Blood Make Us One - A Gothic RP

[EriannaArmstead]

This rp is going to be pure freeform, in other words, pure imagination.....no stats, dice, rulebooks.....don't bother me with "I'm an expert at..." cause I really don't care. I want to see what you can do at spur of the moment.....if you need to think and plot, and can't spontaneousily "run with the ball", then this is not for you. And please don't bother me with "I'm an expert on vampires, werewolves, etc", cause I don't care......I'm looking to role play with people who have imaginations, not rule books stuck up their butts.

Paladins wearing full platemail armor need not apply.

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( OOC - I would like this RP thread to be in a gothic style, based on life in the Victorian Era, location London, England - in other words, use as little magic as possible please)



*Her heels tapped, tapped, tapped along the cobblestone street; the lacey train of her long gown swishing in time, as if to a sad melody. She passed the city stables, grooms taking care of the horses which had worked hard pulling the carriages. The nostrils on a dark sable one flared, his eyes rolled back, upward he rose in sheer terror. The groom tried desparately to calm it, a hoove driven into his skull. He falls dead, the horse running over his body as it gallops down the dark street.*

*She knew it had sensed her, the creature that she was. She watches as another groom runs after the crazed horse, while men gather around the fallen groom. But what is the point, he is dead, no more to this world.*

*She walks on, the activity around the stables too plentiful for her needs. Rounding a corner, she goes towards a small bridge that gives foot crossing over one of the many canals of the city. There, leaning against the railing, a young man, no more than 20, trying to catch the night air. He'd been out drinking with his mates, but knew if he returned drunk to his father's home one more time, he would be out on his ear.*

*She approached him, but he did not even know she was beside him until she touched his arm, so silent she was. He jumped, but quickly caught himself* "Ah, mi'lady, how can I assist one as lovely as yourself? Tis a dark, cold night, and you should not be out on these streets alone."

*She stared into his eyes, a soft whispering filling his head; he leaned close to her as if to hear her more clearly. Gently she placed one hand upon his shoulder, the other onto his head. Opening her ruby colored lips, the lamplight glinted off her fangs momentarily before sinking deep within his neck. He flinched for a second, so fleeting was the pain, and she drank long and deep, feeling his life's essence drain from him.*

*When she was done, she leaned his body over the railing and pushed it over into the murky water below. A drop of blood eased off her lips and dripped onto her milky white breast. She wiped the blood spot with one elegant finger, licked it, smiled, and continued over the bridge to her home*


*The breezes flowed through her raven black hair, lifting, teasing. The young man's essence flowed through her veins as well, revitalizing, nourishing* "Hiccup! Ooops" *she laughed* "Well at least he drank fine wine, for his blood was very fine indeed"

*She turned down Chitterton Lane and entered the wrought iron gates that encircled her home, letting them clang softly behind her. She looked up at the facade of the house, not quite a mansion by high society's standards, but still elegant enough. A short stone stairway led up to the large wooden doors, two panels of stained glass in each. Each panel itself depicting two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse.*

*Inserting a brass key into the lock, she entered her home, calling for a servant. A young maid came running from the back* "Oooh, Mistress Armstead, so good to have you home again. Shall I draw a bath for you?" "Not now Emily, the night is still young. Find Trent, I want to hear music."

*The maid bobbed* "Yes Mistress" *and hurried back from whence she had come*

*Eriana quietly walked to the drawing room, a fire set burning in the grate, but she walked on to the tall windows, drew back a thick drape and looked into the blackness*

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Baron Valenzano watched the bridge from behind a nearby building. His deep brown eyes seemed almost indicative of a Saracen ancestry, while his soft blonde hair and wry features distinctively marked his Italian heritage.

He waited until the woman had finished her business before committing himself. The hunter had found the prey. He drew his black cutaway cloak over his black waistcoat and put on his small, silk cap. He made sure of the loaded revolver secured to his belt and walked across the edge of the canal and across the bridge, trailing the woman at a distance.

[Exile, Bast Incarnate]

A cloaked woman sat above it all on a roof watching both the vampiress and the hunter. Only her black hair was showing through the clothing as black as the night. She walked away from the edge and towards where she predicted the two would meet.

The sound of movement behind her alarmed her. She grabbed a slick sharp needle like dart from her belt and turned to throw. She recognized it to be no more as a cat as she threw it. With her reflexes, she was able to twist her body just enough to make it miss the feline.

She shook her head and continued with her path picking up her weapon she called a 'stinger' as she walked.

((Just out of curiosity, are all lycanthropes allowed or just werewolves?))

[venatus]

Nym animi hiding just underneath the bridge has the body came splashing down. wondering who just killed the boy he waits till the foots steps cross over the bridge and then very carfully takes a peak and decides to follow the woman. after seeing a cat nearly killed on the other side of the street he realizes he's not the only one, and sticks to the shadows even more and he thinks ~ wouldn't want to get caught now~. Nym is in his late twenties stands slightly shorter than most people his age with blue eyes and dark brown hair most of which isn't visibly through his dark black cloak. one of the few things he has and takes care of. he has lived on the streets all his life and experince and his father taught him, the only friend you can rely on is the shadows and the silence but even they will betray you if you're not carful.

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Baron Valenzano sees the miscreant out of the corner of his eye. Despite the boy's best attempts to hide, the Italian's senses, honed to perfection from martial pursuits, rarely missed anything. Unconceding, he walked past the youth, unhooking his cane from his left arm and using it sparingly.

[EriannaArmstead]

(OOC - Weretigers are fine Exile (I know they're your favorite), and it would fit in, since England was in charge of India and most of Africa. I just want everyone to remember this is a period piece....the time of Jack the Ripper, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, horses and carriages, simple revolvers, daggers and sword canes, ladies in gowns, elegant balls while poverty and murder reigned in WhiteChapel)

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*Looking upwards, she sees the shimmer of the waxing moon between wisps of developing fog. She learned to stop counting her time on the earth centuries ago. She'd taken the sun's light for granted once too often, and now she ruled the darkness for eternity.*

*Dropping the drape, she turned and saw a man standing at the entrance of the drawing room. Tall and slim he was, a delicate face, and yet no doubt of his manliness could be traced in it. His hair was a silvery blond, shoulder length, his hands had long, strong fingers, his eyes.....his eyes, a vacant shade of bluish-gray.* "You requested music for your pleasure tonight Mistress?"

"Yes Trent, please do me the honor of hearing you play." *One foot stepped over the threshold, the other foot hesitating until the cane he held in his hand felt the ground ahead of him. Steadily he made his way to the harpiscord that stood in the corner of the large, yet still comfortable room. Sitting down upon the bench, he leaned the cane against the wall, stretched his fingers.* "Anything special for your fancy tonight Mistress?"

"Waltzes Trent, happy waltzes that will fill my body with energy to dance, to dance till the dawn sounds it's call"

*Eriana listened to Trent's magical fingers moving over the harpsicord's keys, dancing around the room with an imaginary partner in her arms.*

*She remembered this tune very well, the Emperor's Waltz by Strauss, Trent was playing it the night she first met him, when she made him one of her own. It was at the estate of Madame Devois, her Midsummer's Ball, and Trent entertained the guests in one of the smaller parlours. A young man of 25 years, and a genius at the harpsicord and piano....unusual for a man born blind at birth.*

*After he had finished, she made her way to him, as did other ladies in the parlour, but she was able to make them leave with just a flash of her eyes into their own. Laying a hand upon his shoulder, she felt a small shudder run through him. His blindness enabled his other senses to become very keen, and he knew she was different from all the other ladies that wanted his attention.*

"Oh my, 160 years ago that was. Just a single drop in the ocean of time."

*They walked out into the gardens, lit with carnival lights, making shadows come to life. Lovers embraced by garrish statues, water flowed into a fountain, the drops falling like tears. She let him talk, about his travels and how he played for society's finest, and royalty too. And as he talked, she knew that he was to become hers, and only hers. He would play his beautiful music, he would have his beautiful looks, eternally.*

*She was able to garner out of him where he was residing, and started to make her plans. How she would go to his home, on a simple pretense. He being a gentleman would, of course, bid her to enter, and then, well.......*

*But her thoughts of the past came to a sudden standstill, she banged her fist onto the musical instrument, and Trent stopped playing abruptly.* "Yes Mistress, I feel him too" *Was all he said, but it was enough*

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Baron Valenzano follows the path diligently, taking in the fresh city air, until he reaches the stone manor nestled away in the alley, almost hidden from view. Seeing the gate unlocked and no footman in sight, he pushes past the barrier and closes it behind him. Walking up the stone path to the wooden door, he raps the door twice with the steel crook of his cane, and waits for a response.

[Shura]

Watching the man at the doorway while taking cover behind a low wall across the street. A somewhat dishevelled looking young man, not beyond twenty years of age, adjusted the cogs around the lenses he wore around his strained dark eyes. The boy wore somewhat grimy black and grey apprentices attire, but what was unsual was the propensity of metal about him. Brass, iron and the occsional gleam of silver could be glimpsed when his shirt was pulled back or the contents of a pocket accidentally exposed to the light. Jarek, the mechanicien, carried small brass trinkets, complete with intricate systems of cogs, dials and pins. One was a pair of brass goggles which could be fitted with lenses of differing tints and curves. Another device always kept near him was a wrist ornament and bootheels complete with small blades that could be activated with subtle movements. Another was a set of vials containing various noxious substances for emergency application. Jarek hated violence, but one couldn't expect to live too long on these streets without being sensible about it.
As he stepped up into pale luminesence that draped the gloomy steets, it was apparent that Jarek was no match for the average street thug. Yet his body was lithe nad his eyes alert. His black hair, longer than the current fashion, was dishevelled and hung about in alternate curls, spikes and ringlets around his crown and across his eyes. His skin had a slight pallor to it, a sign of one who didn't typically seee enough of the sun. He had seen everything, and knew that the man was placing himself in grave danger. It would be wrong to simply stand and watch this time. Hugging the shadows, he tried his best to approach the man and remain hidden at the same time. Once close enough, he whispered a warning that he hoped would carry to his target, 'Sir...'

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Hearing the voice, Baron Valenzano took one step away from the door and looked around, hookinig his right hand on his belt, close to his holster. His sharp eyes made out the figure off in the shadows.

Hey, who goes there? he called out in a firm, yet not too loud voice

[Shura]

Jarek winced. he had intended to be heard but not seen. Nothing for it now. Lifting his hands to show that he was unarmed, he explained, 'Sir, only the ignorant would call upon that particular...ahem...lady. You put your life at great risk.'

[venatus]

Nym watches the encounter from a distence his ears trained on the conversation, years of living on the street has trained many of his senses to be extrodanary when he focuses them. from the distance he is at he can't hear every word but he can get most of the conversation. he doesn't wan't to come any closer because despite the man's effort to pretend that he hadn't seen Nym, Nym knew he was spotted and relized he had to be very carful with this man. then he thought ~hmmm so this murder was not some one time incedent the way that greasy kid refers to her you'd think she wasn't even human~.

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Whatever the ignorant might do, the well-informed will also do. The difference is that the latter holds more caution and has a different motive. replied Valenzano

He seemed noble in demeanor and poise, moving as if raised in high society, but spoke to the youth as if the other as a peer, and not as from a noble speaking to a commoner.

Come up here he commanded, gently. The voice was firm and the invitation, genuine.

[kaber]

~In a place with unlit candles burning, shadows moved to close about him. They whispered dark deads and he knew death had found him, and called him friend. Still he was terrified. He wanted to fight them off but the air was chilled. So cold, he could not move. He grew angry in his fear and the shadows moved to show a pulsing, fatty glob riddled with twisting channels and pinkish-gray wrinkles. A human brain that seemed to mock him~

Robert Keith Edington, awoke with a start, from his desk and froze for a moment as he looked into the blank eye sockets of the human skull before him. The top half removed to expose the shrivled brain within. Shaking off the nightmare, still fresh in his mind, he rose. A terrible thirst welling within him. Behind him a chalk board was scribbled with various notes and diagrams depicting the human head and torso. Robert paced for a moment, running his fingers through his hair as he sought to fight off the maddening desire within him. When had it started? How long had he been expearimenting? It had begun so innocently, a search for immmortality. As the years came and went his search intensified and before he even knew the signs he had become obsessed. Morbidly, obsessed. Convinced that the secret lay within man himself he started expearimenting, first on animals, then human cadavers, yet he as close as he came he was still at a loss, untill his first, live, victum.
the first time was the hardest. Even though he had planned it carefully as he designed the "apperatus", it was still a sloppy kill. Fortunatly, Scotland Yard's babboons couldn't make heads or tails of it and it was filed as another "Unsolved Mystery".
It was funny that his crimes should be used as evidence to support the existance of Vampires. Thought it wasn't blood that was drained. And noone really gave any creadence to such a flight of fancy as Vampires. Of course only a few bodies were found and most were homeless. So what. A homeless serial killer? Scotland Yard had enouph to worry about.

He learned much that first time and the second went smoother, and now? He had killed twenty five times already and now it was just a need. He needed the serum. He needed it like nothing else. That need haunted him. drove him, drove him to kill. Drove him to maddness.

No!......I am not insane, I know that. It is all in the name of science. The persute of knowledge. Of immortality.

Robert realized he had stopped pacing and had in fact spoken aloud. He also realized he was shaking. He needed more serum. More time to complete his studies. He haden't written in his journals for some time. He would fix that when he returned. He must document the facts.

Robert Edington took off his stained lab coat, throwing on a chair and took his overcoat from the rack near the door. Pausing to stare at his gaunt reflection in a mirror by the door. He was average height, about 5'8. Black, unrully hair, stubble on his thin face. He fallowed his long slender nose to the inset of his eyes. Dark bags beneath them, the eyes themselves seemed to be loosing their pigment even as they grew glossier. The change frightened him somewhat but some sacrafices needed to be made. He grimiced at the image and picking up a black leather bag from the floor, he flew out the door and into the fog enshrouded night.

In the darkness, Old Ben chimed 1a.m. To Robert, it sounded like a death knell.

For whom doth the bell toll? I wonder.
Robert chuckeled to himself as the fog swallowed him

[Exile, Bast Incarnate]

From above, the men could hear the words, "Leave this house if you wish to live. You are venturing where you do not belong."

[EK - Shadow of Death]

Baron Valenzano removed his cap and looked upwards

A gentleman does not shy away from his neighbor. I have not yet met the lady of the manor, and will not have my reputation sullied by failing to do so he said, contently Come down here, so that I can address you plainly