- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- Genres
- Basically anything as long as it has a good story line.
The darkness was all consuming. He was drowning in nothingness and the sudden surge of panic and confusion soon dissolved into a puddle of recognition. Just as something invisible wrapped itself around his body and a voice pierced the black, Darien knew very well what was happening. Gritting his teeth, the Hekan took in all the insults that Christian rained upon his head knowing that trying to fight with words would not help; it could only intensify the vampire's wrath which was already enormous from the feel of his shadowy rope cutting into Darein's skin. Darien was never afraid of the dark but he wasn't fond of it either, especially when he couldn't do anything about it but suffer through. Yet, that was meant to be broken soon. After Christian's question, Darien might have replied with something witty; however, his body was thrown through the air unexpectedly. His vision came back just few seconds before he hit the wall, so he couldn't do much about the impact but to try and lessen it with his power, which didn't help much anyway. His head hit the bricks with a recognizable thud and his sense of sight left him once again as the Hekan got dazed. The nausea returned as Darien slid down the wall, partially collapsing on the floor. Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness he could hear familiar female voice that was soon labeled as 'Rowena gone back to normal', yet he couldn't care less what conversation she was having with their loving host.
Who knows whether it was thanks to his ability to temper the hard embrace with the wall, or because he was hit in the head many times before, either way Darien soon regained his eye sight, seeing what was happening in front of him. Christian and Rowena were engaged in some fishy type of dance since it involved breaking one of the cases and the two of them taking floor for their lover's bed. Just out of simple urge to go and help a damsel in distress, Darien tried to get to his feet fast enough to help his partner in crime, but apparently his body had a mind of its own because it refused to even let him get on his knees without screaming with pain and discomfort. Being bent forward on his knees, supporting the rest of his weight with his arms, Darien ironically resembled a beaten dog. His costume was torn around his chest where the rope cut in too much; his mask was lying shattered on the floor not so far from him and as a goodbye present, one of it's sharp ends cut the Hekan on the forehead. It was too dark to see but there was an outline of yet another bruise forming around that head injury. Trusting Rowena that she will be able to take care of herself, hearing her voice being so full of malevolence and spite, Darien stole just one look her way and what he saw would probably stay imprinted in his mind forever. The Rowena he saw was someone suffering no matter how petrifying she looked in that moment. She was clearly enjoying her little torture session, yet she didn't realize one thing and it came to Darien only as a hint, but the two of them actually were not as different as they believed to be. They both fought against their own kind. Rowena, no matter how well she presented herself to be part of the superior vampire race, hated her own kind with so much endearment, it was hard to believe she was capable of hosting those feelings. Darien, then, hated being a Hekan, for so many disadvantages his condition brought upon him. The whole concept of them not having to, in fact, abominate each other was a bit too much for him to comprehend at the moment, but the sense of deep connection between them somehow lifted his spirit, even though he would never trade his place with Christian right there and then.
Since the vampires were busy, and probably would be for another couple seconds or minute, Darien took his chances with his own little robbery. He had to have the papyrus. Sitting back and relaxing against the wall as he didn't trust his vestibular system to help him keep balance shall he try to stand up. Using his power of manipulation which was already weak and giving him headache straight away, Darien somehow managed to skillfully and swiftly unscrew the blots around the glass and move the piece of material on the side without letting it fall. The papyrus, afterwards, just gently, as if by its own will, flew into his pocket. Well, that might have been a bit glamorized since Darien caught it in the mid-air and stuffed it in his pocket just when Rowena finished her torture session with an enthusiastic yet spurious exclamation. For some reason, he didn't want her to know that he had the papyrus and so he hoped she didn't notice anything unusual as he was still collapsed by the wall, almost in the way the blow landed him there before. Watching her approaching, slightly beaten up but still maintaining a sense of nobility, Darien remembered the painting he saw earlier and his face screwed up a bit, though it would be hard to tell for an outsider whether the expression changed due to some precipitous pain, or the idea of drinking blood again. However, deep inside his mind he convinced himself to leave the issue of Rowena's past for later when they would leave this sickeningly colossal and dangerous place. "I guess I have no choice," he answered in slightly husky voice and took her arm, reminding himself to only have one or two sips. He still remembered the incident in the desert too clearly. The irony taste filled his mouth soon and he got light headed. Just as he promised himself, Darien didn't drink as much as his perplexed mind wanted, but it was still enough to get his heart beat faster for no apparent reason. Staying down on the floor couple more seconds after 'feeding' with his eyes closed, calming his psyche down, he then got up, a bit wobbly on his feet but stable nonetheless.
"I really could never get used to this," he commented on his unusual, energy snack, shaking his head only a bit. "I am not sure if what we are looking for is here. He got me before I could have any look further. Did you find it?" The next minutes were crucial for their survival. They had to be quick and organized now. Anytime wasted on something else than their initial purpose of being here, could as well cost them their life. Well, it would definitely cost Darien his own existence since he sincerely doubted that he would be able to take on anymore enemies at the state that he was in. Nothing else would describe his grasp of the situation more than a simple comparison of him feeling like a hive full of unsettled bees. The urgency in his expression was almost tangible yet there was no panic or anxiety undertones, just simple focus and determination of completing the task and getting out of the mansion. All he wanted at that moment was to get the blooming map and get lost, out of the city into the desert, preferably.
Who knows whether it was thanks to his ability to temper the hard embrace with the wall, or because he was hit in the head many times before, either way Darien soon regained his eye sight, seeing what was happening in front of him. Christian and Rowena were engaged in some fishy type of dance since it involved breaking one of the cases and the two of them taking floor for their lover's bed. Just out of simple urge to go and help a damsel in distress, Darien tried to get to his feet fast enough to help his partner in crime, but apparently his body had a mind of its own because it refused to even let him get on his knees without screaming with pain and discomfort. Being bent forward on his knees, supporting the rest of his weight with his arms, Darien ironically resembled a beaten dog. His costume was torn around his chest where the rope cut in too much; his mask was lying shattered on the floor not so far from him and as a goodbye present, one of it's sharp ends cut the Hekan on the forehead. It was too dark to see but there was an outline of yet another bruise forming around that head injury. Trusting Rowena that she will be able to take care of herself, hearing her voice being so full of malevolence and spite, Darien stole just one look her way and what he saw would probably stay imprinted in his mind forever. The Rowena he saw was someone suffering no matter how petrifying she looked in that moment. She was clearly enjoying her little torture session, yet she didn't realize one thing and it came to Darien only as a hint, but the two of them actually were not as different as they believed to be. They both fought against their own kind. Rowena, no matter how well she presented herself to be part of the superior vampire race, hated her own kind with so much endearment, it was hard to believe she was capable of hosting those feelings. Darien, then, hated being a Hekan, for so many disadvantages his condition brought upon him. The whole concept of them not having to, in fact, abominate each other was a bit too much for him to comprehend at the moment, but the sense of deep connection between them somehow lifted his spirit, even though he would never trade his place with Christian right there and then.
Since the vampires were busy, and probably would be for another couple seconds or minute, Darien took his chances with his own little robbery. He had to have the papyrus. Sitting back and relaxing against the wall as he didn't trust his vestibular system to help him keep balance shall he try to stand up. Using his power of manipulation which was already weak and giving him headache straight away, Darien somehow managed to skillfully and swiftly unscrew the blots around the glass and move the piece of material on the side without letting it fall. The papyrus, afterwards, just gently, as if by its own will, flew into his pocket. Well, that might have been a bit glamorized since Darien caught it in the mid-air and stuffed it in his pocket just when Rowena finished her torture session with an enthusiastic yet spurious exclamation. For some reason, he didn't want her to know that he had the papyrus and so he hoped she didn't notice anything unusual as he was still collapsed by the wall, almost in the way the blow landed him there before. Watching her approaching, slightly beaten up but still maintaining a sense of nobility, Darien remembered the painting he saw earlier and his face screwed up a bit, though it would be hard to tell for an outsider whether the expression changed due to some precipitous pain, or the idea of drinking blood again. However, deep inside his mind he convinced himself to leave the issue of Rowena's past for later when they would leave this sickeningly colossal and dangerous place. "I guess I have no choice," he answered in slightly husky voice and took her arm, reminding himself to only have one or two sips. He still remembered the incident in the desert too clearly. The irony taste filled his mouth soon and he got light headed. Just as he promised himself, Darien didn't drink as much as his perplexed mind wanted, but it was still enough to get his heart beat faster for no apparent reason. Staying down on the floor couple more seconds after 'feeding' with his eyes closed, calming his psyche down, he then got up, a bit wobbly on his feet but stable nonetheless.
"I really could never get used to this," he commented on his unusual, energy snack, shaking his head only a bit. "I am not sure if what we are looking for is here. He got me before I could have any look further. Did you find it?" The next minutes were crucial for their survival. They had to be quick and organized now. Anytime wasted on something else than their initial purpose of being here, could as well cost them their life. Well, it would definitely cost Darien his own existence since he sincerely doubted that he would be able to take on anymore enemies at the state that he was in. Nothing else would describe his grasp of the situation more than a simple comparison of him feeling like a hive full of unsettled bees. The urgency in his expression was almost tangible yet there was no panic or anxiety undertones, just simple focus and determination of completing the task and getting out of the mansion. All he wanted at that moment was to get the blooming map and get lost, out of the city into the desert, preferably.