Blood & Water (Kouen & MrThorne)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: MrThorne on 16-12-2016, 01:55:26</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>16-12-2016, 01:55:26</strong>
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				The Knox Conservatory was not quite a highlight of the Boston art scene. It was famous certainly, and well known for the quality of art exhibitions and musical performances it hosted, but it was also an unusually private gallery, with only a few days out of given month that it was open to the public. Mostly, the ancient and proud instituation concerned itself with private exhibitions and galas, rather than entertainment for the common man. Some would doubtless argue that such and attitude seemed at odd's with the often light and expressive nature of art, but the curator of the Conservatory had his reasons for why he ran the institution as he did.<br><br>Sometimes other factors took precedence over free expression, and maintaining a comfortable Elysium for his kind was among them. In truth the conservatory was far more than a mere art museum, it provided shelter and comfort the Camarilla in the city. That was the goal that held primacy for the Ventrue ancilla, and the reason he worked so very hard to maintain the institution he had founded some two hundred years before. The conservatory was his legacy to the community, and one he held in the highest regard. To this end he had held the curator's position under numerous guises across a several lifespans.<br><br>In this time his office had changed supremely little. A man of the sea in his mortal youth, he had long abstained from the material trimmings that might otherwise have come with his wealth and age. Instead his office was clean and almost spartan, with only the odd few mementos dedicated to his time spent there. The desk was one of these, a large and monolith structure as old as the building itself. It was constructed, appropriately enough, from the hull of the director's first ship. The timbers of that now long lost vessel had been carefully hewn from the hull, and reshaped into a stately if rather heavy desk. The desk itself was neatly organized, with papers neatly stacked in it's box, and a large blotter and fountain pen neatly laid out for handy use. A small laptop and light were the only concessions to the modern era, though both were of elegant and expensive style.<br><br>The director himself was tall and lean, with a muscular form and timeless features. His scalp and chin were both hairless, with only high arching eyebrows to contrast his pale features. His eyes were a cool blue, verging into the gray, but startling in their intensity. He was dressed finely, as befitted the formal occasion he was preparing for. The tuxedo he wore fit him as a second skin, hand tailored to his slim frame. It's creases were of a military precision, befitting his careful nature. His stance was military too, almost a parade rest even as he stood behind the desk, reviewing his notes for the evening. He read them from a small leather bound book, laid open against the pristine white blotter. It was mostly a list, noting various names with different notations beside each. <br><br>Tonight was to be the social occasion of the year, an event commemorating the rise of of a fellow Ancilla like himself to the much vaunted position of primogen. It was a time of celebration, though the director himself felt no particular pleasure towards the event. The new primogen, Dumont, had long been a rival of his, a bitter enemy that he had warred with across the centuries. Their antipathy stretched back to their time as neonates, and it was only with great trepidation that the curator had agreed to host the event, in the end only at the Prince's insistence. <br><br>Even now he looked in vain for the proper manner to turn the event against his rival, striving through his notes to find some manner to undermine or discredit his rise in power. There was one possibility that had caught his eyes, a former child prodigy who was a favorite of Dumont. It was just possible that she might prove a useful tool, if properly utilized. That would be his project for the evening. She was already scheduled to attend the gala, providing the kindred there with her artistic stylings. It was an ample opportunity to a wily soul, and Alexander Knox was the perfect vampire to take advantage of such an event.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>17-12-2016, 13:16:42</strong>
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				The night air seemed especially crisp tonight as she slipped into the back seat of the town car and stared out the window as the drive maneuvered them with great care through the streets of Boston towards their destination. Earlier in the day she'd sent her violin ahead of her along with some paintings she'd made last minute changes to--some of her own choice and others not, to the conservatory. <br><br>While she'd been sheltered from most of the viciousness of vampire politics, Noemie knew that tonight was especially important to her Master. All six of the paintings that would be up for display had been carefully scrutinized and repainted until it met with his approval. Even if that had meant that she'd spent almost days at a time with little to no sleep and endured his volatile temper whenever something hadn't met his high expectations he had of her. But she'd had weathered it with patience and tears and until the tempest had finally calmed and he'd showered her with love and praise. <br><br>It was a strange relationship, being the prized possession of a creature many humans believed to be nothing more than the stuff of fiction. Once upon a time she'd had a very happy childhood and rose to fame quickly only to suddenly one night seemingly disappear into the darkness. A second honeymoon for her parents had proved to be a fatalistic trip and like some dark savior, Dumont had come to her and took her away into his world. While she no longer performed for large crowds, she had a strong following regardless as the car pulled up to the Knox Conservatory. <br><br>"Thank you, Charles."She thanked the driver as he opened her car door and she was immediately greeted by two men who looked as though they might have been Titans in a former life. The man whom she'd addressed as Charles bowing as the artist moved with her bodyguards to head inside. Her hair swept up to form a perfectly sculpted bun held in place by pins shaped to look like miniature Casablanca lily. Lithe frame clothed in an antique white dress that gave her the appearance of someone caught between decades; A short-sleeved affair with a jewel neckline made of fine lace and court train hemline. <br><br>Once inside, green eyes immediately began to search for a familiar face as the two men at her side guided her past early arrived guests who instantly recognized her. She always felt a bit out of sorts in such settings when not at her Master's side and hoped to hear his approval of her attire after she'd spent the greater part of the morning carefully choosing every part of her ensemble just so it would meet with his approval. Like a child forever trying to gain her father's praise and a lover who was all too eager to please. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>18-12-2016, 01:52:10</strong>
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				Perched above his guests now, on a balcony overlooking the main audience chamber, Alexander felt like the predator he was. He surveyed his domain with a curious gaze, taking in the many and varied kindred gathered for this occasion. This was to be a major celebration, and that meant each of the clans was out in force, though still subdivided by allegiance within the great hall.<br><br>The Toreador were most numerous, gathered around the paintings and art projects like hungry jackals, oohing and awwing at whatever art piece struck their fancy. There was not even an ounce of practicality among those gathered from the clan, with each member more over the top and fawning than the last. The director did not despise the entire clan, but this particular collection of fools set his fangs on edge. They were the careful result of decades of grooming by their master, the guest of honor himself. Dumont liked to have sycophants in his service, and it showed in spades among his kin. <br><br>There was, he noted, one exception to the vainglorious efforts of the clan, and it was ironically the very child he had an interest in himself. Child was perhaps a poor term, but Alexander had no other words to describe so young a progeny as this. She was barely into adulthood, and yet she moved with an elegance that seemed to escape her purported betters. He admired also the cut of her dress, so far from the garish colors and stylings that Toreadors, the vanguards of fashion, so often adopted. <br><br>He noted also the presence of bodyguards, two men who stood in the shadow between life and death. Ghouls he thought. They were imposing enough, though to one of his blood they seemed only a fair challenge. The bloodlust of his kind rose quickly, but was quashed just as fast. It was unbecoming he knew, to embrace such violence, even as he felt a minor pull to it. It was an inevitable consequence of this invasion of his domain.<br><br>Though he played at the idea, Alexander Knox was no mere Ventrue, though those of that venerable old clan might balk at such a descriptor. His lineage held a darker patch, tinged with the blood of the Sabbat, and an older order of warrior kings. Those without understanding called his clan Antitribu, as if it were through some accident of nature that they were created. The truth of the matter was far more complicated, and tied up in the lies and dissent of centuries. What was true, and without question, is that he embraced the true legacy of their shared history. The belief in living by the sword, and fighting for what one believed.<br><br>That was, he thought, why Dumont had always so irked him. Even from his earliest time in Boston, the slimy worm had played politics within the city, lying and manipulating for his ends. It was treacherous, and even the memory of those old machinations raised his ire. He had been loyal to the prince of that time, a woman of singular character who had chosen to take him in when he had asked for sanctuary. A woman he himself had loved. Whitney had shown him the ways of the Camarilla, had taught him to live as a wolf among sheep. It was only through her sponsorship that he had gained his current title of Keeper, and allowed him his sanctum in the city. <br><br>Whitney was gone now, and had been for nearly a century, but still Alexander remembered her, and thought of the man at whose feet he laid the blame of her death. There was never any proof, not even a shadow of it, but he knew the truth. He could smell the blood on his rival, and in time he would have his revenge. None were colder than Ventrue, even if those of his line enjoyed the blood a bit too much.<br><br>As these thoughts flowed through him, Alexander made his way through the crowd, taking the hands of his kindred brothers, welcoming them to the gala, praising and complimenting each and every one in a masterful impersonation of polite etiquette even as he moved closer to his real goal, the mortal girl who so interested him tonight.<br><br>She, he thought, looked a bit lost. Out of sorts in this environment, doubtless kept away from the monsters by her master, unused to their manner. It was almost amusing how out of sorts she seemed, without her master to point her in the correct direction. Her bodyguards provided mild steering, but had no real purpose either, waiting as they were for their master's arrival. How unfortunate for them.<br><br>Dumont would be rather late this event, inconvenienced as he was by a car accident on the highway. Alexander had seen to that, greased the appropriate palms to keep him out of pocket for a few short minutes. Happenstance was more often than not, the product of good planning. Whitney had taught him that, and many other tricks of his parent clan. Sooner of later he would have to show them all to the Toreador, and make him suffer by their virtue, but he was immaterial at the moment. She was his true goal, she was his prey.<br><br>Alexander moved up to her, parting the crowd of fawning Toreador through an effort of will, his presence parting them like the tide. He doubted most of them were even aware of their action, simply moving from before him in the same way that all cattle part before their betters. He reached out, extending a hand to hers, and smiling cordially, making himself shine a thousand times brighter as he spoke, power dripping from his words.<br><br>"Enchante, Mademoiselle. I am Alexander Knox, your host. I trust the evening finds you well?"<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>18-12-2016, 06:54:19</strong>
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				<em>"Enchante, Mademoiselle. I am Alexander Knox, your host. I trust the evening finds you well?"</em><br><br>His voice rang clear like a bell as the crowd of particularly enthusiastic art collectors threatened to overwhelm her with their never-ending questions; <em>"What made you go with that particular shade of red?" "If you could pick a medium to bring your favorite character to life, which would it be?" "When can we expect you to create something for us?" "Why doesn't Dumount return my calls?!</em>Like a flock of fashionable crows gathered on branches demanding answers to questions she didn't have the answer for. If he didn't give an outright order on how something should or should not be, then he still heavily influenced every decision she made down to which accessories she put in her hair if any. She loved him in so much as anyone might love a stranger who comes to one at age thirteen and leads them away from everything familiar into a world of fantastic and frightening things. <br><br>"Bonsoir, monsieur l'hôte. Je suis ravi de vous rencontrer."(Good Evening, Mister Host. I'm delighted to meet you.)As she gave him her hand while the two ghouls on either side of her seemed to bristle like the well-trained guard dogs they were. <br><br>There was something in the way he spoke every word, however few they might have been, that made her feel a strange sense of relief. As if now all of her awkwardness and insecurities could be laid to rest now that he had hold of her hand. While the salutation might have been a simple and even well-rehearsed one spoken over and over again, it felt wildly refreshing to be addressed as an individual rather than merely an object given a list of demands. <em>Now I feel bad for starting to enjoy myself without Dumount here.</em>She told herself, boldly taking a small step forward only to feel a meaty hand on her shoulder haul her back. <br><br>"Orders are orders."The man to her left said as she raised a crimson brow. "Not for a single moment do you leave our sight."The one on the right added as she spared a glance towards the man who had introduced himself as Alexander. Those who had speaking to her moments ago now grew bold enough once again to flock close to her, drawing her into their circle with the two sentinels standing like pillars and watching the host of this evenings soiree with expressionless faces. However carefree she'd felt moments ago, responsibility and the weight of her exalted position as her Master's favorite bore down on her. <br><br>"Forgive me, Monsieur Knox, but it would seem I am on a very short leash tonight."As one vampire took hold of her hand and shook it get her attention. "Tell us that you will play something new for us, little dove. We are all adoring fans and crave something new."The woman begged, almost as if the answer were anything but no, she might be ushered that much closer to final death. And as the questions began in earnest and she was slowly pulled away, Noemi couldn't help but spare a glance over her shoulder for a brief moment just to see if he still stood there or if he'd vanished. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>21-12-2016, 22:56:29</strong>
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				There was something fresh and entertaining about the hunt this evening. <br><br>So often Alexander's chosen prey were guileless mortals, who although possessed of a certain external awareness, did not still understand the true nature of their world, or the threat the he himself could pose to them. It was an easy mistake to fall into sloth from such easy feedings, to simply rely upon the innocence of ones prey, indeed to count upon it. Some Ventrue, falling into the lassitude of their kind, embraced such an idea, maintaining a careful herd, ensuring an army of sycophants to see to their needs, their feeding. Alexander even suspected Dumont of such attitudes.<br><br>Such ideas disgusted the museum curator Like all Ventrue, he had a very particular taste for vitae, and part of the challenge of his existence had been to find prey who suited those tastes. He fed exclusively from the blood of strong, independent souls. What he had called, in the flush of youth, warrior spirits. Those he fed from could not be mere slaves to his will, not pets trained to give of themselves. They needed to have that certain fire, a passion that burned within them. It had been difficult, in times past to find women who suited his needs, and he had needed to feed from men instead. It had been an annoying necessity that the sexual revolution had largely done away with. Women were far easier to find who met his standards, easing the challenge of the hunt, and taking part of the thrill from it for him.<br><br>This one though, was no mere mortal. She may have still possessed the blood and pulse of kine, but she had a full awareness of their shared world, and more had already dedicated herself to his rival. It was thrilling to need to surmount such odds to claim her, to take her from Dumont. It was doubly so because in their brief moment together, he had already found himself drawn to her. She was so very calm in the way she had addressed him, so careful in her french. Yet beneath that he had sensed something else, a burning passion that just waited to be tapped into. She only needed to be shown the way. <br><br>He followed at a respectful distance as she moved through the gallery with her entourage, stopping to tend to his business as keeper, providing friendly words to the guests, complimenting them in careful fashion as he watched her movements, taking care that she saw him watching her. He also paid attention to her guards, gaining a feel for their movements and actions, gauging what threat they might pose. Both were clearly skilled and dedicated to their purpose, and they had not seemed swayed in the slightest by his presence. That in itself was unusual, but he supposed they might have been trained against some efforts. It was of no matter, they did not possess the skills or abilities to oppose him, if he chose to move against them.<br><br>It was all largely a matter of timing, really. Soon the guests would be seated in the dining hall, and he would be expected to give a speech in his role as keeper. He had the remarks already committed to memory, and was prepared for those words. Then the prince himself would step up and speak, and after that Dumont, if the fool had managed to make his way across town by then. During these events she would be expected to prepare for recital, and would play after the speeches were giving, while the kindred fed. No herd here, just fine glassware and cool, tasteless blood. It was refined, but not very satisfying. He would not be present for this, and if things went according to plan, neither would she. <br><br>He just needed to opportunity to deal with her in private, and hopefully this time would come when she practiced for the recital. He had taken care in selecting the room for this, and had already laid out careful countermeasures for her bodyguards. It just remained to be seen if Dumont would stay out of pocket long enough for things to come together properly. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>23-12-2016, 22:24:24</strong>
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				Like anxious shepherds sent by a stern King, the two bodyguards escorted her through the crowd while keeping the flock of vampires at bay. Practically snarling when one bold male had snatched her hand and tried to draw her closer. She belonged to only one and while she'd narrowed her eyes sternly, the gesture might have been lost to the more overwhelming show of muscle when one ghoul bodyguard seized the man's arm and bent it until the offending party begged for mercy and the others drew sympathetically around him. As if their sneers and embraces would soothe somehow their comrade's pain as he was released to draw back into the sea of faux Victorianesque outfits and pale hands. <br><br>Taking a deep breath, something had caught her eye as she offered a subdued apology on behalf of the hired muscle. Something---<em>Someone</em> who seemed to be at a stand still while watching her. No doubt about it he was as individuals moved about him, occasional paying him a compliment for such a lovely affair or to tell a quick story. While she knew she ought to lower her eyes, as a life of living among vampires had taught her to be cautious around some, she felt a wild exhilaration slowly seeping into her being. Like a thousand butterflies waiting for the chance to take flight for the first time. But then the moment was over when a strong hand at her back gave her a sharp push to turn this way towards a room. <br><br>"He should be here."One guard said to the other, causing her to lift a carmine brow in silent wonder. Dumount wasn't here yet? It wasn't like him to be late and this small change in plans seemed to have the two guards feeling even more edgy. One could hardly blame them though; a mortal female left to her own devices amidst a sea of undead; Many of whom would love nothing more than to use her to get at their Master. Still, Noemi knew better than to ask questions because likely they wouldn't be answered. But even she couldn't help the knot of worry that began to form in the pit of her belly. Had she somehow caused her benefactor to be late? She'd never call him abusive but he was stern and there was a certain way he wanted things done. <br><br>Approaching a room, one guard leaned in to open the door and stepped in first to do a cursory sweep before motioning for her to follow. The second, meanwhile, retrieved a cell phone from his jacket's inner pocket and began to punch keys while walking away. The room was dimly lit with lamps that looked very nautical in appearance and only the welcoming sight of her violin case made her feel even remotely at ease. "You stay in here and don't make a sound."The remaining guard ordered, hesitating for a moment but in the end breaking orders to stand guard outside the door. Someone had to keep the public away in case something terrible happened. And the guards were both convinced there was no other way for danger to get inside such a nest that their Master's little dove hid in. <br><br>Once alone, Noemi sat in a chair while gripping the arms tightly. Had she done something to delay Dumount? Was she doing everything she could to ensure that she wasn't causing him to be humiliated? Rather than break down and give into hysterics, the redheaded mortal raised her bow and violin, playing to combat against her anxiety and insecurities. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>29-12-2016, 22:44:07</strong>
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				Alexander continued his slow pursuit, watching as the pair of guards became more and more unnerved by the lack of their master. He could smell the fear on them, the stark rising terror of a slave without purpose. They had been instructed to bring her to this place, to keep her safe, and to wait for their better to arrive. Now that Dumont had missed their deadline they were becoming fearful, and unsure. Ghouls held no real place in this world after all. They were merely extensions of a kindred's will. Freed from that control, they were little better than sheep.<br><br>Alexander though, was no sheep. He was a wolf, and the scent of fear drove him onward. He loved it, savoring the taste of it. So many Ventrue let themselves be possessed by cool dispassion, but that had never been his way. He could be cool and calculating when it suited him, but those intellectual pursuits were only a mask for the warrior's blood that pumped within him. He could feel the desire of it, the fire driving him onward. When the guards took her to her room, he saw his chance, chuckling to himself as he watched them guarding against the door, keeping an eye out for outward threat. Foolish really, that they should overlook one such as him.<br><br>Before his charm had been like a cloak, but now the ventrue focused himself upon the task at hand, expending his own vitae to fuel his transformation. He armored himself in presence, donning it as a knight might wear armor. This went beyond the mere trappings of allure, the concepts of mortal beauty. He became unearthly, a god descended from the heavens. He felt the crowd part around him as he transformed, his new mien unconsciously pushing them back like a tide.<br><br>Vampires with better than a hundred years on this Earth were stunned by his change, even those who recognized his power were still swept back from it. Thoughts of the sacredness of Elysium swept aside in a raw animal fear, like a dog cowering before lightning. He strode forward, past the crowd, to where the door was still guarded by the ghoul. This time the dominance of the men's gaze was drained away by Knox's mere presence, dwindling away into the servant they both truly were. Knox spared them each only a glance, as each moved aside from his presence, physically unable to stand before him. <br><br>He smiled at the two, cruelty lighting upon his features for the first time in the evening. He was not often cruel, but something of their earlier interruption still irked him. The gall of them to interrupt him, to stand against their better. Alexander decided that it was only appropiate that they should pay for the discretion, and knew a fitting method for their repayment.<br><br>"Your master is on the 0-305. You will go there, and report your abject failure to him. You will deserve whatever fate he decides for you, but if you ever appear in my home again, I shall rend the skin from your flesh. Tell him Alexander sends his regards. Tell him that I have stolen away his little songbird."<br><br>It was bold perhaps, to so clearly outline one's plan to another elder, but that was the fun of the matter. If he was fortunate, then perhaps the Toreador would incited by such words, and try to settle matters personally. That would be most pleasing. In the mean time, well Alexander had other affairs to attend to. He gave the two thugs no more thought, brushing past them into the room beyond, listening the violin playing beyond. <br><br>The sound of it took his breath away, transporting him to a time before, when music had been played by hand, not recorded by mechanical apparatus, and played alongside cloying advertisements. A time when music had held real soul. He paused in the doorway, listening to this for a long moment, and then stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. Waiting in shadow for his pray to acknowledge him. He left his presence fully intact for her, letting her take in his full masculine beauty, the control he exuded now. When she made eye contact with him, he redoubled his effort, pushing his refined control into her mind, seizing it directly for the moment as he spoke simply, bluntly.<br><br>"It is time to go my dear."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>04-01-2017, 16:40:57</strong>
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				Blissfully unaware of what was taking place outside of the room, nimble fingers plucked at strings and occasionally adjusted the pegs before resuming playing. Once she'd gotten everything as she'd wanted it to, the air around her became a fortress of sound; Eyes closed tightly while all of her anxiety was beaten back with each stroke of her bow. Every whine and sigh became a brick in the wall between herself and those negative emotions until all she could focus on was which direction to pull next. <br><br>If Alexander thought himself a wolf, she was a dove. Something that personified innocence and simple beauty bearing a message of hope. At least, that's how she'd always striven to be for Dumount. Even though deep down she longed for something more, had an unnamed itch that yearned to be scratched. And seeing Mr. Knox tonight and their brief encounter had caused that secret part of her to stir. A flower promising to blossom under the light of the moon with just the right amount of exposure. Even just thinking about it set her feet into motion as she continued to play and now dance to her melody. A sonata dedicated for her wicked and restless desires she tried to hide away from her Keeper just so she could be what he wanted her to be. <br><br>Unaware of the door opening or of the single audience she'd drawn, she continued to twirl and dance until at long last she felt herself needing to rest. Her back to the doorway as she spun a final time and lowered her instrument to take a much needed breath. But then she turned slowly, as if guided by insidious and unseen fingers that beckoned her to do so. Lips parted slightly and chest rising and falling subtly as she stared into the eyes of the curator and his voice filled her ears like warm honey. <em>"It is time to go my dear."</em>Yes. It was time to take leave of this place. Closing her lips and taking a step forward towards her captor, Noemi didn't even think twice until a tiny voice in the back of her head whispered caution. <em><em>What if this is a test?</em></em><br><br>Frowning as she paused, she felt as if she were digging her nails into rock trying not to get swept away by a strong current as that voice grew louder. Yes..what IF this was a test of loyalty? This was her first time alone in a place where she was the only human after all. If she wished to break for her independence, this might be her one real opportunity to do so. Rebel against the harsh rules that had become law to her. It was a losing battle, she knew. But the songbird raised her bow as if it were a sword and pointed it at the vampire before her while it would become apparent to eyes as perceptive as his, that she was on the losing end of this fight. <br><br>"N-No."She spoke with great effort, the current growing stronger and her nails losing their tenuous grip. She would fail, she would fall but not without at least trying to prove where her loyalty lie. So that when it was all said and done, her keeper might know that she had genuinely tried to make him proud and happy--as she did in all things. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>06-01-2017, 01:24:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Her response to his commandment was a genuine surprise to the Ventrue. Alexander had long ago come to terms with the raw animal magnetism which his vampiric abilities had provided. There were few even among the kindred who might have dared to openly oppose him veiled as he was, in the glory of his power. It took him quite aback that this mere mortal dared to defy him. He felt his lip start to curl at the thought, automatic outrage flowing through him at the thought.<br><br>He stepped closer to her, knowing full well the way that his presence would project the emotion, knowing the fear bring forth from her. At the same time that his anger flared though, other thoughts came into his mind. Curiosity began to blossom within him. He had never seen a mortal possessed of enough spirit to resist his charms, not even for a moment. It was quite unheard of, unbelievable even. The will required had been, to the best of his knowledge, the singular domain of other kindred, and even they were hard pressed to the feat.<br><br>Still, there was little time for this discussion. Once they were safely away he would need to speak with her on the subject, determine what if any skills Dumont had used to aid her in this resistance. He doubted such a thing honestly, the man was far too self possessed to give one of his toys the tools of freedom but few other options presented themselves. Unless of course she was even stronger than he had initially surmised.<br><br>Interesting.<br><br>When he spoke again, his tone betrayed none of this interior discussion, focusing instead on her defiance, and the crushing of such thoughts. His words would fall like hammer strikes from an angry god, powerful and weighty. Even his appearance would seem greater now, and clothed in a roiling darkness. His striking nature was now enhanced by a Godly fury that seemed to burn within him, blazing away any hope of defiance.<br><br>"I did not ask your council Woman. We are leaving. You may follow of your own behest, or you may be taken by force. I have no time nor interest in bargains. My ship awaits, and the hour grows long."<br><br>Without thought he reached out then, his strong hand maneuvering to grip her own, and pull her towards him. There was a raw brutality in the act, quite apart from his cool and calm demeanor. The fire within her was bringing out some of the same in him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>06-01-2017, 22:56:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It had been a doomed venture from the start, trying to resist him. <br>One moment he was like Prince Charming who'd come to whisk her away to his castle in the clouds and the next? He was the embodiment of virtually every nightmare she'd ever had and had yet to have as each word he uttered was like a fist that beat her pathetically short-lived defiance into the ground.<br><br>Tears sprang to her eyes but they were quickly sniffed back just as quickly as they manifested as he conveyed how urgently they needed to leave. Before she could form words, he'd seized hold of her hand and hauled her forward towards him, causing her to drop her violin as she stared up at him with shimmering eyes. She'd upset him, she'd failed him and now she felt terribly guilty as she squeezed his hand rather than try to pull free. Indeed, she tucked herself against his taller form and moved in tandem with his steps. <br><br>"You're right, we need to leave."She agreed with him, the abandonment of her precious instrument completely ignored as they approached the door. "I don't want you to miss your ship."Reaching for the knob and turning it so that they could cross the threshold together. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrThorne</strong> on <strong>20-01-2017, 00:59:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was an element of satisfaction to his manner as she responded to him, a quelling of his natural predatory arrogance. Yet there was something else to his features as he moved with her away from the small cramped room, a look that might to other, lesser vampires, might have been ascribed to guilt. Not at his claiming of her, that he knew without question was his birthright, his honor. No, this self criticism came from manner of the claiming. It was, he knew, dishonorable to use such low tactics to gain the fealty of others. More, she had presented surprising stamina against his advances, a level of control he was not used to seeing from mortals. Part of him regretted the shortness of time that had pressed his hand. He would have preferred to wile away at her defenses in a less oppressive manner.<br><br>There was also the matter of the violin. He was not by any means an expert in such matters, but he recognized the easy finery of Dumont in the instrument, and knew that it's destruction came at the cost of a priceless artifact. Doubtless it was some valuable antique from the pretender's collection. She doubtless had personal attachment to the item as well. It would need to be replaced he decided, his mind already turning towards such matters as they moved across the crowded recital hall. None dared even look at him, nonetheless stop him. The power of his presence was still fully manifest, and those who had gathered for the exhibition could do little but sense his presence. It was like looking upon the sun, or so he imagine.<br><br>He regretted this as well. There was a heavy price to be paid, to violate the terms of Elysium. The damage done to his reputation would be significant, if not irreparable. That though, was expected fallout for this dalliance. He had known that hurting the Toreador would require a payment in blood and coin, and this was just the opening gambit of that play.<br><br>Alexander made his was from the building in short order, stepping with his prize into the back of the late model Rolls Royce waiting for them. The driver, already well briefed on his instructions, sped off without delay. Moving with all due speed towards the marina across town. Alexander turned his attention back to Noemie where the sat waiting and compliant. She had fallen asleep now, he noticed, overcome by his presence. He made her comfortable as best he could while they sped through the city, taking a few moments to savor her beautiful athletic form. He could hear the steady beat of her heart close at hand, and felt the hunger within him grow in response. All too soon it would be sated.<br><br>The drive across town and the embarkation onto the yacht were both completed in short order; the staff already waiting patiently for his arrival. They saw to casting off and taking the ship out of the harbor while he took the mortal woman to his chambers, laying her down upon the large well appointed bed at the center of his domain. <br><br>Like the office before it, this cabin held his singular personality in its every line, with simple but elegant teak woodwork, and artifacts from his long and interesting life upon the walls. It held a surprisingly high ceiling, and had many leather bound books upon its shelves. Everything about the room spoke of the sea, and the only concession given to his undead nature was an uncharacteristic lack of windows.<br><br>He sat at the desk as he waited for her to awaken, a fountain pen held in his hand as he began to sketch out a letter to his hated rival; laying out to him how absolutely he had been defeated. It was really only a matter of time now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Water (Kouen &amp; MrThorne)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kouen</strong> on <strong>23-01-2017, 22:48:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The lamb that followed Mary wherever she went couldn't have been more obedient than the redheaded mortal as she remained tucked at the side of Mr. Knox. Moving away from the token of her past life with her caretaker and towards the door without a backwards glance at the fine instrument. Just as all the years spent with the vampire's bitter rival, it was inconsequential. <br><br>Everything became a blur of colors and sound to her when the door opened and they moved across the floor towards the exit. Like watching autumn leaves fall, whispering behind the backdrop of a soft rain as voices murmured as they parted to allow them passage. Perhaps if they weren't so pressed for time, she might have dared to deify him further and demand he answer her questions rather than move with the blank expression on her face that hardly seemed to register when they were no longer inside the gallery and now inside the classic vehicle. <br><br>It wasn't until they'd begun to pull away and race through the streets of the city that she finally gave way to mental exhaustion; Being wrapped up in his presence had been suffocating, overwhelming and oddly enough, comforting. The latter of which in an albeit dark manner as she quietly fainted and dreamed of bathing naked in a warm ocean while a pair of eyes watched her in the turbulent night sky. . . <br><br>How long she'd been out, she couldn't say. But some time after she'd been brought to their destination and laid upon his bed, the violinist began to stir. Slowly at first but then sat up quickly and even quicker deduced that she was no longer in familiar territory. Crimson brows furrowed and she seized a pillow from behind her and quickly threw it at the vampire writing at the desk. <br>"Who are you and why am I here?! Are you such a coward that the only way you know how to strike at your enemy is to abduct a human girl?"She demanded, sitting up and squaring her shoulders like some empress deeply offended by this affront. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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