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Thread: [M] When Darkness Falls - [Karma&Ashen]

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    Default [M] When Darkness Falls - [Karma&Ashen]

    "Another shot for me and my friend here.." She had her arms draped around a boy, he was probably twenty-one or twenty-two. They were easy to manipulate at that age. The mysterious girl making flirty gestures at them from the bar. She knew exactly how to play it. After over hundreds of years you know exactly how to be whatever they wanted. Men. So easy. Dangle a bit of possible pussy in front of them and they melted. She used to feel bad for it, now it was almost boring.

    She had become cold and calloused, she needed to eat, what else was she supposed to do? She didn't always kill them. Sometimes it got out of hand, but never intentionally, well.. unless they deserved it. There was also the bloodlust. She had killed when she had gone too long without eating. She had tried to stop, she really did, she pushed that guilt to a hidden part of her brain over fifty years ago. She had to eat to survive.

    Her dark red hair was down and wavy over her little black dress, that showed off all of her curves, and just enough of her skin to be sexy, but not trashy. She balanced perfectly in her black heals and had a small mysterious smile that seemed to lure men and women alike. She wore dark eye make-up to make her eyes shine and the red lipstick which would look silly on most, for some reason seemed to work for her.

    She took her drink and nibbled on the boys ear, he reeked of liquor and could barely stand, this was the right time. She whispered in his ear. "Lets say we get out of here." She swallowed her drink in one gulp, and pulled him along behind her, looking back to give him a seductive smile as they stepped out of the door of the bar.

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    Once again the Count was tricking everyone. He was just about to stab the bride, Aurelie, and no one suspected a thing. How could they, of course, when he looked exactly like the groom, Medardus? They were expecting a wedding, and boy were they in for a surprise when they found that they'd instead be looking at a funeral.

    "Are you still reading that goddamn book? You must have read it a thousand times by now."
    Miles looked up from his book, irritated that he was being interupted again. He looked to the one who had interrupted him, a broad-shouldered, big-muscled man with hair the color of the darkest night. Miles closed his book and took his legs from the arm of an armchair. He swung them forward so that he was sitting on the armchair the right way. "It's a good book," he told him simply. "And it is more productive than anything you'd be doing now."
    The man snarled at him. "Yes, reading a book so many times is such a productive thing to do." An Irish accent tainted his words. "It's not even English. How can you read that?"
    "Some of us are bilingual, you know," Miles replied pointedly. "Can I get back to my book? Aurelie is about to get stabbed a second time, and it's a really good part."
    "You love these storybook characters more than you like people," the man said. "Why don't you get yourself a play thing?"
    A play thing was his way of referring to a girl used for all of the benefits of a girlfriend without the emotional attachment. It wasn't something Miles really believed in, and he was going to protest when a woman entered the room. "Ducharme," she greeted the big man. Then, turning to Miles, she said, "Mi Mi."
    Ducharme did not reply; instead he left the room, leaving Miles alone with the woman.

    He was grateful Ducharme had left, but he didn't want the company of this woman, either. She walked over to him and brushed her eyes over the book he was reading. "Ah," she said, "'Die Elixiere des Teufels'*, again?" Her German pronunciation was wrong. Miles didn't seem terribly bothered. "You sure read that one a lot. Anyway, I'm off to gather some groceries. We are running rather low. I was thinking you could help me bake a cake, later."
    Miles raised an eyebrow. "I am not a child, Eliza," he told her.
    "But I was thinking double chocolate cake," Eliza said with a small smirk. She knew it was a weakness.
    Miles shifted a bit. "Fine," he told her. "I'll help." He opened his book once more. "Thanks for shooing Ducharme," he called to her as she walked away smiling.

    To werewolves like Miles, Ducharme, and Eliza, a vampire in the area was never a good sign. They sensed her, too. They could smell her awful stench anywhere. Vampires and werewolves had been mortal enemies since the beginning of time, and everyone knew that. They wanted the vampire disposed of, and they certainly knew how they would do it. Until the vampire posed a threat, though, they would stay put. In fact, the entire pack was satisfied in their cottage in Forest Glen Woods, Chicago, Illinois. But the second the vampire did something, they would go after her. For now, though, Miles would get back to his book. Hopefully with no more interruptions.

    *Die Elixiere des Teufels - the German publication of "The Devil's Elixir," a novel written by E. T. A. Hoffman, 1815

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    This boy was struggling, she liked it when they struggled, the fear in their blood was almost like a drug. And like a drug, she just couldn't stop. It was so good and she was SO hungry. It had been awhile since her last feed, she had to lay low for a bit after her last. She didn't want to raise too many suspicions, she liked this city.

    When she was finally able to break away the kid was barely breathing, she licked her lips and leaned up and kissed him. "Thanks for the amazing night." With that she was gone. It was almost as if she had disappeared, leaving him there to die.

    She felt good, and it was a beautiful night. The moon was shining and stars twinkling. She should really leave this town, she was becoming sloppy and she had known from years of experience that you should never stay in one town too long. But Chicago was home. This was where she was turned and she always came back here eventually. She just couldn't bring herself to leave so soon this time. Although, the last time she was here, oh she didn't know how many years ago it was, too many.. there wasn't so many werewolves. The disgusting dogs were smelling up her town, but they weren't bothering her.. so she'd rather lay low for now.

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    He still had not finished his book when he was interrupted yet again. "Mutt!" Ducharme called, obviously refering to Miles. The boy let out an aggravated sigh and closed his book again. He was so close to the end, but he had a feeling he would not be able to finish the book before the day ended. He took his time making it to the next room, the great room, where the large man was standing over some papers. When he heard Miles enter, he did not even look up. "Did you write these?" he asked, motioning towards some papers.
    Miles walked over to the table and glanced down at the papers. There was writing on them, a script Ducharme would not be able to decipher. Each word was written in somewhat sloppy but legible German. Ducharme was right to assume Miles had written them all. He was one of two members of the pack who was fluent in German, and the other rarely used his native tongue. Miles shook his head. "They are poems," he said. "By Bertolt Brecht. I translated them back into German."
    Ducharme glared at the boy. "Did you think to look what was on the back of these papers?" he growled.
    Miles looked up at him. He knew he messed up.
    Ducharme picked up one of the papers and turned it over. Miles read over what was on it. It was a bill of some sort, and it looked important. "Liz was gonna pay these today," he snarled. "But look what ya' done to them! Ya' done wrote all over them! Oh, just wait 'til Beck hears of this one. I really don't know why he keeps you around. You are good for nothing but causing us more work, and I hope the brute finally realizes that."

    Beck, or, rather, Beckett Forst, was the owner of the cottage and more or less the leader of their pack. He was one of few werewolves who did not hate Miles, but he didn't seem to like him all that much, either. Miles was in no way scared of the man. Rather, he looked up to him, like a father or uncle. Knowing Ducharme would tell of his mistake to Beck, Miles felt ashamed. Again. He was making countless mistakes, and it seemed he could never do anything right. Ducharme's words were not foreign in this pack; everyone wanted Miles gone. Everyone except for Eliza, and maybe Beck. You are good for nothing but causing more work. Miles sighed. He knew that.

    He placed Die Elixiere des Teufels back on the shelf filled with various pieces of literature from around the world. Most had been supplied by Beck, who had brought a lot of them from Germany. Then Miles left the cottage. Beck would not be home until after eight that night, so he had plenty of time to spare.

    Outside of the cottage was a calm forest. The forest was home to many different kinds of wildlife, but mostly to a werewolf pack. No one knew about the pack--the humans didn't even know of the existence of werewolves. Because of this, they could all live in undisturbed peace. It was a short sprint to the city. Miles looked up at the tall buildings and sighed. In a city with nearly three million residents, he felt so... alone.
    He decided to walk to the library but took the long way, taking in the sounds of the bustling city, the smells that taunted his nose, and the memories of a past he'd like to forget.

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    She smelled him before she saw him, they always smelled like wet dog, although this one didn't smell AS bad. They were onto her, it couldn't be coincidence right? She had just fed and probably killed a young man and suddenly she was smelling dog? They didn't like vampires around, and it was well known in the vamp community. The vamps weren't thrilled about the werewolves either. She was about to dart, she couldn't take on a pack of wolves, but this only smelled like one.

    One wolf? That didn't happen all that often. At least as far as the stories go, but usually vampires traveled in 'Nests' as well, and she was also alone...She didn't like to think about how alone she really was. She filled it up with going to clubs and feeding. It was a pretty monotonous unfulfilling life really. But why make friends? They just died.

    She took a breath and leapt, grabbing onto a brick on the building next to her that was sticking out just slightly farther than the rest. She pulled on it and lanched herself on top of a little deck. It was done almost silently, as she crouched up there, looking down. She wanted to know if he was looking for her. This was the first human she had killed since she came back to the town, although she had bitten a few more and had been quite careless.

    My god, she was stupid, if she could smell him... surely he could smell her. So why was she lurking on a balcony? For a hundreds of year old vampire, she sure was an idiot. Really there wasn't much to do now other than wait for him to notice her. Maybe he would just walk on by and save her the embarrassment. Not likely. She leaned forward, biting her lip in a nervous habit that she hadn't lost in hundreds of years.

    Her body met the ground before she had even come to her senses. Oh wow, vampires definitely weren't meant to fall off buildings. Especially in front of mortal enemies. She had landed right in front of him, if her cheeks could turn red they would have. She quickly jumped to her feet brushing off her clothes. Trying to think of a sane reason why she had fallen in front of him and why she was up there in the first place when she knew that he could smell her. That blood must have been more intoxicating that she realized. Instead she just stood there stupidly. Her red hair every which way.
    Last edited by .Karma.; 12-14-2014 at 10:47 PM.

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    Miles had been humming something, some tune no one in the city would recognize, when he was forced to stop abruptly. Something had fallen in front of him, seemingly out of the sky. He looked up, wondering if any other human-sized beings would fall.
    He knew what she was even before she got up. She reeked of them, of the race he had been raised to hate. She was a vampire, a bloosthirsty killer. What did she want?

    The boy took a step back. "It's raining vampires, now?" he asked. "Shouldn't I be the one falling from the sky? You know, it's raining cats and dogs?" A pathetic joke, perhaps, but Miles was full of those. He raised an eyebrow at her. Bright blue eyes trailed her body. They lingered at some places a little longer than she might have liked, but he was a dog, after all. Bringing his eyes back to hers, he scoffed. "If you're trying to kill me, I'll say, you sure are lacking on the whole stealth aspect. Hasn't being alive for a few centuries taught you anything about being subtle? Don't tell me you're a bantling?" He crossed his arms over his chest. Normal vampires were bad enough, but a newborn? Though honestly, she didn't look like a newbie. Even if she did seem a little klutzy, there was blood at the tips of her lips. She had just recently fed, and she had done so discretly enough that no one had noticed. He hadn't heard anyone screaming, at least, and she didn't appear to be running from anyone. So what did she want?

    The weight of a dagger was heavy in Miles' pocket. If she were to attack, he would be ready with a counterattack. He knew how to defend himself, he just needed to be tested. He wanted nothing to do with this vampire, but he would not attack her. Not yet, anyway. He had no business with her, and unless he was about to be attacked, he found little need to stick around. He stood still though, waiting for her to do something.

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    She had expected more malice from him. She expected to be attacked right away or ridiculed. But he made a joke. She brushed her hair out of her face and smirked a little bit. His blue eyes trailed over her body, and her smirk turned into a smile then. "Please don't start humping my leg." Her dark forest green eyes twinkled with her own joke. She looked him up and down as well.

    Then he mentioned her trying to kill him. Her eyes opened a little wider in shock, but she hid it well. She really hadn't thought about killing him. Maybe because she had just eaten? He had insulted her stealth, and she was about to retort back, but what could she say, she had just fallen from a balcony. It wasn't usual for her to become tongue tied. She decided against the usual sarcastic reply because, to be honest, she just didn't have one. "No, I was just..." She decided to go for the truth. "Well, I was just enjoying the night, before I smelled you..." There she got her own little dig in. It was a tiny victory, but a victory none the less.

    He looked like he was ready for her to do something, so she jumped at him, waiting for him to flinch... Just for fun. Maybe to redeem herself from such an inglorious entrance, but the amused look was still in her eyes, not one of malice or spite.
    Last edited by .Karma.; 12-15-2014 at 11:59 PM.

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    She had gotten a smirk out of him with her comment. Humping her leg... hardly. If anything, Miles was wary of females. The only ones he had been close to--and the number stood at two--were ones that had been mothers to him. His own biological mother, and the woman who raised him. Other than that, Miles didn't care much for dating. He didn't think his kind even deserved love. She was a funny one, he'd give her that.

    She'd been enjoying the night. More like enjoying a meal from an innocent. Miles said nothing though. He let her talk, let her look for words that would not come. She seemed so out of her element. So awkward... She almost reminded him of himself. Almost.

    When she moved, though, Miles simply took a step back, unfazed. He raised an eyebrow at her. Her face... Was she playing with him? He tilted his head a bit to the side. She was trying to scare him, he decided. She was trying to scare him so that she wasn't the only embarassed one. But wasn't she mistaken. Miles had stopped being afraid of many things very long ago. A mere vampire would not scare him. Especially not one who'd made such a... graceful entrance.

    The boy cleared his throat and ran a hand through his wavy, chestnut brown hair. "I don't know what you're trying to do, lady, but I am not scared of you. I won't be scared of you. That probably works on a lot of your victims, doesn't it? Not just a vampire, but a soulless vampire on top of that?" Another smirk. He was japing at her hair now. It really did not seem like the kid was bothered in the slightest. "You're lucky it's me that you nearly fell on. Any other werewolf would have killed you on the spot."

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    "Victoria." She cut in when he called her lady. His long speech about how not scared of her he was, was amusing. she smiled again, but the smile disappeared. She didn't use fear on most of her food. She preferred seduction. She didn't want to think or talk about her last meal. She had to survive, right? She had often contemplated on the existence of a soul when it came to vampires. If you're already dead, you can't really have a soul, right? With no soul then what were you? She'd rather push that to the back of her mind, like she did the people that she killed.

    Why was this mutt making her think about such complex things just from a simple statement. She visibly shook her head and gazed into his blue eyes. "Correction. Any other werewolf would have tried to kill me on the spot." She laughed then. "But you probably are right about one thing, I am lucky, most wouldn't be making jokes about raining cats and dogs." Why wasn't he killing her? It was well known that they hated one another.

    Maybe this was a break from the monotony of his life too? She didn't even know why she was still standing there. maybe because she hadn't been so amused in such a long time. He had got a genuine smile out of her, she couldn't remember the last time that happened. Sure she had faked them when she needed to, when she was hungry, but he had actually amused her. Maybe it was that curiosity that kept her standing there, talking to a mutt.

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    Tried to kill her. That got a soft chuckle out of him. Did this vampire--this Victoria--think she had any defenses against his pack? The werewolves he knew were very strong, both in human and wolf form. Strong as this vampire might have been, she would still have quite the battle with any of Miles' family. He did not correct her. There was no point. They could go back and forth all night; the stronger race would only be proven if they went at war, and Miles had little intention of that, now.

    She had seemed to enjoy his little joke. Usually his jokes fell flat, so this was a step up. She had given her name; perhaps it was fair he could give his. "They call me Miles," he told her. "I am not certain why you have not made your move to kill me yet. I can't say I understand the hatred our races have fostered for each other, but I do know I have never met or heard of a vampire who made idle talk with one of us." Nor had he heard of a werewolf who passed up the chance to slay a vampire, but he kept that part silent. This was different from his norm. She had not run away yet. Even if she did hate him, he did not feel the hatred radiating from her. She was hearing him out. Smiling at his jokes. This was not something the werewolf was used to.

    He did not want to pass up his company. Miles loved books, loved reading of the adventures of various made-up people in made-up worlds, but he much preferred conversation, especially conversation that was not so one-sided. Victoria seemed to actually be listening to him. He'd grown used to the loneliness. It was a friend of his now, perhaps the best friend he had. That did not mean Miles wasn't willing to pass it up from time to time. He looked the vampire over again. "Just what was it you were doing in the sky, again?" he asked her. "Or, rather, on that wall up there. I don't suppose you were spying? Couldn't get enough of these devilishly good looks, is that it?" That actually got a smirk out of him. And maybe he wasn't too far off the mark. Miles had never found himself attracted, and never cared enough to think otherwise. His pale blue eyes were wide, his lashes long. His skin was a pale shade, perhaps of Irish decent. The hair on his head seemed to be very knotted. It was a chestnut brown, and if it were combed, it would be just long enough to reach his eyes. He was average height and on the thin side, and under his shirt were muscles that some might find attractive. At first glance he looked like a bored teenager, but upon closer inspection, his eyes gave him away. They looked faraway and lost.

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