Peter
His senses poured outwards like a tidal wave, crashing over every object in his part. Birds chirped miles away, the scent of a fresh kill downwind- further away still, winds touched his skin and gave him an understanding of what all was around him even as he moved at speeds beyond normalcy. These senses, reflexes and skill are what make Tarin Vo- *The Flaw Of The World*- a perfect hunter. And the hunter has found his pray and their chase is leaving him wanting- they don't move like he does.

"*Faster...*" He willed his body to move faster, using his ironlike muscles to push himself faster and further beyond the limitations his magicless state has left him in. He cannot simply fly to his target, teleport after them, enhance his body to push beyond- no, he has trained every muscle and every fiber in his body to become beyond even magic...

*But even then it wasn't enough.*

** **
His mind drew back, even as he raced after his target, to the time he was so close to death he has to make the deal once again. It wasn't like the time he had to invoke that bond like he had with Noctis, it wasn't a draw or even a victory, for when he made that deal again kneeling at the feet of Eliza he had been beaten. So why, even if he had been spared, does he rush to her aid? He does not know. Something within his heart spoke to him when he caught wind of the killer who took a bounty with a name he recognized days ago. The name of a vampire he has faced before- and he saw that the killer headed to face her down was not one to be taken lightly. He smelled the poisons lacing his weapons, and held within his satchel. He'd seen the holy iconography adorning the man's armor and he could sense the presence of magic most holy swirling around the mace they wore. A paladin was headed after Eliza, one prepared to fight a vampire unlike he'd been... So he'd trailed them. Listened to their private conversations from his hiding places in trees of hundreds of yards away as they received more and more messages. This was a calculated attack, no mere chance, this killer was sent on *Purpose-* So he acted.

"*You're almost there, be ready, don't let emotion cloud your mind like before- do not lose your edge. You're a killer first and foremost, act like it- __be__ like it.*"

His own mental reassurance was all he had to offer himself as he finally drew closer to the Paladin- he could see the peaks of the manor above the treeline now- he'd have to act fast or he'd be late. He thought of what he possibly could do, what his options are at this moment- and then it struck him, an elaborate plan this paladin would not be ready for.

** **
Drawing on his killer instinct, the years upon years of battle he has faced and acted upon that wisdom. Drawing his staff from the holster on his back he held it firmly as he drew his sword laced with powerful wind magics- with a powerful leap into the air the mercenary swung his blade behind him and used its wind magic to propel him further- *Faster.* As he drew closer he willed his staff to grow in size, the magical item within his hands responded and launched outwards as it grew longer. He saw the glint of armor in the setting sunlight- the time was now. He smashed the end of his staff in the ground, using its sturdiness to apply pressure with his strength and bend his staff to the point it nearly broke before he let it go- and it threw him like a human missile.

His reflexes saved him in the end, his fist crashing against the shield of the Paladin- splintering it into metallic shrapnel as he blew past. He dug his heels into the ground, clawed at the dirt until he gained traction and then he swung again- another fist smashing into the armor of the Paladin which tore off his right pauldron and helmet.

"***I told you that I'd find you-***" Another blow, peeling away the chest plate of the Paladin who cried out in pain from the onslaught. "***-and that you would die before you even saw her.***"

** **
Another blow landed, the arm of the Paladin handing limp and bloodied at his side while Tarin vanished from sight only to reappear infront of the Paladin with his body poised to strike. One punch was thrown, connecting with the exposed chest of the vampire slayer, gore and viscera splatted across tree and dirt alike. The body dropped with a thud while Tarin dropped to a knee and breathed heavily, blood both the paladins and his own littered his body while he clutched at the wound at his right bicep.

"***Fuck.***" He grimaced as he looked up at the Tenebrian manor from only a few yards away, knowing full well that if someone saw him- even Eliza, he might have to run for his life.
Stacia
It was a typical day at the Tenebrian manor, being the majority of the residents were vampires the property was rather quiet. Birds sang blissful melodies that echoed through the trees and filled the eerie woods with joyous song. 

Luciel, being one of the only non nocturnal residents was reading a novel in a nearby tree. The sun kissed his undead skin gently, causing his porcelain skin to almost glisten in the sunlight- seemingly unaffected by the sun despite his undead origin. The day walker licked his index finger to turn the page of his book before smelling the familiar scent of blood. Luciel's eyes rolled back in his skull for a moment as he reveled in the unholy aroma before collecting himself and raising a brow at the distant sight of Tarin. Even stranger, it seemed *He* Was injured himself. Luciel groaned as his eyes panned over to the splattered gore on the tree, just another mess for him to clean up- albeit for once not caused by his wretched sister. The lanky man then dropped down from the tree landing in a stylish pose before smirking to himself and making his way over to Tarin, tapping his shoulder from behind whilst simultaneously clearing his throat. 

"You're a few months early, the next ball isn't until-"

Luciel then noticed the apparel of the corpse, his eyes peering at his holy idols and tools used to slaughter his kind- likely with the intent of slaughtering his *Family*. The man's expression then shifted to one of dire seriousness before walking a few paces ahead of Tarin and pausing to look over his shoulder.

"I think it's best you come inside, explain to mother why it is you brought a dead heretic to our porch. She might even shake your hand."

Luciel chuckled to himself before motioning Tarin to follow him towards the manor.

"Though do tell me where you found such a creature. They haven't been brave enough to step foot on our lands for decades"
Peter
The cursed man remained in his knelt position, breathing heavily in rapid succession while his body dealt with the effects of the poisons by sweating profusely- if not for his training thanks to his parents he'd be dead at this very moment- which put a massive strain on his already battered and tired body. Even as Luciel approached Tarin sensed him, vampires carry a smell all their own, and once the son of Eliza spoke to him the mercenary waited for him to see what was laid bare.

"***Didn't bring him... Tracked him.***" Tarin struggled to breathe as he stood up, his body now dripping with sweat while he fought off the poisons that coated the now dead paladins weaponry. He would be fine in time, hopefully, but for the moment he looks worse for ware.

"***He picked up a... A uh, bounty, a bounty for Eliza down in Vaelic City... Bounty on Eliza. I went after him when I read her name... Figured I owed her that much after she... She spared my life. Didn't help I could see the... All the uh, the vampire killing stuff he had ready.***"

Smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand a few times Tarin seemed to be either jumbling or restarting his mind- perhaps the battle or the poison has done a number on him, maybe both. Despite that he followed Luciel, be it that he was actually led inside or kept outside he didn't know nor care, he just hopes he'll get to leave and sweat off this poison or find a cure poison potion or spell- anything would do.
Stacia
Luciel raised a brow suspiciously as Tarin mentioned the hit on his mother. His typical carefree and sassy demeanor dropping to one of concern once he realized the gravity of the situation. The Tenebrian's have maintained a pristine reputation among Aeterna for years, a hit on Eliza is unheard of. 

"Well, *Ahem* Wow... L-let's just get you inside. You look awful- and that thing reaks-"

Though Luciel was concerned, his bratty attitude remained as he referenced the stinking corpse of the vampire hunter. The vampire sighed as he gentle guided Tarin to the doorstep of the manor.

Once at the doorstep of the lavish home Luciel opened his palm swiftly, a beautifully crafted ornate wand rising out of his forearm and landing into his palm. The boy then swished the wand gracefully, the doors swinging open dramatically as he frantically led the man inside.
Geneva
Eliza sat in the library with a bottle of wine in one hand and a book in the other enjoying an early afternoon read when she heard the front doors swing open loudly. Intrigued the countess swiftly made her way to the main hall of her room, surprised to see her dear son accompanied by Tarin, and a corpse? 

The woman shuffled towards the group, placing a hand on Tarin's forehead and cringing at the intense heat radiating from his skin. Surely he was sick or poisoned, though humans were dreadfully warm they weren't *This* Warm. 

"If it isn't Tarin, and you look..."

Eliza then cleared her throat politely.

"Tired! How about we get you to to the lab and in the meantime you inform me on why you've brought a freshly slaughtered pig into my manor?"
Peter
"***Ye- yeah, I know, thanks.***" Tarin grumbled as he followed along, despite his physical appearance he's not too upset about his situation, he's dealt with far worse situations- he just hopes he can either get the poison solved or he can have a place to rest so he can sweat this out. Approaching the door with his breath beginning to grow ragged the mercenary's vision became blurry for a split second.

"*Thank fuck...*" Stepping into the manor the flaw of the world was slightly relived when he saw the visage of Eliza approaching. It was comforting to see her in a way, someone he knows to a degree, a woman who can handle herself and likely has some ways to help him with his situation. 

"***Raggedy, I know.***" Tarin chuckled when he saw the prim and pristine vampire cringe at the heat from his forehead... She was icecold, soft too, which after the defeat he suffered at her hands was a slightly humbling revelation.

"***Sounds nice... Yeah he's a-***" A loud cough, blood speckled the hand he used to cover his mouth. "***Fuck.***" The flaw of the world felt his body take charge trying to solve his problems, his swearing increasing to the point he was practically dripping.

"***Vampire killer-*** *Wheeze* ***-picked up bounty-*** *Wheeze* ***-for your head Eliza-*** *Wheeze* ***-figured I owe'd you... Poison knife-*** *Wheeze* ***-got me, need help... Please...***"

His voice grew hoarse and ragged with each word he spoke out, his vision grew blurry and his legs felt weak, and as he dropped to a knee and seemed close to passing out completely a strange black tattoo- with a long thick line with sharp spines all around its edges -that started from behind his left year soon grew to reach down past his neck and shoulder.
Geneva
Eliza, though concerned for Tarin's wellbeing showed no signs of distress or urgency as she strolled away from him whilst he spoke. Nodding attentively as he gave her the details of the bounty before opening a cabinet and gently snatching a few glass vials containing various herbs and liquids. The countess then grabbed a mortar and pestle and placed it on the table, opening each vial and placing a calculated amount of each herb before grinding the mixture into a paste. 

"Tough boy. Handling all those poisons, you know it's funny- they mustn't be too informed to wield *Poison* Against me."

Eliza smiled to herself proudly as she spoke, her expression fading to one of empathy as she glanced down to Tarin. She sighed before kneeling beside him with the bowl of medicine in her left hand. Eliza then raised her arm above the mixture as her index finger melted into deep crimson blood that dropped into the paste- causing a black cloud of smoke to rise from the bowl for only a moment. Using her free hand Eliza tilted Tarin's chin upwards with gentle yet assertive force. 

"Drink, It's not the tastiest thing ever but you won't die."

After Tarin finished drinking the medicine Eliza sighed, turning her back to the man.

"I think it's best you follow me upstairs, Cursed One. We have *Much* To discuss hm?" 

After speaking Eliza turned and walked past Tarin, pausing once a few paces ahead of him before clearing her throat impatiently.
Peter
"***Agreed... They seemed informed enough, atleast that you're a-***" Loud cough, more blood speckling his hand. "***-vampire. Holy symbols and magic as well as light magic, the works.***"

Tarin didn't make mention about what she said at the start, instead focusing on the mission and or directive at hand- because, why would he bother? Eliza is a vampire he fought and lost to, mother to a child he tried to kill, he's honestly surprised his neck wasn't torn out already- best to keep on guard.

"***Drinking- drinking-***" Hastily he replied before gulping down the mixture, smacking his lips while giving a slight groan afterwards. "***Delicious.***"

His usual antics of humor despite a life or death situation, his coping method perfected over a lifetime. He rubbed his chin for a moment, his hyper sensitive skin still grasping at the feeling of Eliza's hand on him- one of the drawbacks of being so attuned, even the slightest touch can linger for hours.

"***You're the boss and it's probably best to listen to the queen bee in her own hive.***" Tarin turned to follow Eliza, only pausing for a moment to look down at his blood speckled hand- and then he saw it, finally. "*No... Not now.*" He quickly dismissed his thoughts with a flick of his head. "***Yeah yeah I'm coming, don't get your puffy dress in a knot.***"

Knowing better than to dally the cursed man followed close behind Eliza, pondering and puzzling over this situation and circumstance- despite all of what's happened before she willingly began to aid him without so much as a second thought... And her children don't seem to hate her but instead love and cherish her, in their own ways anyway. Perhaps he was too hasty to judge, maybe he isn't as good at reading people as he once was- or maybe, just maybe, he guessed wrong.
Geneva
As Eliza walked up the steps she pondered *How* Exactly her affliction became known by anyone but her family and business associates. Perhaps she was too hasty allowing Luciel to attend the Academy, allowing Alvyra to leave the manor grounds. Her mind raced through possible scenarios, Luciel telling school friends, Alvyra well... Being Alvyra. The more she ran it over in her mind the more it confused her, she had isolated herself from society for centuries. Typically she would only leave for a meal or for business and even when she did she was rarely gone longer than a few hours. Having found no conclusion in her mind Eliza let out a defeated sigh.

Once the pair reached the top of the admittedly *Long* Staircase they were face to face with a large door with a strange sigil and no visible mechanisms allowing for it to even open. Though plenty of footsteps and chatter could be faintly heard from the other side. 

Eliza then raised her right hand into the air, the flesh of her hand melting away to reveal a clear skeletal hand. The countess flourished her fingers in a rigid, unnatural motion before moving her hand towards her left hand and clawing her own flesh open. Eliza then walked a few steps to the left where a ornate chalice laid atop a pedestal. The vampire allowed her ichor to drain into the chalice until it was filled to the brim. Eliza then walked back beside Tarin, and softly muttered the phrase.

"Sanguis noster sit transitus"

After a moment of silence the ground would rumble and the blood filling the chalice would spiral through the air and fill the cracks that made the strange sigil on the door before the door itself melted away into a puddle of blood. 

Now the *True* Manor was on full display, endless corridors filled with paintings of Eliza and a small cat all with dates. Most notably though would be a painting depicting a pale young girl and the same very cat, her expression was one of childlike wonder and curiosity. 

Pale woman clad in maid outfits a

Nd fine fabrics roamed the halls, all of which stopping in place to stare at their mother and the strange man. Though a discerning eye would see small girl with obnoxiously long hair and a jagged smile peeking at the pair from around a corner. 

"Just this way, forgive the girls. It's not often I bring visitors, let alone a..."

Eliza looked Tarin up and down, struggling to find an appropriate term.

"Warmblood." *Ahem* "Follow"

Eliza's cheeks if capable, would be flushed red with embarrassment as she grabbed Tarin's hand and dragged him into a nearby room and locking the door behind him.

The room was one of the countless vacant guest rooms in the manor with a beautiful queen sized coffin with silver linings and a plush red interior. The room also had a gothic vanity accompanied by countless beauty products and a hairbrush. Like the dining room, the bedroom had a red crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling. 

Eliza then took a deep breath and a step forward, gasping as she realized her hand was still grasping onto Tarin's. With a flustered look on her face she yanked her hand from his and walked towards the vanity, sitting in the chair and removing her earrings. 

"Anything else I should know about the swine you dragged into my home before *I* Start asking questions?"
Peter
"***Neat door.***" Tarin chirped almost comically once the two reached the top of the staircase, his mind had been relatively blank the whole time after he'd follow behind Eliza- had it been? It felt like it anyway, like nothing would connect for s second- nothing would focus. There was so much, too much even, so all he could manage was to say something stupid. "***Sounds like people are on the other side, do you have a secret stash of vampires behind a locked door? I remember this being a no fly zone during the ball s-***"

His eyes widened, finally snapping back to reality once Eliza began to claw at her own hand after the flesh melted off the other.

"*God* ***I'm glad I don't have to use magic, sheesh.***"

It was jarring each and everytime, even for someone like him who's been around death for as long as he's drawn breath, seeing a persons own flesh slide off the bone and then tear off the other hands flesh is- it's a lot.

"***You have to do*** *That* ***Everytime you want to open this thing? I can't say it's not an effective way to keep people out but*** *Ouch.* ***Atleast you can regenera-***"

** **
As the door became part of the puddle of blood Tarin's eyes grew wide once he saw what was before him. The paintings, the endless corridors, and vampire women in either fine clothes or maidoutfits- and what looks like a very mischievous and also terrifying little vampire demon child peeking around the corner.

"***Man?***" He didn't even look at Eliza when he said it, still somewhat reeling from everything he saw at once, and once he realized what he said he tore his gaze over to Eliza and cracked a very sorry excuse for a apologetic grin- and then her hand touched his.

It was so jarring- or it should be? Normally when someone touches him it feels like his skin is on fire from the sensation, his supremely enhanced senses are often overlooked in a practical and everyday setting where the touch of a hand feels like knives to the skin of one who can feel the air pressure around him change. If he always hated that feeling, kept others from touching him, actively told people to never touch him- then why does this time feel so... Ok? Eliza's hand isn't warm, which would feel like holding a sword fresh from the forge, her hand is cold- cold as death itself. Cold has never bothered Tarin, in fact he somewhat enjoys the biting cold he feels at the slightest gentle breeze of cool air- it reminds him of Forstead, of winters and drifting snow, the peace the snow dusted forests bring him- why does she remind him of peace?

The revelation was to jarring to Tarin he didn't even notice when Eliza yanked her hand away with a flustered look. He just stared at his own hand, fingers unfurled as if holding something within them, and slowly they closed until his fist clenched with such strength he could have turned coal into diamond had Eliza not spoke up.

** **
"***Uh- yeah, here. Does this name mean anything to you?***" Tarin brushed aside what he has just done and took a step closer to Eliza as he pulled a crumpled sheet of parchment from his pocket and laid it flat on the vanity- a bounty for Eliza Tenebrian with the words "*Bounty issued by Jamis Merkoin.*" Fully shown at the bottom.
Geneva
Eliza placed her earrings, a pair of beautiful red crystal studs with dangling gemstones into a small box- not without admiring them for a moment. Her expression seemed sorrowful as she examined the jewels but she was smiling as if reminiscing on a fond memory. 

Eliza cleared her throat before adverting her attention towards Tarin. Her large ruby red eyes dancing towards him gently, her long dark lashes like curtains that bounced with each blink of her eye. Her lips parted in shock as Tarin handed her the piece of paper as she pulled her gaze away from him and to the paper... To the name.

Eliza quickly snatched the paper from Tarin's hands, standing up from her vanity and raising her left hand to cover her mouth in shock as a gasp escaped her lips. Eliza's eyes watered for a moment, her face flooding with sadness and fear as she scanned the details of the bounty. Though after a few moments her sadness transformed into anger as her brows furrowed and her nose scrunched. A single red tear fell from her left eye, trickling over the beauty mark below her eyes and down her smooth cheek as she crushed the paper in her hand and threw it aside with a animalistic grunt. 

Eliza turned her back to Tarin, composing herself with a deep breath, pausing for a moment before exhaling. She then turned around to face Tarin, her eyes wide with fury though her lips curved upward into a polite smile. 

"Do you know how my kind came to be, Tarin?"

Eliza walked towards the man as she spoke, her long ivory fangs peeking through her plush lips with each syllable she uttered. 

"Long ago, there was a demigod of Ember named Abbadon. They say he was the most beautiful of his mothers spawn, the most creative, the most arrogant..."

Eliza was now face to face with Tarin, her expression blank and void of any emotion.

"He was a sick godspawn, obsessed with power and keen on proving himself a *God* Like his mother. He even desecrated one of her temples into the likes of his own, defiling it. Furiou

S his mother cursed him to never feel her loving rays, to forever live off the blood of others. He was a creature, dead but alive."

Eliza sighed before turning away from Tarin, seemingly out of embarrassment.

"For centuries the fool wandered Aeterna, using his once god given gifts to transform his very being with demonic energy from the beyond lands and making himself the first pureblood vampire. With his new power he grew a following *Ahem* A cult consisting of seven families, the Merkoin's being some of his most loyal- sworn to find a way to allow him to roam the day, to once again bask in the rays of his holy mother. He feared my bloodline and our ability to roam the day among humans, looked down upon our merciful lifestyle. And so he had us killed after centuries of begrudge loyalty."

Eliza strolled over towards the window which was shut tightly as not to let any sunlight in, opening the curtain slightly as rays of light fell upon her porcelain skin. Eliza then raised her arms and untied her hair which was in a loose but intricate bun, allowing her wavy dark hair to fall gently onto her shoulders and back. She then looked over at tarin, her red eyes molten pools of ruby as the sun kissed them. 

"I and eventually- my son are all that remain. I saw to it the other families stood out of my way after I rebuilt my families empire... But this hit changes things. I think my cousins need a little visit, I need more information before I move my hand,"
Peter
While he watched Eliza admire and reminisce while holding her earrings the mercenary found himself caught up staring, simply transfixed on her face. Her skin as smooth as the kiss of moonlight, ruby red eyes harboring more emotion and memory than vast libraries would even dare. Even when she turned to face him he didn't look away, he was too fixated on studying every part of her face that he didn't much notice he was staring. She is simply too...

"***B-***" The paper being snatched from his hand and her suddenly standing while gasping caught the cursed man off guard, he'd half expected her to not recognize or care for the name but *That* Reaction got to him. Enough for him to take a step back while pulling his hand away out of reflex. "***Boundaries much? Sheesh.***"

Crossing his arms Tarin saw fit to wait and watch, perhaps she would shed some light on the question he'd asked her soon enough. Yet when he saw her expression change, sadness and fear coupled with watering eyes- it cannot be denied that he felt a sense of protectiveness for a moment. A split second desire to see her, someone who he can respect as both person and former adversary, not in such a state as this- she didn't deserve to shed a tear.

** **
"*Oh no it's an angry blood tear, nevermind.*" He conversed with himself mentally as he saw her expression form into one of anger. Even as she turned her back and then faced him he had not moved, arms crossed with a look of both curiosity and concern blatant on his face.

"***Old legends, stories and theories, but I doubt I know the true story.***" Admittedly he had no clue, he'd heard all the usual fluff stories and legends told by parent to child or around a campfire but he knows that the truth is never as simple as it seems in this world. Hung on every word as Eliza spoke to him Tarin found himself slightly nervous as she drew closer, hopefully this story doesn't involve more bodily injury like her magic did, but once she turned away he found himself longing for a split second.

"***A demigod who's divinity got to his head, punished for his sacrilege and eventually became the first pure blooded vampire and then formed the pure blood families... Intriguing to say the least.***" He understood now, to a basic degree anyway, how vampires have come to be- and now he understands what this was all about, the families are striking out again and likely under papa vamp's orders.

Watching her undo her hair the mercenary found himself transfixed once again, dark flowing hair, sun kissed eyes of red malice and skin porcelain white. The allure of vampires truly is no lie, fiction or old wives tale. Be that as it may Tarin knows such things shouldn't matter to him, they have no reason to, and as such he should focus on what's important- repaying a blood debt.

"***If you need information, I can get it. If you need vampires killed, I can do it. I owe you, twice now infact, and I'm ready to repay that debt in whatever way you see fit. As it stands your family has been attacked once again- act too risky and it'll all come crumbling down- but with a master assassin, hunter and killer at your beck and call... You might not even have to lift a finger.***"