally sipping her drink, acting slightly more fuzzy-headed than she really was, pretending to be an empty-headed fool. God knew she had the practice--a few months ago, she had been an empty-headed fool, blind to the obvious around her, content to flirt and drink when she came to places like this. The man had pretending to get to know her, telling her about himself in return, but fortunately she didn't have to suffer through that anymore right now. A man was coming towards their table purposefully. Aaron had noticed, and he'd just suggested that they find somewhere quieter than the club. She, too, had noticed the man, though she didn't let on, and had added on that they should go to her house so they could be alone. It wasn't hard to be drunk girl looking for a one-night stand. All she had to do was slur, mix up her words a bit, and not be subtle in inviting the man of her choice for the evening back to her place. It worked rather well.
The crowd close between the approching man and her table. By the time it parted again, she and Aaron were almost out of the club, on the way back to her home for their night.12/1/2011 #5 Report
His prey and its...prey had narrowly escaped. Oscar wouldn't have made a scene in the club but he'd have made his presence known; more importantly, he'd have made Sebastian's presence known. Wikus's awkward attention had apparently wooed the wayward waif and coaxed her out of the club. Sebastian observed their egress with an appreciative -- if a little sardonic -- smile. His eyes spoke volumes to Oscar who followed the couple as Moses parting a sea of club-hoppers and teeny-boppers. He followed in the linebacker's wake and breathed an exasperated sigh into the night air when they opened the club doors onto a deserted alley. The commotion of a heel scraping on the craggy blacktop drew their gazes and Oscar set off at briskly casual (read: inconspicuous) canter. The three-pieced suit wasn't meant for more exertion than the bump and grind of incidental contact so Sebastian nonchalantly maintained his almost apathetic gait. It was a walk that quickly grew bored with the chase -- that of a predatory feline -- the king of the jungle.
They were being led on a merry chase!12/4/2011 #6 Report
Isabella let Aaron hurry her along, laughing at his inane jokes and comments that would've been funny had it not been for her purpose, and directed him towards her car. Momentarily anger filled her as she looked at it, remembering the one that had been stolen from her, the one that she'd been unable to use again, but the feeling passed far too quickly for Aaron to notice. She unlocked the car and started to get into the driver's seat, but as usual, Aaron convinced her to let him drive since she was slightly drunk, and she let him have the keys. If he tried anything, she would accelerate her plans. She told him her address, and they started off. Aaron seemed relaxed most of the time, though she did notice him glancing over his shoulder at stop lights when he thought she wasn't looking, as if he were watching for a pursuer. Grimly, she laughed inside. He probably thought he was in danger from the man who'd been approaching them...but he was wrong.
About half an hour later, they arrived at her house, a relatively small, two-story place in a nice neighborhood. The property was more suited to a family than just her, but that was all right. As she told Aaron when he remarked on that fact, her parents had passed on, and they'd left it to her. She exited the car, locked it, and walked up the driveway, letting Aaron follow behind her. Her heart started beating faster; adrenaline seeped into her veins. It was almost time. The girl unlocked the front door, let Aaron in, then shut and locked it behind them.
Isabella turned and surveyed the spacious front room briefly. Nothing in the sparse room had been moved since she'd left. The young woman set her purse down on a small side table placed between the bare wall and a couch, then started to turn towards Aaron, considering her next move.
The man grabbed her shoulder as she started to turn and spun her to face him, then slammed her back into the wall. Alarm filled her for a scant moment as she wondered if she'd miscalculated, but Aaron kissed her hungrily and started running his hands over her body, inspecting her none-too-gently as he pressed himself close to her. Relief spread through her; she'd been right. The girl returned his kiss, matching his fervor, and let him crowd her close to the wall, pretending to enjoy his wandering hands. Damn, it had been a while for him. Generally speaking, those who were starved were the ones who acted like this...at least, in her experience. She'd let this go on for a short time to make sure his guard was down, then she'd act.12/8/2011 #7 Report
The stretched-Jaguar hummed along coolly and quietly. The partition had lowered to ease communication; Oscar deserved better than the intercom. The large man had skills that surpassed and eventually "overran" his initial job-description; Sebastian appreciated that. He crossed his legs at the knees and leaned backwards into the "L"-shaped wishbone that segregated the extended Jag . A forty-inch 1080p HD projected the shadowy images of late-night television onto his face while he ignored it with little more than apathy. The silent-partner played comic-reel to the projector of an electric panorama as rat raced rat and dog ate dog. The eight-hundred pound gorilla was a teenaged media mogul and an aging, arthritic information tycoon. Sensational to their last ragged breaths, the American Gods were ever-ready to arouse the engorged erection of a pecuniary Priapus, the clitoral gluttony of a gourmand Elektra, and the Epicurean appetites of a born-again Bacchanal. Why worship the American Gods when their intrinsic nature was more human than human? They would worship themselves far better than he could ever hope to. Sebastian sagged...until the limo stopped.
"Shall we, sir?" Oscar engaged.
"We shall," Sebastian affirmed.
Reticent to soil his hands but reluctant to stray too far from the action Sebastian lingered at the door and the proffered opening. He negotiated it with reservation and aplomb. The Scandinavian-Ottoman held no illusions about how much more difficult it would be to erm...extract the information he needed from an unwilling Wikus Van Der Merwe who had just been interrupted in he middle of a coital application of bloodletting conjugation. The lackey allowed perceived self-importance and the favor of the Cabal to elevate an already inflated ego. The truth of his station lay in the ease with which the one who held it could be replaced.
"I tire of this game, sir."
"As do I, Oscar. You're no better suited to being a cat than our dear friend Wikus is suited to being a mouse. Perhaps it is time to intrude..." Sebastian perked as he rounded the front, angular end of the stretched-Jaguar and the hem of his suit-jacket brushed the burnished chrome mantlepiece of a predatory jungle feline.
Wake up, Wikus.
The Matrix has you.
Follow the white Jaguar.
Knock, knock, Wikus.12/8/2011 #8 Report
Isabella straddled her conquest for the night, pressing him down on the couch as she bent close to him, still kissing him and letting him grope her. She found this exercise tiresome, but it was necessary for her purpose. Fortunately, it seemed to be almost over.
She could feel Aaron's excitement, the point they always reached, the time when they teetered between their two carnal desires, until they let themselves go and indulged in one or both of them. The first one she'd met had held her, brushing his fingers across her neck, whispering in her ear, describing what he was going to do to her when he decided to have her be his next victim. Her hands had been tied then. She'd been defenseless.
Not so now.
She, too, was excited, though for reasons he wouldn't appreciate. The girl slid her right hand between the couch cushions. Aaron didn't notice. He was far too busy trying to reach under her short skirt. Her fingers closed on a cold, hard object. She tightened her grip on it, then drew it out slowly. This would have to be quick.
She drew back slightly, panting, and sat up. He closed his eyes for a moment. She could see his teeth. The fangs were beginning to elongate. Now was his moment of weakness.
Her right hand rose, gripping a wooden knife sharpened to perfection, then stabbed down with vicious speed. His eyes opened a fraction of a second before the blade pierced his chest. The knife cut through his viscera easily, slipping between the tough cartilege connecting his second and third ribs to his sternum, slicing into his pericardium...then stopped just short of his heart.
An agonized scream filled the room, one of pain and anger. Isabella's face filled with rage. He wasn't dead yet! The bastard had caught her wrist at the last second! God, he was strong--all of them were--but she had to kill him! Her other hand darted towards the handle to apply extra force, but he caught her wrist in a vise-like grip with his free hand. He snarled up at her, his canines elongating suddenly into fangs, his fury matching her own.
Isabella gritted her teeth, then smiled contemptuously, putting all of her strength behind the knife, making no progress, but not letting him pull it out, either. "You wanted blood, darling? I think you have some now." She twisted the dagger just a little, eliciting a hiss of pain. His blood gouted out of the chest wound, staining his shirt and her hands.
"Shut up, vampire!" she snapped, leaning just a fraction more of her weight on the knife. It edged just a little further into his chest.
His eyes were glazed with bloodlust and anger. He was losing, she thought with satisfaction. Any other time, he would've been stronger than her, but right now...bleeding out wouldn't kill him, but it did weaken him. In a minute, perhaps less, the wooden knife would enter his heart, and Aaron, who'd been so afraid of the men following them that he hadn't paid attention to his prey, would be dead.
What she hadn't noticed was a knock on the door just as she'd stabbed her prey just moments earlier.12/8/2011 . Edited 12/8/2011 #9 Report
As his knuckles rapped on weathered wood Sebastian became acutely aware of muffled scuffling from just beyond the portal. Lovebirds! How romantic. He rapped again, this time more insistently, and awaited a reply.
"Shut up, vampire!"
Kinky. While that wasn't his preferred form of role-play he had always been rather fond of the blood-sucking mythos. They certainly made for a sultry coven of vampiric vixens! He looked at Oscar sideways and arched an eyebrow inquisitively. Was it time to interrupt this party? Sebastian hoped not. Right now two seemed to be a crowd.
"My pleasure," the massive man replied with a wistful smile that hid a sorrowful sigh. Oscar took two steps backwards and exhaled sharply as he bent forward and became a battering ram. His left shoulder struck the door just above the lock and snapped the frame like a twig as the door swung inwards on surprised hinges. The hulking linebacker stepped into the room and aside for his young master to survey the scene.
"Wikus," Sebastian tsked. "Is this how we behave in public? After standing me up tonight I was under the assumption that you had some manners." The blond man disarmed the combatants with his Cheshire grin and caught them off guard with a winsome, if haltingly attractive, smile. The violence might only stop for a moment but Sebastian hoped that would be all he needed. A comely young waif struggled, locked in the thrashing death throes of her fanged suitor, after having delivered some good, old-fashioned wood to the creature's chest. She appeared to be experiencing one of those nondescript cries for help that seamlessly transformed a technical difficulty into a life-threatening miscalculation. My but she was handsome. He rather hoped, offhandedly, that she survived this encounter.
"And you, dear, is this how you entertain your guests? Or is this merely how your entertain yourself?" Sebastian glossed over his double-entendre and continued without missing a beat. "Well, now that you've gotten this out of your system perhaps we should continue as ahem," he cleared his throat for emphasis, "adults. Oscar, love, be a darling and restrain Wikus Van Der Merwe. I'm not so sure he can be trusted anymore." The large man moved to comply without hesitation.
Sebastian, typically Scandinavian with blond hair, blue eyes, and angular features complimented by a Byzantine lineament, almondine eyes and an aquiline nose sat daintily on the couch and made himself comfortable.12/12/2011 #10 Report
Isabella's head whipped around to look at the door as the man from the club crashed through it. She felt a momentary sense of relief--if he or the man walking in now were vampires, she would see it in them--so they probably weren't allies of the vampire beneath her. Almost at the same instant, the vampire shoved up on her hand, drawing the dagger nearly all the way out of his chest. She cursed and threw all her weight back into it, forcing it into the wound as she turned all her attention back on him. These men who'd just come in might think she was committing murder. She had to kill him before they could "rescue" him. That would lead to her in jail, or end with all of them dead. When they saw his body turn to dust, they would understand. They had to!
The girl leaned forward, driving the knife in with all her strength. It slithered back through the bleeding hole easily before the vampire regained control and held the point just away from his heart, as he had before. She half-heard the men who'd entered speaking, enough that her lip curled slightly in disgust at his insinuation that she got off on killing like this. A moment later, her disgust turned to horror--he'd ordered his bodyguard to free the vampire. No! The first thing the vampire would do would be killing the bodyguard, then he'd take advantage of her unarmed state to suck her dry. She would [i]not[/i] die like that!
As the smaller stranger sat down on the couch placed at a right angle from the one she was currently using, she struggled, shoving the knife slightly further in, the sudden burst of desperation increasing her strength. "No! You don't understand!" she spat out, attempting to jerk her free hand out of the vampire's to add its strength to the knife. "He's not human! Let me finish him, dammit!"
The vampire suddenly choked--the tip of the knife was slowly pressing through the very edge of his heart muscle now. His fangs had retracted, leaving him looking like a panicked human. "Help me, please!" he gasped hoarsely. The look in his eye...he knew he was about to die. The girl gritted her teeth and hissed at the bodyguard, who was now close enough to carry out his orders, "Don't intervene!" She was so close--just another few inches, and she would pierce all the way through his heart.12/12/2011 #11 Report
No! You don't understand!" she spat out, attempting to jerk her free hand out of the vampire's to add its strength to the knife. "He's not human! Let me finish him, dammit!"
"Oh, I know Wikus isn't 'human' my dear," he paused, tapping his chin in thoughtful repose, "though I'd scarcely call him a vampire. However," Sebastian continued, "he was my date for the evening."
"Help me, please!" he gasped hoarsely.
Sebastian completely ignored the vampire as Oscar interposed one of his overgrown meat-hooks between Wikus and his wooden demise with such delicacy and tact that his employer blinked, clearly impressed. "I hope you don't mind our little..."he hesitated, "intervention. It just wouldn't do to allow you your 'fun' and avail myself of nothing after traveling all this way." He batted his eyelashes with cloying coyness before his grin became the wide-brimmed rictus of a ten-gallon smile.
"What are you talking about? Get this crazy bitch off me! I'll tell you what you want to know Sebastian! You know I will!" Wikus's cries grew feverishly fever-pitched with febrile-desperation.
"Wikus," Sebastian began, still clearly ignoring the hemorrhaging vampire, "is the sycophantic cur who lovingly dotes on my next conquest. He is little more than a boot-licking lackey and would no doubt prove his sole redeeming quality little more than a pile of sun-limned dust. Therefore, I propose a temporary truce. I see no reason not to continue your activities just as soon as my business concludes. I would be remiss if I didn't encourage it. That having been said, I also fail to see any legitimate rebuttal against delaying his demise. Your goal is now accomplished at twelve thirty-seven instead of twelve thirty-two. As it is of little value or concern to you I should hope you'd be amenable to delaying the expiration of poor Wikus here the scant moments I require to extract a few precious morsels and orts of information."
While Sebastian's voice invited discussion Oscar's hand prevented deviation.
"I am a patient man..."12/14/2011 #12 Report
Isabella scowled when the large man gripped her hand, preventing her from completing her task, but forced herself to relax slightly and look at the newcomer. She listened to him silently, making her face go blank, apart from her eyes being slightly narrowed in suspicion. There was something about him she found annoying, possibly the smug assurance of his words and the fact that he'd broken into her house to prevent her from killing a vampire, but she seemed to have no choice but to submit to his wishes. If the large man holding her hand had been a vampire, she would've dealt with him, but she wasn't going to kill a human who hadn't done her any real harm. The girl nodded stiffly, once, and asked a single, stilted question.
"What is it you want, exactly?"
The vampire, who was apparently named Wikus, not Aaron, broke in before an answer could be given, turning his head and rolling his eyes back far enough to see Sebastian. He shook his head hurridly, but he'd managed to steady his voice enough to be somewhat convincing. "The bitch will kill you because you're dealing with a vampire! I've seen her kind before! Get her off me, tie her up, and let me have her once our business is concluded. It's better for you--" He paused for a moment and grinned, letting out a glimpse of his feral streak. "Hell, it's even better for her. If she kills me, and you didn't prevent it, my employer will stop dealing with you, and he'll hunt her down and do things to her that would even give me pause. I'll even turn her, not kill her. After a day or two, I could deliver her to you if you want. She could spy for you, or be a messenger--if you don't want to bother with the work of picking up a girl some night, you could--"
A scream tore from him again. Isabella had remained silent. Sebastian dealt with vampires, obviously. Nothing she said in interruption would do any good; either he was enough of a bastard to give her to the creature beneath her, or he had some shred of humanity left. There was little compromise. She'd focused herself, gathered her strength, and twisted the knife slightly to shut him up. The vampire gritted his teeth after he screamed to hold back any further sound of pain.
Isabella immediately looked back up at Sebastian, her eyes bitter and challenging as she silently waited for his response and prepared herself to run for her life, should she need to.12/16/2011 #13 Report
"What is it you want, exactly?"
"Well," he paused -- only then realizing he didn't know her name. "Ultimately we want the same thing. Our...mmm," he smirked devilishly, "methods differ greatly but our goals remain the same. They justify your means even as they justify mine. That's why I respect what you're doing here. That's why I broke into your house. And that is exactly why I am determined to allow you to continue on your crusade just as soon as we have extracted every last ounce of Wikus's avail."
"The bitch will kill you because you're dealing with a vampire! I've seen her kind before! Get her off me, tie her up, and let me have her once our business is concluded. It's better for you--"
"Wikus, please don't interrupt me again. I grow tired of this game and my patience for suffering your presence is wearing rather thin. Oscar, please remind him should dear Wikus speak out of turn." The ogre of a man nodded affirmative and turned his eyes on the waif and her feral night-cap. Addressing the young woman Sebastian introduced himself. "My name is Sebastian Beauregard Bonaparte Bonaventure. I apologize for intruding on your evening of intimacy. Our entrance was rude, uncouth, and a tad impetuous...however timely." He winked.
"Hell, it's even better for her. If she kills me, and you didn't prevent it, my employer will stop dealing with you, and he'll hunt her down and do things to her that would even give me pause. I'll even turn her, not kill her. After a day or two, I could deliver her to you if you want. She could spy for you, or be a messenger--if you don't want to bother with the work of picking up a girl some night, you could--"
Before Oscar could determine the greater threat the vampire-bootlicker's screams filled the night sky and expunged every shred of remaining humanity from his feral existence. The large man could do naught but blink in obvious dismay as a satisfied grin appeared on the young woman's features. With a subtle flick of her wrist she had twisted the embedded blade and wrenched a jagged crease in the gaping, hemorrhaging cavity. My but she was sly! "Are we quite through?" Sebastian rose fluidly with a grace that belied his lanky appearance and defied the dry-clean defined creases in his custom-tailored suit. He approached the matte of splattered lifeblood and the tangle of limbs with the care and precision of a surgeon. "Wikus, I want an address. You know the one of which I speak. Please, I pray thee, don't make this any more difficult than it must needs be.12/17/2011 . Edited 12/20/2011 #14 Report
(Note: Part of the scene is missing here due to creative reasons. AKA it's a torture scene, a very good one, and it falls outside of the forum guidelines. So, yeah, that happened. Suffice it to say that the vampire went through a lot of pain but didn't give up the address of his cabal's hideout, which is what Sebastian wants.)
Isabella hadn't moved as the vampire had writhed under her, screaming in agony, his grip on her forearm tightening until she thought he would break her arm. Unfortunately, he didn't impale himself on her knife, but at least Sebastian had gagged him and made him shut up for a minute. The girl glanced at the intruder. Another bit of information she inferred from the punishment dealt to the vampire; the intruders weren't the vampire's allies. But, she thought, this had gone on long enough.
"Dear god, you can't even see the path to your own goals," she stated, her voice dripping with annoyance and a tinge of contempt. "For one, he's a vampire. He could probably find a witch to restore whatever parts you cut off provided he actually survived, so the damage you're doing doesn't really mean anything. And, besides that, his bastard is going to die within the next few minutes, so it doesn't matter what you do to him. Of course he's not going to tell you what you want to know." She suddenly tried to thrust the knife further into the vampire's chest, but, of course, the larger of the two intruders prevented her again. The girl smiled thinly. This was getting tiresome. "You're wasting your time. The vampire isn't going to tell you anything. Now, release my hand and get out of my house. A check for the door would be a nice gesture."1/3/2012 #15 Report
(M Rated scenes for this Forum Go: http://forum.fanfiction.net/topic/67850/19969333/1/
For your Information)1/3/2012 #16 Report