Roleplay with Tsimmu

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Blue, Sep 27, 2014.

  1. It was common knowledge in any big city that leaving your house at night when the shadows of the tall buildings had set in was dangerous and as the sun sunk down most would slip away into their safe homes until it returned. Of course there were always those daring few, ignorant to the world around them and the threats it showed. They would walk alone at night headed home from work and such, or perhaps simply to test fate itself and prove they did not fear the night. As of the last few months, there seemed to be fewer and fewer of these daring souls.

    Three months to be exact. It had taken just three months for word to spread like an infection that the streets were more dangerous then ever- but not just for the humans. All supernatural in the area were tipping on the face of exposure just because of one ravenous new born leech. It was said that she attacked unprovoked, feeding as she pleased or simply slaughtering anyone who happened to cross her path. She was hostile, wild, without a clear reasoning thought it seemed and extremely dangerous to humans as well as the secrecy of the super natural community.

    Of course, perhaps these rumours would have bothered Isabella a bit more if she had been up to date with them but she was ignorant to it all, caught in her own troubled world. Standing in the dark shadows created in contrast of the moons brilliant light, she ran a hand through her ginger hair and slid down the building wall until she was sitting on the dirty ground with her back to it. "What are you doing?" She mumbled to herself, painfully aware of the street around her when she had once been so blind in comparison. Her sharpened senses told her there was someone coming up, walking down the street to pass were she sat. No, multiple people. She glared at the thin hands resting on her lap, a shade as if made of porcelain with long nails. Unkept, of course. They even still had a bit of blood under them, the reason for such a glare. "How did you end up like this..."

    Three men, young adults were the ones that had been headed past. They were laughing loudly at only what they knew and ignored the tall girl sitting on the streets as they turned a corner and headed into an alley way to do god knows what. Immediately Isabella lifted her head, eyes lighting up threateningly as she saw them turn. A small sharp smile twitched in the corner of her mouth- she had already fed earlier today but was not going to let an opportunity like this pass up. Pushing herself up she followed with quick steps into the alley way which was only lit up by the moon.

    "Hey baby," One of the men grinned as he glanced back and caught sight of Isabella. He stopped, having caught the attention of his friends and they hooted, edging him on. They were deep in the alley, caught in the middle of the long stretch. "What's a pretty thing like you doin' out here in the dark? Its dangerous on the streets ya' know, monsters and such." His friends laughed and the man glanced back at them with a wink as Isabella continued to advance on him at a slow walk. "Indeed their are," She smiled and ran her long fingers through her hair, flashing white teeth and long fangs. "How unfortunate you seem to have caught yourself out on such a night."

    As the man opened his mouth to respond, Isabella lunged forward and grabbed him. She turned and easily lifted him up from his collar as it was nothing, slamming him against the wall. His horrified and shocked expression made her laugh for a moment before she pulled her free hand up to wrap around his neck. Ah yes, this was better. No more thinking, she could just let her mind slip away for the moment. Taken over by the monster. A terrified scream that rang out from one of his friends made her head snap to the side with wide fiery brown eyes breaking the darkness. She dug her nails into the mans neck letting the blood run down her arm before tossing him aside, oblivious to the sounds he made and focused on her next target which was already running. She grinned and shifted her weight before sprinting after him.
  2. Sitting at his office desk behind the black curtains of a boisterous nightclub, a very old vampire sat brooding. His features were classically French and well-sculpted, with short jet black hair and light eyes that were a mesmerizing color of grey. Tonight, however, they were drawn together, perplexed. Marcel was already having a busy night, and he wasn't amused by it either. The club was full of people, and he had just finished having a meaningful and fruitful conversation with one of his... more interesting employees. That had been the satisfying result of a mishap from the night before, but he had other things on his mind besides his employees. He spread the papers on his desk out with one hand, leaning back in his chair.

    Marcel was the residential master vampire of Chicago. There was very little he couldn't handle, and he was the most powerful vampire in his domain. This came with it's perks, and it's complications. Most any issue that arose within the Chicago vampire community was brought to him, and he was expected to deal with it. Not personally, of course, in most situations. And it wasn't uncommon for troublesome fledgling vampires to arise. But lately he had been getting weekly, and then daily reports of a young vampire making quite the ruckus in his city. This particular problem was quickly getting out of hand, and no one he had sent to take care of it had even been able to find her, let alone cease her troublesome activities. He signed and reread the most recent document placed on his desk. It spoke of some decently brutal - and wasteful, at that - murders of humans at night, mostly in deep back alleys. They were clearly vampire, and clearly performed by an amateur. This was troubling because the vampire community had enough on their plate as it was, what with trying to slowly inform the human masses of their existence. Coming out to the general population and having several gruesome murders occur all at once did not equal good publicity for their kind. And Marcel was not prepared to be personally affected by some young upstarts personal issues. He had a bar to run, after all, and his patrons as of now were an equal mixture of human and supernatural. They came for the thrill of seeing something not like themselves... and they would cease coming at all were they to believe their lives were truly in danger here.

    He closed his eyes, thinking, but his thought was interrupted by a scream that quickly trailed off into a gurgle. He smirked. "Lucky me. Incompetence has brought this problem to my doorstep." His voice still held a hint of French accent, and he sounded bitter. He was old and powerful, but he had only just recently come to the States. Marcel had needed a change of scenery. The old vampire stood gracefully from his chair and exited through the black curtains. A few of his employees looked up in curiosity, but he did not glance their way. He simply exited through the front door and stood outside, listening. He heard another scream. In a blur of motion too fast for the human eye, he located the scene of the incident, coming face to face with a terrified young man of questionable morals. He had practically run into Marcel, who took him by the shoulder and moved him to the side to allow him to continue running. He looked at the vampire coming towards him - young, pale and red-headed, her eyes blazing. The smell of blood had hit him as soon as he had left the club, but it surprised him to see how wasteful she had been. Most young vampires killed excessively out of hunger, or simply because they did not know the rules of their society yet. "Dear me," He voiced quietly. "What a mess you have made." He chided gently, his mouth turned up into a half smile, but it wasn't a pleasant one. He ignored the sounds of the first young man she had attacked as he struggled to breathe on the ground, choking on his own blood. He wouldn't die anytime soon, so Marcel ignored him for now. His attention was fully focused on the young vampire before him.
    #2 Tsimmu, Sep 27, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  3. Isabella grinned again and bolted after the man as he ran but she made a mental note of where the third on ran off too. She had no intention of letting any of them go, not for the feed or even the thrill, but because she felt like she needed to do this. It felt so natural, forgetting about everything else to just focus on the chase. In these last bloody three months she had yet to let even one escape. She could see every detail on him as he ran, hear every panicked laboured breath but most importantly she could pick up his heartbeat. It was wild with fear like a field mouse, drawing her in even more. Every step she took was silent as her black boots barely touched the ground with such a speed and her hair was pushed back. Her victim of a moment ago lay forgotten just behind her, gagging on the liquid red pool forming on the ground.

    When her target stopped running suddenly however, she also skidded to a stop almost immediately with a furrowed confused expression. Her frame completely still as she watched a hand push aside her horrified victim, she immediately drew her lip back into a snarl. What the hell was this? She did not take kindly to being interrupted and the simple movement the man made caused Isabella to see him as a threat to her target. A competitor. "He's mine!" Her voice came out as a snap and a snarl. She could tell this was not a human, instinct perhaps but exactly what he happened to be was still uncertain. When the man pushed her panicked human aside so he could continue running Isabella's brows furrowed in confusion again. What was he doing, letting the human get away? Her red hair was messy and curled around her shoulders, it looked rather dirty but still the color reflected her confused and slightly furious brown eyes.

    She allowed herself to look at the man in the eyes, not the least bit intimidated by him even after he spoke. "Dear me. What a mess you have made." For a moment, Isabella thought about his words and her furious attitude faltered. She glanced at the man choking on the ground and she ran a hand down her bloody arm, coating the pads of her fingers red-brown. Was she... feeling regret? And perhaps even a bit ashamed... It didn't feel natural, and only lasted for a split second after his words but still a pit formed in her stomach. Wait, what? No. Another thought came to mind causing her eyes to flare up again in anger and her lip to draw back, all thought of his words gone as her target slipped out of view. "Danmitt!" She hissed looking back over her shoulder at the one she had yet to go after, he was gone too. Two targets lost in one night, she already felt like a failure. All her anger was immediately directed to this strange man who had gotten in the way.

    "Who the hell are you?" She spat, straitening up but in no means was she off of predator mode- in fact Isabella was ready to rip his throat out. If he were to move she would be ready, not to run but to attack back. Until then, her sharp mouth ran off without giving him any pause to respond. "Now look what you've done, you let him get away! Iv'e never let one get away! Your going to have hell to pay for this, do you have any idea how empty the streets have been lately?" Her words were incredibly quick with no trace of a forien accent. Her fangs flashed with each word. She realised he had given her his full focus, but the way he looked at her was slightly unnerving. There was something wrong with that smile, it made her take a small step back and repeat her question a bit slower- but by no means was her tone any softer. "Who are you?"
  4. His slight smile became a wide grin, showing his own set of teeth off to her unnecessarily. He spoke quietly, with an eery calm to his voice. It was a voice that held power. "I am Marcel. And I overlook this city." He told her, though he did not think she would care as a normal vampire would. She was new, she had no taste for rules or regulations. That could mean a lot of trouble might be on his hands in this situation, but he wasn't ready to judge it completely just yet. In general he considered most young vampires to be reckless and petulant until they hit about 50. He saw something in her eyes, her expression, change ever so slightly. His face returned to a close-lipped smile and he looked vaguely amused. She was a problem, yes, but anything was better than being bored. Perhaps this encounter would be an interesting one. In response to her earlier rant, he spoke matter-of-factly. "Why yes. I do know how empty the streets have been. I also know the reason they have been empty." There was an implication there, an unspoken accusation. He saw her staring at the man on the ground and continued. "You have fed." His voice sounded vaguely bored as he relayed that fact. "You did not need anything. The lack of people has nothing to do with your hunger." He paused, giving her a more firm look than before.

    "I think the better question, ma chère, is who are you?" He had not moved from his spot since appearing there before the human male. There was nothing he felt he needed to do... yet. He was watching her, his eyes moving very subtly as he took in her appearance and tried to judge her age. Not her age at the time of death, but how long she had been undead. It was hard to tell. There was something strangely feral about her.
    #4 Tsimmu, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  5. Overlook the city? Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what that meant without giving off any indication of her ignorance- she hated being confused, it made her feel like a child. Was he the mayor? Something about his tone, when he addressed her question made Isabella uncomfortable but she couldn't quite pick out the accusation. The wide grin might have made her shiver under calmer circumstances. Was he toying with her? The thought brought a quiet growl rumble in her throat that would have turned to a full fledged warning if she had not been so unsettled by the accusing tone. "I don't see why it matters." She said in a low, threatening tone addressing his more firm words now. "They were asking for it, being out so late."

    His calm composure greatly annoyed her. Why had he been able to remain so calm, so still even after the human male had run away? Even now part of her wanted to go after it, see if she could still catch it while it was running back to safety- but that was nothing compared to the pull she had felt just moments before when she had been hunting him. And here comes mister unsettling smile, prancing in front of her like the blood on the ground wasn't catching his attention and the man running away couldn't interest him the slightest. How the hell did he do that?! Her wild fury could still be seen flashing behind dark brown eyes. Isabella took another step back when asked her name, not taking her eyes off the aged vampire for a minute and not understanding what he had called her. It sounded French. "Why do you care?" She snapped, hostile with him but uncertain if she would attack. A moment ago she was ready to, but now she was not so sure.

    The way he was staring at her, examining her set her off again. "Stop that!" Isabella snarled, taking a step forward and closing the distance she had been trailing back. She was unreasonably aggressive and hostile right now, she knew it very well but it felt right. This man was unwinding her already and had not even said more then a few insentiences. She sharply and painfully realised he had been the first one to talk to in almost half a year, the first one that she had not attacked or shrunk away from, the first one she had not been hunting. This realisation made her want to run away, but instead she took another step forward towards him. "Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it!"
    #5 Blue, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited: Sep 28, 2014
  6. The old vampire sighed gently. Now that was typical fledgling logic, there. That it was the humans own fault they got attacked for being out late at night. Attacked maybe, but killed...
    Marcel was growing weary of this game by now. He could dance with her all night, but if she wasn't willing to give even an inch they would be getting nowhere. Dawn would come eventually, there was no stopping that. She wasn't entirely wrong, though. Of course he could feel the heartbeats of the two men, even the one still running. He could smell the tang of blood in the area. The difference was, he found it all very mundane and somewhat boring. Humans ran for their lives all the time, as they feared death like no other creature on Earth. And Marcel was well-fed, one might even call him spoiled. Being Master vampire of Chicago came along with many benefits, including humans ready to open a vein for him just to say they had. Yes, some people were quite stupid that way. Being fed on was bragging rights, and being fed on by the local master was at the top of the list. But it meant Marcel had his pick of the litter, so to speak.

    He could see uncertainty running as an undercurrent to her state of mind, born of the unknown. She could not predict what he was going to do like she could a human, and it frightened her. She was a predator, and in a feral state of mind. The distance was closing between them, but Marcel still had not moved. He had his hands tucked behind him at the small of his back, and he simply watched her as she progressively inched closer to him. But it was time to draw this to an end. The night was no longer young and he had other things to attend to, though it seemed this one was too much for anyone else to handle, and he might have to deal with her further later on. He would worry about that when it came to it.

    Feeling her frustration in the air as she yelled at him yet again, he chuckled. "But you are just so intriguing." There was something going on in her mind that normally didn't happen to young vampires, not quite like this. It was similar to the issues one sees in a normal fledgling, but amplified somehow. He wondered who her maker was, and for that matter where her maker was. Usually the maker is responsible for their prodigies, but in this case dealing with the situation took priority over laying blame on her maker. In the blink of an eye he closed the distance between them, placing a hand on either side of her face and looking deeply into her eyes. She was tall, but he still surpassed her by about a head of height. Marcel was very tall, and appeared to be in his early thirties. His features were still young, but held an edge of maturity he had lacked in his youth. He was lithe rather than bulky, but not particularly thin. "Sshh," He hushed to her, but what he really was doing was trying to calm her mind. The rage in there was intense, but not very well directed. It had focused on him haphazardly, like an afterthought rather than on her own command. Power spread from his hands into her mind. The touch was capable of making a much stronger connection, though he hadn't needed it. He could do this same trick from afar, but he hadn't known how it would affect her, so he opted for the safe route and made the physical connection. He stared into her brown eyes with his grey ones, holding her rage as though in a bubble, separating it out from the rest of her mind. "Sleep," He whispered gently. "Daylight comes."

    Most strong vampires came with some kind of power. Marcel had the ability to manipulate emotions. It wouldn't always work perfectly, especially on those with very strong wills or convictions, but he could often tickle even the strongest of wills into feeling differently about something, or changing their mind on a matter. He needn't use it on vampires most of the time, since he was rarely challenged in strength due to his age. But everyone once in a while situations called for this power. He feared he might accidentally break a young vampire like this were she to attack him head on with all that built up rage and only him to direct it at. And Marcel didn't want to take that risk.
    #6 Tsimmu, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  7. "But you are just so intriguing." Alright, now she was sure she wanted to rip his throat out. Isabella growled at him still advancing with loud steps, she felt like she was being made a fool of by this man. What the hell did that even mean? Did he find this whole situation funny? She tried her best to look menacing, and to a human she probably would have simply because of her species which included long fangs and a predatory look. But to another vampire, little more then her attitude was threatening. She was tall, but definitely on the unhealthily thin side from her time spent on the streets. Or maybe that was just her body type. Thin wrists, long legs, every rib could be counted along her side and with the pale skin to complete it the only thing that really looked alive about her was the fire in her eyes. Either way, the thin jacket she wore helped cover this up and almost pulled her off as the threatening unstoppable force she wanted to be. Almost.

    He closed the distance unbelievably quick, and she would have reacted just as quick if he had not taken her by surprise. After all, the man had not moved an inch since she had come in contact with him, when he was standing uncomfortably close her breath caught and eyes widened with fear for just a second. Then it was back to a snarl, as Isabella reached a hand up to wrap it around his wrist with her nails digging in until his hands brushed the sides of her head.

    She didn't even realise what he was doing at first but was still a struggle to work with. Her confusing anger was so strong it had built up a wall pushing against reason, but a moment after his hushed whisper Isabella felt it tugged away leaving her hallow. She had been so furious for so long, even in the subsided days when she could do nothing but simply sit with her own mind as company. Confused from the first day she had woken up alone, from the first time she had attacked a person, furious at anything and everything she could be just to avoid feeling anything else. To avoid thinking of anything else. Her past life or how she had gotten like this or the scars that ripped across her back, it could all be easily lost to her if she let the feral monster inside her take over. Without all that built up anger she didn't know were to go, it left her empty and alone. Were did she go from here? Of the few vampires she had met all were very unfriendly and having not come in contact with anything else side from a wolf it seemed hopeless to try and find a place in the human world she didn't belong to any more. She hated this man, didn't even remember his name but hated him for forcing her to think about all this. For seeing past her anger. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair and yet Isabella knew now that she wasn't angry at him- he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Sleep? Oh she was tired, so tired of everything about this life and his words made her want to curl up and fade away into a deep sleep to avoid another day. That's all I want to do, sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at his smooth grey ones any more and let her head and shoulders drop with a choked sob. Isabella knew of course what she had done to all those people was wrong but there was still no regret. Was there? "That's all I know how to do," She hissed through clenched teeth, a sentience that would probably make no sense to anyone but herself least of all the man in front of her but she needed to say it. To reason with herself. She wanted to be angry again, anything but this. Tears formed and made there way down her cheeks, and she dug her nails into his wrist again for she had not let go. "I didn't ask for this!"
    #7 Blue, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited: Sep 28, 2014
  8. He hardly noticed that she had dug her nails into his wrist. She hadn't drawn blood the first time, but the second time small pinpricks appeared like dark red beads. He still didn't notice. Marcel was far too focused on his task. The connection did not require looking into her eyes, and when she closed hers he simply continued what he had been doing before. Tendrils of power had crept into her mind and brushed like fingertips, searching for something other than the fear that was now consuming her in place of the anger. "I know," He reassured, even if he did not know the exact significance of her words. Power had crept back into his voice with his last words, as he tried to soothe her, placing as much calm emotion and energy into her mind as he could. "But you are not alone now. I will not leave you." He felt hers tears rolling down her cheeks hit his hands, and brushed them away with a finger. She was definitely getting tired, he could feel it. She wanted to sleep, but she was still trying to hold onto any semblance of anger while he kept it away from her. He couldn't do it forever, but he could for tonight.

    Leaving the hand she still held on her face, he let the other stray down and hold her waist in an action of support, in case the urge to sleep finally became too much for her. He did not want her to fully collapse onto the ground, after all. She was significantly thinner than he had originally thought, he noticed as he held her waist. He hoped that by releasing her face partially he could help her feel less trapped, and instead like she was supported enough to finally let go and sleep. Finally he began to whisper directly into her ear, soft words in French. It did not matter that she didn't understand them. His power was more potent when spoken in his native tongue, and he continued, slowly soothing. In the back of his mind he was thankful he had been the one to find her after all. Anyone else would have injured her trying to get her under control, or would have gotten injured themselves.
    #8 Tsimmu, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  9. When he brushed the tears away Isabella flinched slightly, the physical contact would have made her more uncomfortable if she wasn't in such a state but at the moment she couldn't manage to pull away. In his light grip on her mind there was almost nothing besides the confusion and pain, her old self shoved away and hidden from this lifestyle so it wouldn't get hurt. While she had never been on the tame side... this was not her. That reckless carefree girl was weak, unable to make snap decisions or walk a yard without tripping over flat ground and had been replaced by a hard outer shell with a snarled bite. It was what she needed to be at the time. Now after six months of hushing her mind there was almost nothing left.

    His words weren't quite comforting as much as they were silencing, putting a stop to the thoughts pestering around for long enough to let her calm down. Her hand slipped from his wrist, there was more blood under her nails now and even though it was only a bit her fingers brushed a red trail down his forearm. The hand fell loosely at her side without strength to keep it up.

    What does the overseer of the town do? The thought stuck in her mind and she silently wondered if running into this vampire was more then coincidence. It would put more meaning to his words, was she in trouble? Isabella couldn't help but voice a question in response to his words a short time after they were spoken. "Were were you six months ago when this all started?" It was meant to come out rough as an accusation of sorts, but instead when it slipped out it was simply a hurt whisper. She didn't expect an answer, the question had been more for herself then him really. This man who's name she couldn't even hold on to was telling her he wouldn't leave, but she didn't want to believe him. That would mean trusting him, and that was out of the question no matter how soft or harmless he seemed to her at the moment. If he were to answer, she wouldn't pay attention to his words any more. At least, not any words but the smooth spoken ones beside her ear. Those ones caused Isabella to lean into the hand at her waist and rest her forehead against his collar bone, she was tall enough that the top of her head just brushed his chin. In just a moment she was leaning against him completely but it didn't carry much weight to support, her arms still limply at her sides. She gave a soft sigh letting herself be worked into an exhausted sleep.
  10. He did not bother to answer her soft question, though the fact that she had asked it at all intrigued him. The reason of course was due to the lack of skill his vampire 'muscle' had in trying to find her and subdue her. Marcel rarely took care of situations personally, he simply gave the orders of how they should be dealt with. Only a whisper of words continued into her ear, before he felt her finally break, her legs giving way beneath her. As he felt her give he very carefully swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Marcel just barely turned his head over his shoulder, not really looking but showing he knew someone was there. "Come. Take care of the young man there. Make sure he is fixed up and sent off with no recollection how he became injured or who helped him." In response to his demand, another vampire slunk out of the shadows where he had been standing and watching for only the past few moments. One of the vampire that had previously tried to find her. He had known to come, as his master had called out to him. The man in question had passed out long ago, but she hadn't punctured any major arteries and he would live despite losing a lot of blood. Without much concern for the rest of the situation, Marcel turned with the sleeping girl in his arms and began to head back to the club. Not wanting to draw a lot of attention to himself and the girl, he went in through the back which led straight to the basement.

    When the girl awoke, she would find that she was in a basement on a makeshift bed that sat against the back wall. She was beneath the club, but she would not hear anything taking place upstairs to tell her if it was currently night or day, as the basement was entirely soundproof. Her surroundings were simple enough, mostly concrete walls but well kept, painted a clean beige color and the floor a solid black. Were she to look around her she would see several doors leading to different rooms, while she resided in the main section of the basement. Electric lanterns sat on either side of each door, illuminating them. There were lights overhead that could brighten the entire room, but they were not currently on. Only one room was distinguishable from the others, with an elegant red carpet in front of it, but no light came from within. Behind that door was Marcel's room, but there was no telling if he was inside of it or not. Off to her left was the staircase the led to the nightclub above, but that was the only exit. There were no windows, and the door was made of reinforced steel.
    #10 Tsimmu, Sep 28, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  11. The first thing Isabella noticed when she woke was the position she was in, which in itself was an immediate cause for alarm even though she did not open her eyes. Her fuzzy mind came to quickly, knowing something was amiss. So used to sleeping sitting up against a wall curled up with her knees drawn in, lying down like this felt uncomfortable and above all else just strange. She didn't even allow herself to have a moment of thought before those all to familiar instincts kicked in and she was up, eyes flashing open and wide as she pushed herself up into a crouch on the bed. She scanned the room to see if she was alone and in any immediate danger, but open seeing nothing as a threat only then did the startled girl let herself think back.

    Remembering it all one piece at a time as it came to her Isabella closed her eyes. The actions of the night before, the strange man, her hunt... It stopped right before she fell asleep leaving her confused as to how she got here. Her mind felt scrambled, out of place but not as fearful of the situation as she probably should have been. Not yet any ways. Rather, more curious of how she got here and mentally awake. And in fact, she felt better then she had in a very long time. Physically of course after a well trouble free sleep but also mentally -even though her mind was slightly scattered- it felt as though a large weight had been lifted off of it. Isabella spent no more time thinking back as she pushed herself up and stepped off of her resting place. With pinched brows she assessed her situation now rather then wonder how she got here, already the dim lighting and blocked doors were making her uncomfortable. Wide eyes scanned again for any signs of company but there was nothing. Had she been expecting someone? Not really.

    She walked on her toes taking care not to make a sound and headed for the doors, placing her hand lightly on the one that stood out with a red carpet first. Since there was no light under it she assumed the door would be of no use to her and glanced over her shoulder at the stair case. It looked much more promising. As she moved over Isabella brushed her hair back and took of her jacket, tying it around her waist. It was something she did very rarely for without her jacket the girls shoulders were not completely covered, especially around the edge of her neck were thin pink scars started and could be seen by a careful eye. Without the jacket however, she felt less trapped in this large room. That was, of course, until she met the steel door blocking her exit on the stair case.

    Isabella placed a hand on the cold mental frame in slight confusion and shock, it took her a moment to register this door was a red flag. The strong cold steel was so out of place in the calm dim room and it was clear the thing was blocking some sort of exit. The feeling of being trapped smacked against her worse then a physical hand. Immediately is if ropes had wound themselves around her Isabella felt a tight grip of fear. She looked over her shoulder once, then again as her nails scraped against the door her eyes still wide and without another sensible thought she banged on it harshly but said no words. She ran back to the doors which blended in with the room more just a split second later, looking them all over before choosing the one with the red carpet and turning the handle to see if it was locked.
  12. The knob she tried to turn would not give for her, as the door was locked. Regardless, Marcel was not inside of it. She may have been panicking, but she was not to be alone for much longer. Marcel knew when she had awoken, and as she tried to open the door to his room the heavy metal door at the top of the staircase began to creak open, and just as quickly close. During that brief interval of movement, the noises of the club from overhead could be heard, the pounding of music heavy with bass and the chattering of patrons over their expensive drinks. Marcel had slipped inside and began his careful decent down the staircase. He was in no rush to corner this young vampire again, and after feeling inside of her mind as he had last night he guessed she was probably displeased with the confinement if she had already realized she could not get out. But really, that was not what this basement was designed for. As an afterthought, Marcel used it to contain problems until they could be dealt with, but originally the steel door and concrete walls had been a precaution against anyone else coming inside while the vampires residing down here slept, taking advantage of their weakened daytime state. It was sometimes a necessary measure, if a little extreme, but it was particularly useful for someone in a position such as Marcel's, where rivals of any kind might find the idea of killing him in his sleep very appealing.

    Once Marcel had reached the bottom of the staircase, he saw that she was at his door. He was not surprised that his had been the one she went to first. It was the one most frequently used, and the only door distinguished from the others by the small red carpet. The carpet had little use other than decoration - Marcel liked it, nothing more. He wondered how much of the previous night she could remember, but he could feel her tension in the air. He simply stood at the base of the staircase, watching her as he pushed on a light switch to brighten the whole room to them, not that they really needed it. It just made the place a little less mysterious. He spoke softly. "How has sleep treated you, ma cher?" Tonight he wore a simple black buttons up shirt, the long sleeves rolled up over his arms, and grey slacks over his polished dress shoes. He was semi-casual, a little undressed for his usual fair.
    #12 Tsimmu, Sep 29, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  13. When the lights flicked on Isabella swung around sharply looking quite like a startled animal, ready to take off. The light did not hurt her eyes as they immediately adjusted but it reflected off of her hair making a few loose strands shine. The man in front of her was familiar, wait no she was certain he was the one from the previous night. However unlike last night, she wasn't in quite a state upon seeing him. Calm was not quite the right word as her heart was still racing -so to speak- from the realisation of her confinement but the fact that he was down here brought the thought that maybe it was not quite a confinement as she had thought. That wasn't to say she was any less happy about it.

    "It was fine," Isabella said quietly, not dropping her gaze when she spoke but tugged at the sleeve of her shirt- a nervous habit. Her other hand found itself brushing a lock of red hair back over her shoulder, but quickly she was running her fingers through it again. Another habit, she hated keeping still but it seemed right now her posture was anything but loose. She didn't quite understand what he had called her, but it brought up memories from the previous night that made her brows furrow slightly. She wasn't sure weather or not to fear this man, if she should be worried or more upset. Certain he had given her a name but it was forgotten, Isabella refrained from addressing him in such a way that would require it. " What happened last night, my head...? Were am I? Can I go?" She wasn't sure what to do if he said no, but it definitely would not end well. Then again, why would he have reason to say no?
  14. "So many questions." He muttered quietly, his face holding a smile similar to the one last night, but not quite so predatory as before. Marcel did not expect her to take kindly to the idea of being kept here, but it was necessary. Either he was capable of civilizing her to the rules of their race, or he was expected to eliminate her. Either way, it took care of a very big problem. Most often, fledglings were given significantly more leniency in these cases. There was only so much one could expect from a young vampire in terms of control and common sense, while a more experienced vampire causing the same amount of trouble is usually just mentally unstable, and therefore incapable of being civilized. He spread his arms, choosing to ignore her direct questions for now.

    "Welcome to my humble abode." Even when he wasn't speaking French, his voice held on to the accent. The same grey eyes from the night before sparked mischievously at her, and he appeared as though he had fed recently, and well at that. He paid attention to every detail of her movement, all her little quirks and hand movements. They were giving him clues as to her current state of mind - she was not as high strung as the night before, and it showed. Perhaps the lack of humans, which she viewed in a very feral manner, was causing the change in attitude. Marcel folded his hands behind his back and looked her over quietly before taking a few steps closer, bringing himself to only a foot in front of her. "I informed you last night of my position. I am the Master vampire of Chicago, and am therefore responsible for the actions of all vampires within. Are you aware of why you are here?" His voice held a hint of authority this time, but his expression had not become terribly serious just yet.
    #14 Tsimmu, Sep 29, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  15. Isabella noticed the accent this time, as were last night it had slipped her mind some how and now she was certain the names he had been addressing her were French. For some reason the understanding made her feel a bit better, no one liked being confused but it especially made Isabella frustrated on the best of times and angry on the worst. Perhaps it was the need to know more then the lack of understanding. With his hands behind his back, eyes trailed on her Isabella tried to read the man's body language but it was significantly harder then doing so to a human. The smile, the simple gestures, the way he was standing. Nothing gave off an emotion or hint of what he was thinking. Even with the what she was sure was supposed to be a welcoming gesture as Marcel informed her were she was, Isabella was anything but comforted. Nice place, especially with the big steel door and the ominous lights. The bland black floored room was just about as welcoming as the man standing in front of her.

    Isabella stared back quietly with no intention of letting her sights trail elsewhere, not trusting him enough to do so- although that much was clear. She made no reply as the silence set in, oh god he was doing it again. Examining her. She had half a mind to growl at him but also had a feeling it would have no effect. He clearly wasn't intimidated and seemed to think he had the upper hand. Hmmph.

    Her lips parted slightly for a sharp intake as he approached and she stiffened considerably but did not back down. Instead she stood even taller, hands going confidently at her sides. Even at a foot away this was uncomfortably close, part of her wanted to take a step back but the stronger part insisted she stay and not give him the satisfaction. For now she was certain he was trying to intimidate her in some way or form and she wasn't going to let it show. "Master vampire..." Isabella repeated quietly as if she needed to say them herself before it clicked. There was no point in playing stupid once it did. "I am in trouble. Did I do something wrong? Wait no, don't answer that." She already knew the answer, her somewhat fake 'you don't scare me' attitude did not change, if anything she straitened out a bit more as if challenging him. "If you are responsible for the actions of others within this city then obviously I done something a miss to find myself in your... humble abode." She paused for a moment, but not long enough to let him reply as she wanted to get the question out on her mind and was not patient enough to wait. She took a step forward before speaking, her posture still and on the edge ready to draw back with a still slight wide look to her eyes. "Although if you wanted to set it strait by getting rid of me you would have already, so what are you going to do with me?"
  16. She was a fidgety one, that was for sure. His eyes followed her as she moved around, but he did not move much himself after placing himself before her. "Ah, now that is a good question." He said quietly, in reference to her last question asked. She had not given him enough leeway to respond to the others before now. His eye twitched, one of his few tells. He wasn't angry per say, but he was minorly frustrated that he didn't have a good answer to that question. Instead he tried a different approach. "You are young. As such, we like to assume that you do not know better." He paused, and blinked slowly. Sometimes he forgot to blink, making him seem eerily still in times when he was deep in thought. Small human nuances such as these had slipped away from him over time.

    Marcel was not convinced by her show of courage and stubbornness, though it did mean she had some hope of recovering from whatever strange issues plagued her. "Accidents happen, and young vampires will feed recklessly, but you are being quite wasteful. Last night, for example. You were content to bleed and toss away a perfectly fine young man without so much as a taste. And after having fed recently, no less." His eyelids seemed to half close, giving her a patiently chiding look. "Now why is that, m..." He paused mid-syllable as a thought came to mind, and closed his mouth slowly. He had just been about to refer to her as 'my dear' again, as he did to many, but the action caused him to realize he did not know her name. No one had been able to give him that information when he had first learned of the trouble she was causing. A grin came back to his face, and he suddenly switched gears to less formal conversation, lest he get too carried away. "Hm. Let's start with the basics, shall we? In case you don't remember, I am Marcel." Still he did not move, holding his hands behind his back loosely. "And what is your name?"
    #16 Tsimmu, Sep 30, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  17. Isabella felt like she was a child being scolded for her actions, a small red tinge creeped up to her cheeks as he recalled them of the night before, especially with the words recklessly and wasteful. It was most unusual for vampires to flush a different color even slightly, but there she was with the feeling of shame tapping on her mind. Of course she had never thought about it before, it was instinct to go after an easy target like that. At least, that what she had originally thought- that it was normal. However last night when Marcus had not gone after her target -leaving her deeply confused with his self control- and now as he was addressing the matter it made her come to the thought that perhaps her need to hunt was something of a trouble, out of the ordinary.

    But of course, how was she supposed to know that? She hadn't come into a real conversation with another vampire in the last six months, it wasn't as if someone had come up to here and handed her a greeting card along with a list of rules. Up until now the only thing she had been doing was what felt natural, she should hardly be in trouble for that. A scowl showed she was clearly upset with these thoughts that came to mind and would have addressed them right away if he had not asked her name. Hmm, Marcel. Here she was thinking it was Marius for some reason. Unfortunately, Isabella took a moment to reply to his very simple question. It wasn't as if she had forgotten her name, only that it hadn't been used or spoken in such a long time it almost felt unnatural to say it out loud. "Isabella." She said rather slowly, eyes losing his grey ones for just a moment to focus on the floor. She had always hated the name enough to demand nicknames from her friends and family, but now it seemed like a rare concept and a special one at that- the fact that she was being asked for it that was. "Isabella Strifer."

    Saying the name out loud as well as hearing his more casual tone all did a bit more to calm her down, and she met his eyes again slightly less worried about coming off as not intimidated and more focused on getting out what was on her mind. "I... I'm confused." She stated bluntly before continuing talking rather fast- then again she usually did. "I mean, I don't mean to go after them like that. Its like I said, they were asking for it and they just caught my attention. I just... I didn't even need to feed, I just went after them because I wanted to. Wait, no I mean I needed to. I mean, I can't really help it... But I'm not out of control." She added the last part hastily as an after thought and searched his eyes, perhaps letting a little bit of the fear and nerves show through her fake confidence. "How come you were different? Its like you didn't even care, I couldn't take my eyes off of the running one and then you... you just pushed him aside. Like you didn't even care! How did you do that?" Quickly her tone had turned sharp, aggressive, and accusing but as soon as the last words left her mouth Isabellas eyes widened and she shrunk back both physically and emotionally, realising the sharp turn her tone had taken. "I'm sorry..." She whispered, biting her lip and dropping her eyes from his own.
  18. Something certainly changed in her mannerisms when she finally answered him with her name. It had taken time, as though considering why she should need to do such a thing, and his smile broadened at her admittance and shy glance at the floor. "Isabella... it's a lovely name."

    Marcel was encouraged when he noticed her careful facade breaking down. This was the best sign he could have gotten that there was still hope for this feral young vampire. He had made the correct choice in not having her killed outright. In general, her confidence was a good thing; it was the kind of trait that kept vampires alive for as long as Marcel. And Marcel had been around for a very long time. Her admittance of her confusion was also a good sign. He could have guessed by her earlier questions that she was confused. Clearly, something had happened after her transformation that had removed or destroyed her maker. Perhaps another young reckless vampire had made her and simply run off in a panic. There was no telling for sure without doing some serious hunting around, but what he did know was that cases like this were not completely unheard of. Rare, yes, but not entirely impossible.

    Marcel took each question in turn, trying to make sure that he didn't miss anything important that she should know. He still stood rigidly in front of her, and realized she probably had more human mannerisms than he did. A hand finally appeared from behind his back, and he gestured lightly towards the door she had been trying to open earlier, the one that led to his room. "Come. We can talk in comfort. I will try my best to answer your questions." He moved silently then across the floor with practiced steps until he came to the lonely carpeted spot. He did not have a key, but when he touched the doorknob it clicked open, and he entered. What she would find inside was entirely different from the rest of the basement.

    The inside of Marcel's room was entirely lavish. Having grown up in a very poor family, he decidedly enjoyed luxury, and a part of him missed France dearly. The entire room had an old feel to it, similar to the bar upstairs. One large area carpet covered the floor from wall to wall, red and black with intricate designs. Though it seemed lavish, it was actually fairly generic, designed specifically in case any blood were to be spilled on it. Should something permanently damage it, it could be easily removed and replaced, unlike normal carpeting. A sizable chunk of concrete had been taken out of one wall to accommodate a fake fireplace. It did not particularly give off any heat, but it appeared as though it was a real fire, adding mood and comfort to the room. Before the fireplace were two arm chairs, and beside that a king-sized four-poster bed with deep maroon colored curtains draped around it to obscure anyone that might be sleeping in it. Those curtains were currently half down at the moment, showing a bed that was fully adorned in black - black sheets, black pillows, black comforter. There wasn't much else to this room, except that three out of four walls were completely obscured by bookshelves, like a private library.

    Marcel glided across the carpeted floor and planted himself into one of the armchairs, inviting her to join him in the other one before the fireplace. It snapped and popped like a real fire, but gave off no smoke. Marcel simply loved modern technology.

    "You do not need to be sorry for feeling the way you did. It is natural for us to consider humans prey and want to go after them. But most vampire will not. I am not special particularly in that regard." He gave her a gentle look, hoping she understood what he meant. "It is simply a matter of control. I used to feel the urge just as you do now, but age has brought me tot he point of dismissal for most things." What Marcel probably really meant was that for him it was boring, just a trifle that he didn't even pick up on because he had lived for so long and seen or experienced so much. "However, most only have this urge when they are hungry." He gave her a calculating look, as though he could glean the information himself if he tried hard enough, but he knew he could not. Now was he sure she could answer this question for him, but he would ask anyway. His question and tone were blunt. "How long have you been dead, Isabella?"
    #18 Tsimmu, Oct 1, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014
  19. He didn't seem upset or angered by her outburst, so Isabella let out something of a soft sigh and looked towards the door when he gestured. She looked back at him slightly confused until he spoke. The promise of having her questions finally answered was such an incredible relief on her mind and it showed. Her eyes lit up slightly, she relaxed a bit more and allowed herself to breath normally rather then in hushed breaths. Months of asking questions to herself with no one to answer them could drive a person insane- well it already had slightly. And with the night before her wonders had at least doubled to the point were she wasn't even sure he would be able to answer them all without getting overwhelmed. When Marcel simply turned the nob with a click, Isabella scowled knowing for sure she had tried to open the door and it had been locked. Still, she didn't question it but instead followed him into the room just a few paces behind.

    The lavish décor of the room nowhere near impressed Isabella as much as it fascinated her. Forgetting about the man that had settled himself in an arm chair beside the electric fire she stood in the middle of the room for a moment and looked around. Not a word brushed past her lips and she didn't glance at Marcel before going to one of the book shelves. She touched noting, but read a few tittles and walked along it, quick steps as she skimmed along the book shelf. It had been so long since she had seen such a grand array of books, most of them didn't interest her upon just reading the titles but she smiled at them regardless. It was the first real smile in a while small as it may have been. They reminded her of home, although the memories were feint the library had always been her favourite room just for the silence it held and the scent of old books. She had grown up in something of a more wealthy family, a large house with pretty rooms but that was the only one she missed. A crack caught her attention from the fireplace and she stared at it for a moment with furrowed brows, and then to Marcel as if just remembering he was there. A short second after that she made her way over to the inviting chair and sat upon it, crossing her legs and gave no explanation for his behaviour but looked at him eagerly.

    Control. Isabella scowled and chewed the inside of her cheek as he talked. She had self control of course, she could be somewhat civilised as shown right now just not when it came to hunting. It was like a trigger. Even though he answered a few questions in her head, it also brought at least a million others to mind and she wanted to ask each and every one of them not really paying attention to his expressions as he spoke- just the words. However before she could pebble him with more of her curiosities he asked a question that caught her off guard. "Dead?" Isabella repeated quietly and thought about it for a moment. Time was a rough concept with her, for certain reasons but she might as well just be blunt as he had been. "I think its been around six months, but for the first little while I didn't really keep track. I live on the streets, and I was in a lot of pain so the first little while was a bit... num." Her back tingled unpleasantly with the thought. Oh yes, she had woken up in a lot of pain and confusion finding herself alone- but assumed it was normal? Of course now that the question came to mind she had to ask it. "There was no one there when I came to, I was just alone in a place I didn't recognise with my back ripped up. I just figured it out from there. You say your the... head vampire, is there supposed to be some sort of..." She hadn't thought her words out first and was having a hard time figuring them out. "Someone to help new... vampires out?" The word was dull as if she didn't find any particular taste in it, but didn't skip a beat looking from the fireplace to him as she spoke, demanding answers he seemed able to give. " How does one get created? I don't even remember being attacked."
  20. The older vampire watched the fire, just listening to her movements around the room. He wasn't surprised that it had caught her off guard, after being in the dreary main room of the basement. Marcel did not spend as much time down here in his room as he might have liked other than during the day, but he did have a business to run. He could tell she was most interested in the books, but did not say anything. The shelves were almost constantly being recycled with new books, but there were a few favorites here and there that never left the room.

    Marcel was surprised to hear that her back had been ripped apart when she awoke from her transformation, but the only indication of his surprise was a slight quirk to his eyebrow. That information in itself was unusual, since turning a vampire was usually a very clean and deliberate act. Marcel had sobered a bit in temperament, no longer smiling as of right now. He had realized with an unpleasant jolt that she was very young indeed, and for a moment he felt pity for her. To wake up dead, with no one there to guide you into the new world you'd been thrust into... that was a terrible thought indeed. It just goes to show how much one can become uncivilized in such a short time.

    Marcel leaned back into his chair, settling in, and folded his hands into his lap with his elbows on the arm rests. Her hesitance at using the word vampire was a little strange, but again she had not had any guidance since becoming one. He couldn't expect her to know anything in particular about what she was and how she got that way. Marcel was careful to consider each of her questions before responding to any of them. "I am the Master vampire of this region, yes. But it only means that I am unequaled in power here, and must keep all members of this community under control." There was a lot more to that title, but he did not think it was necessary to go into all of the details with her. At least not right now. He paused, trying to find the best words to answer her next question clearly. "When a vampire is created, it is usually deliberate. It is difficult for a vampire to be made by accident." He tried to sound unconcerned, keeping any hint of emotion out of his voice. "The one who creates you is your maker. Creation of a vampire involves an exchange of blood. A vampire that becomes a maker is expected to educate their fledglings, they are responsible for you."
    #20 Tsimmu, Oct 1, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 19, 2014