Macabre
<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: Malrunar on 29-12-2014, 06:21:46</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 06:21:46</strong>
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				Ashton pulled a face, looking down into the Styrofoam cup with clear regret tugging tightly on her features. What had appeared to be harmless gas-station coffee was cleverly disguised as crud, complete with the drags that had failed to be caught from a filter. Her first sip was the consistency of quicksand, just on the side shy of scalding. She was quite certain that it was the worst two dollars she had ever spent. “Ugh…” Ash spit what she could back into her cup and placed the wretched container in the cup holder. Nothing could be helped for the grit still left on her tongue, so she swallowed it. “Jesus Christ… Who did I piss off to deserve that?”<br><br>“Bums flashing you again?” The man’s voice drifted from the Bluetooth speaker in her ear, but even though Carlos wasn’t sitting in the car next to her, she knew he was slowly smiling. For theatrics, Ashton smacked her lips together and wished she had thought to buy bottled water or something else to distract her pallet.<br><br>“The nights still young,” came her murmur, while she pulled tighter her leather jacket and scooted down into the seat of her unmarked car. It was cold; frost was heavy on the streets and the clouds rolling in promised snow. She had left her back windows cracked to prevent condensation from building up. For one reason, the condensation would make it obvious that her vehicle was occupied. For another, it would make keeping a lookout more challenging when she couldn’t see out of the glass. And if tonight was like any other night, she was going to be sitting here for quite some time. “I made the mistake of picking up coffee at the 7-11 on Forty-Sixth and Circle Drive. I’m pretty sure they forgot the filter when they made this stuff. They probably treated it like instant coffee. Dump grounds, add toilet water. Let cook until boiling…”<br><br>The masculine laugh made her crack a smile, but his laugh spoke of experience in her plight. “You gotta go to the 76 station on Rainier. Reyna works the late shift and her brothers a cop. Free coffee and she uses Folgers.”<br><br>“Folgers knows what they’re doing.”<br><br>“Folgers knows best.”<br><br>Silence stretched between them for a few minutes, both on separate stake-outs on the opposite side of a huge city. New York had plenty to offer, and while it was far away from where she called home, she couldn’t deny a certain love of this place. Six months as a detective and she was still learning the basics; don’t skimp on the coffee. Keep snacks on hand. Invest in gloves…<br><br>“It’s snowing.” Carlos’ voice was heavy with weariness, but she liked hearing it. They weren’t partners in any sense, and they had only met once when Ashton was assigned to the department, but they shared the late hours and long nights over ear-pieces to fill the silent void that often played in the background. It kept the jitters away and the tiredness from taking hold. For the most part.<br><br>“Clear skies here. Not even a rat in the street.” She sighed, craning her head around in order to ease the tight muscles in her neck. Looking over her shoulder for the past hour was playing havoc; already she felt a headache drumming dully in her temples. A shiver found her spine and traced all the way up to the base of her skull. She reached a hand up to rub at her scalp, hoping to alleviate the tension building in her head. “You know… I haven’t seen Chris all night, either.”<br><br>“Who?”<br><br>She leaned forward with the creak of her leather jacket, narrowing her eyes as if that would allow her to penetrate the dark. In the alley she was watching there was a dumpster long forgotten, and a set of stairs that led into an apartment full of illegal housing. But it was the door across from it that she was interested in, a place that occasionally swelled with criminals who had enough money to buy away their crimes. She had her eyes set on one man in particular; Jacob Forelli, with a list of crimes that bloated his ledger. There had been curious murders of late, bodies showing up with no blood, pale and matching every description of a Hollywood movie. The work of ‘vampires’ as the media stated. Jacob had a fetish for the dramatics, it was one of the reasons he was hired to ‘clean up’ someone’s problem. Everyone knew he was guilty, even his mother, but the way the justice system worked required substantial amounts of evidence that his rich friends and associates couldn’t buy away.<br><br>Something tall and dark moved in the alley, a familiar shape that didn’t match Jacob’s own squat features.&nbsp;“There he is again.”<br><br>“Who?”<br><br>“Not sure… but I’ve seen this guy go into the same set of doors three times this week… I’m going to go take a better look.”<br><br>“Watch your back, kid.”<br><br>“Try not to fall asleep. I’ll let you know if anything good happens.”<br><br>She turned off her Bluetooth, then tucked it inside her inner jacket pocket before pressing her palm against the familiar metal of her pistol. Ashton slipped out of her car like a shadow, thankful she had already rigged her car to keep the light from turning on every time the door opened. But she wasn’t thankful for the cold chill that assaulted her the moment she was out, once again regretting the fact that she didn’t have gloves for her cold hands. <em>Tomorrow,</em> she promised herself, just as the first snow flake landed on her nose.<br><br>Dressed in jeans, wearing sturdy boots and a gray sweater under her brown leather jacket, Ashton looked less like a cop and more like a recent college grad. She was pretty in the natural sort of way, not bothering with mascara or any of the other stuff, with long black hair was currently loose around her shoulders in order to keep her neck and ears relatively warm. She moved like a wraith in the shadows, with the grace of the dancer she used to be. After all, ballroom dancing and tango had been her passion before deciding to forgo her career as a performer for higher aspirations. She was a terrible cliché, she realized, like so many of those story book females headlining in romance novels. Only she had scars from fights that were real, she knew what it was like to kill a man and she wasn’t a blushing virgin with foolish notions of true love and an internal need to be rescued. Even if she hadn’t been laid in weeks with a quickly diminishing supplies of batteries.<br><br>“Living the good life,” she muttered, just before she bounded up the steps gracefully, and slipped inside the set of doors the mysterious man had gone through. Time to enjoy the rush of adrenaline, and figure out what he was all about.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 08:12:01</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">He was confused. Well, as confused as you could make a man with the knowledge he had obtained over the years of living. Icy sapphire eyes narrowed down his desk where numerous papers were scattered about. Files and manila envelopes lay strewn across the floor and a bookshelf of haphazardly placed books sat in waiting to be plucked from their home. Behind him the entirety of the wall was covered in papers, photographs, sticky notes, pins, strings, and stickers. It mapped people, places, objects, direct associations, indirect people, acquaintances, relatives, friends, politics, people in low or in high places. It seemed to have covered everything. The only strange bit about the wall however, was that some of these people had a white sticky not next to their name. The only thing written on it was a sketch of a handprint with an eye in the center. It seemed ominous and out of place, and had anyone stumbled upon the room this man would have been labeled as a conspiracy theorist.<br><br>But Kamui was never closer to the truth. With his black dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his black hair pulled back into a low tail at the base of his neck he paced around the room trying to figure out the most vital detail of them all.<br><br><strong>"Who?"</strong><br><br>It was a low mutter to himself, which was rare even in his own company with nothing but curtain drawn windows and the flicker of candle fire. Yes Kamui was an 'old school' man, as they might say. Enjoying light that was a tad more natural and a bit more comfortable to the eyes rather than the fake light and annoying buzz that people seemed to ignore day in and day out. His keen ars heard it though, and it never ceased to give him a headache every time. Kamui idly wondered if mankind sacrificed their sanity in exchange for technology.<br><br>With a heavy sigh he stopped in front of his desk to tuck his black shirt into pristine white trousers while scanning over the same paper he had been staring at for several hours. It must have held the answer to his questions. He could end it if he could only figure out who was in control of the chaos befalling the city. It plagued him day after day, and although he could easily forget the whole thing and continue to live in the quiet sanctuary in the back forty of the city Kamui could not ignore the fact that people were dying left and right. Dying in <strong>his</strong> territory, by his kind no less. Yes he was that mythological creature that people hem and hawed over, making terrible movies with poor representation of his once proud race. The Vampire that burned in the sun or took a bullet and healed instantly, insane strength and the charm to woo any interested party. Some of it were true, but these days Vampires sparkled and had teeth like sharks, drank gallons of blood to be satisfied and cried about their immortality.<br><br>Not Kamui, and certainly not any of the Ascended that he had known. It was a thing of the past now, his pride that is. At one point in his life he couldn't go anywhere without someone recognizing his face or bowing in his presence, but those days were long gone, as were the people he had grown close to. <br><br><strong>"There." </strong><br><br>His eyes had finally found it. A small key to the bigger picture. Apparently a man he had seen at the scene of a crime one too many times. A mister Jacob Forelli was apparently quite the artist when it came to covering up his tracks, or at least that is what it had seemed like. He had been waiting for the right moment, staking out the same place time after time but never able to catch the man in the act. Kamui knew the man was working for someone, and that someone was not human. His nose twitched as he stared at the photo before carefully moving towards the curtains, brushing them aside to watch the sun disappear beneath the horizon. It was his time to work now and with soundless steps he picked up a folder on the desk and made his way into the living room.<br><br>His house was pristine. Clean, old fashioned, and Victorian were words commonly used to describe the old refurbished building. Wood floors, stone hearths, and a large chandelier hung over the center of his living room. People would say the he was a man for theatrics but in reality he really, really hated modern lighting. Perhaps his flawless porcelain skin was proof of the life he lived in darkness. It wasn't a trait given to him thanks to his gift, but mere genetics. Vampires could be any race after all.<br>Taking up his white double breasted jacket he quickly became a transformation of rumored savior. The White Knight, The Angel. There were many things he had heard over the last few months, spread by the underground network he used to get information, or even from those he had saved in the past. <br>Kamui only viewed himself as a man trying to set things right however, and currently his only goal was to make sure that no more died. He was so tired of all the death, it was why he had left his home, continued to move forward and secluded himself in the hills where he could remain undisturbed. The night life however called to him occasionally, and the humans that dwell in the city had become those of good company. Some times.<br><br>Although he had a vehicle Kamui didn't bother to use it, his feet were much quicker getting into the city and the shadows harbored him from prying eyes. It wasn't long before he reached his destination, a nasty back alley that screamed drug trafficking and rape. It made him twitch uncomfortably, but that didn't stop him from making his way soundlessly through the darkness and&nbsp; up into the dimly lit room that held his victim. <br>Slowly a pale hand reached for the knob and he entered like a whisper, his eyes flashed crimson as he spotted a man in the corner of the room busying himself over a wad of cash and papers that likely marked his next target. It was dark in the room, a single lamp precariously balanced on top of a stack of empty pizza boxes told him that this wasn't where Jacob usually spent his time. He must have been waiting for someone else, or perhaps he already did since it seemed like the man was ready to make his move.<br><br>Kamui stood silently, and when the man glanced up at the figure at the opposite end of the room he yelped and reached behind him. In the blink of an eye Kamui was standing inches from his face, long pale fingers digging into the mans shoulder with a fierce grip paralyzing him and the hand that was currently wrapped around the handle of a gun.<br><strong>"I do not think so... Mr. Forelli is it?"</strong> His deep voice growled, an accent that was unable to be detected as it was a strange mix of several cultures plastered together on a sharp tongue.<br><br>He didn't have long unfortunately because through the sound of a whimpering man he heard the cautious footsteps of a someone outside. Cursing mentally the light suddenly switched off and his eyes reverted to their light blue just as the door opened to reveal a hooded figure. It was a cop he guessed, able to tell from the smell of bad coffee and the way their clothes were a bit too clean for someone in this area. A stig apparently, one he hadn't seen while scaling the steps to the partially abandoned apartment. Searching his mind for what to do Kamui roughly twirled the man around so that despite the short stature of Mr. Forelli the Vampire was now behind him trying to hide from view by averting attention to the victim.<br><br><strong>"Evening Officer."</strong> He greeted, this time an American accent of North West descent. His free hand took the gun from Jacob and switched on the safety before tossing it to the officials feet.<br><strong>"I'd say you're a tad late on the upkeep, but unfortunately I am just now getting here myself."</strong> Reaching inside his coat the manila envelope containing&nbsp; documents surrounding their criminal were also tossed to the ground, not far from the gun. Kamui wondered if he could get off lying that he was an official, though the downside of that were impersonating an officer, and revealing his identity. The latter was definitely high on his list.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 10:03:54</strong>
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				It was a little too quiet, and what an unsettling feeling that was. The expected murmur of music or a television was absent in this building, no heavy snoring echoed behind any set of doors, no dim glow suggested a computer was on. It was absent of life, including the homeless looking to shelter themselves from the bitter wind and freshly falling snow. None of this was right, echoed only by the strange buzzing she couldn’t quite place. It was less of a sound and more of an instinct, sort of like when someone had a television set turned on in the other room with the volume off. The deeper inside the building she went, the more it prickled unseen across her skin, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She had felt something similar a few times before, mostly at graveyards and old houses that made noises, but logic explained to her that she was only nervous. After all she was flying solo, and mentally she had prepared herself only for a long night in a cold car. <em>Focus, woman.</em><br><br>Ashton climbed the stairs, making sure to keep her feet close to the wall and railing to prevent them from groaning underfoot. When she reached the fourth floor she finally spotted a pale light coming from a room with the door ajar. Sounds of deep voices and movement greeted her ears, but the whimper of alarm caused the detective to unholster her weapon and click the safety off. One boot kicked the door open the rest of the way to make sure no one was standing behind it, and while she held her pistol in a solid ace-grip, leveled at Jacob, her finger wasn’t yet on the trigger. Fear melted away to hide somewhere in the back of her mind, still present but not taking over. She toed the gun that was slid across the floor and kicked it down the stairs to keep it out of the way, but the only ones in the room was her target and who she could only suspect to be her shadow figure.<br><br>The light wasn’t playing in her favor; all she could see was the gleam of his eyes and the outline of strong features. The long hair threw her; certainly not a style you see these days, but it worked with a chin that strong. Jacob was quite the opposite. Here he was exposed in the light, short, stocky, with a face that looked as if it had been pinched while the claw was still drying, and a hairline that was getting higher and higher every time she saw him. But the nervous eyes flicking side to side didn’t seem to land on either Ashton and her trained gun, or the man hiding behind, supposedly working on the same side of justice as she…<br><br><em>And yet… how did he know I was a cop?</em> Her badge hung around her neck by a slim black cord, but this was dangling between her breasts and under her shirt. She narrowed her eyes and trained her gun on the black-haired man. “NYPD. On the ground, Jacob, hands over your head. You should be pretty used to that position by now.” She was glad her voice was as level and calm as it was, no sign of fear betrayed her, yet that unknown static she felt was building in the air, as if the hammering of her heart was fueling it somehow.<br><br>Jacob dropped all too eagerly, hands covering his head with little more than a grunt. Ashton stepped closer, gray eyes focusing on the second man. “You. Hands where I can see them, nice and slow.” Her cheek twitched, something invisible brushed against her skin and encouraged a fresh prickle of goosebumps across her flesh. It was distracting and alarming.<br><br>The light began to flicker.<br><br>Jacob didn’t like that. He cowered, but a nervous laugh broke free of his lips as the flickering of the light increased. “You sure picked a time, McKlane,” he chuckled, but there was no humor in his words. “You always seem to pick the perfect time…”<br><br>Something snapped. She had no words for it, but the static and pressure that had been building in the room was suddenly gone, and instead of filling her with relief she felt an uneasy terror. Whatever had snapped created a wound and no sooner had she thought that than the floorboards above their head creaked and cracked. The light went out and in the sudden darkness a shape blacker than night stood against the window, tall and hunched with eyes like burning stone. It opened its mouth and screamed, sounding like a horrible mix of trumpets and metal grating on metal.<br><br>It moved. No... <em>She</em> moved. Somehow. What looked to be a wickedly curved claw passed just a hair’s breadth from her face, a dark blur that her wide eyes could barely register. Someone had tackled her and reacted faster than her disbelief allowed, removing her from harm’s way. They hit the floor with grunts; Ashton’s gun miraculously still in her hand, but the terrible screams leaking from Jacob’s throat began to fill the room with wet tears. Hot copper, bloody bowels, she visited enough crime scenes to know the scent of death, but this was fresh and new and whatever was in the room was doing it to her prime suspect.<br><br>The creaking of the ceiling turned into the shrieking of wood, announcing another dark figure that dropped into the room, followed by a second, heavier form that held a more solid shape. She thought, <em>How could a dog be in here?</em> before she felt long hair tickling along her face, giving her a better idea on who had pushed her out of harm’s way. “Get—!”<br><br>He was torn away from her. Instincts had Ashton lifting her hands up towards her face just in time to meet with the muzzle of a hell-hound. It was stocky on its thick frame and smelled of burnt amber and rotten eggs, but the teeth were incredibly real and tore at her hands with ease. Even in the absence of a bright light she could see inside its mouth, inches from her own, with rows of jagged fangs not unlike a shark. She pulled the trigger three times, each shot going straight down its mouth and into the gray skin that lined it. Bullets punctured it, the creature heaved and writhed, black blood sprayed her face and rained down on her jacked, but what should have blown the back of his head off only caused the beast to wince in pain, withdrawing some, but not freeing the woman off of the ground.<br><br>Three more shots fired, forming a perfect triangle around one red, glowing eye. This time the hound screamed, a sound that she felt in her bones. He pulled back, shaking his head side to side as if only stung. “Get out of here!” She tried shouting a second time, ordering the black-haired man to escape while he could. If he could. Funny, how she hadn’t thought about doing the same thing herself.<br><br>She was quick to get to her knees, but slow to rise. The hound lunged and took her down again, pinning her to her back with its teeth locked over her pistol. One bullet was released, causing its tongue to explode, but the metal was crunched and useless by the power of its jaws, rendering the woman weaponless.<br><br>She kicked with her feet until she was out of the door, grunting under the strain as she wrapped her hands around its jaws, trembling as she tried to keep it from finding her throat. Her fingers bled, ripped open and screaming with their own protests, but adrenaline helped dull the pain back down to a furious buzz. She slid across the floor as the hound continued to push, but bad planning and logistics were against her. Soon her back met empty air, and the both of them went down the stairs with a loud crash. She felt the wind get knocked out of her, the lip of the stairs crunch against her ribs, her skull smacked soundly against the wall. The hound broke through the banister and fell between the stair cases, four stories down until it finally met the floor. Judging by the finally cry and the wheezing, the creature wasn’t getting back up again.<br><br>Dazed, Ashton shook her head and tried to collect her thoughts. Gray danced around her eyes but failed to swarm her vision completely, so she assumed that meant she was well enough to make her way back up the stairs, and back to that dreaded room.<br><br>But after she allowed herself a moment to make a pathetic sound, the sort of whimper she was thankful no one could possibly hear.<br><br><em>Move woman. Get to your feet.</em><br><br>There was violence a floor above, she could hear it still. But as she rolled onto her knees Ashton felt the gun she had kicked before, the one belonging to Jacob, and so she forced herself to stand, fighting for air, and clicked the safety off. Maybe bullets would have better luck on the humanoids, than they did on the mutt.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 14:30:07</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">He was hoping that the officer would start to interrogate him right then and there that way he could get the information he was seeking. That seemed silly now that he thought about the protocol of law enforcement. However it seemed that Mr. Forelli was more than guilty for his crimes and apparently the cop knew this as it sounded like they were well acquainted with his past offenses. He was taken back at the sound of a woman's voice not having expected a female's presence. The Vampire had sensed something was off but it wasn't her voice that triggered it.<br><br>All too soon Jacob was cowering on the ground more eagerly than he had expected. With a hesitant step back Kamui kept his hands out of his pockets like the cop asked, but the man that had prostrated himself before her made him uneasy. Something wasn't right, and all too soon the aura that rippled through the room answered that for him. It felt like breath on the back of your neck, the gentle brush of ghostly fingers across your arm, the nervous bubble of bile in one's gut. He knew this feeling, someone was summoning death.<br><br>It happened quickly, the maniacal laughter of Jacob and then the lights flickering. A breeze seemed to come from no where and the man was suddenly talking as if he knew what was happening. Were his suspicions correct about Forelli? Had he really been working with the creature behind the chaos of New York? It was strange to see Humans that knew about the supernatural, much less be acquainted with it. There were always those quacks that thought they understood the occult or knew what they were yammering on about, but Kamui made a point to stay away from those type of people.<br><br>Suddenly the aura vanished, replaced with a terrifying feeling that he didn't expect. The Vampire had fought many demons in his past time, but fighting one like this had not been on his to-do list.<br><br>The humanoid fell from a void in the ceiling landing only feet from them. It towered despite its hunched back, all sinewy skin and bones with taut muscle holding it together. It's eyes burned like hot embers in it's skull like head, and it screeched with a maw of black rows of teeth and red speckled serpent like tongue. Black goo fell from its mouth and dripped onto the tattered sleeveless robe that scarcely covered its form. He had faced one last week and thankfully managed to take care of it quickly, granted he had the upper hand at the time and the demon didn't. They normally didn't make appearances in front of humans, usually summoned by someone to do their dirty work before vanishing, that meant someone was nearby, and that unsettled him. <br><br>A shiver ran down his spine. If someone had summoned this demon, he hadn't felt their presence, and that bothered him most of all.<br><br>It was a flash of movement he noticed before she had, unfortunately it wasn't quick enough. Jumping to move her from harms way the claw barely missed her and managed to place a rather nice gash in his shoulder. Falling to the ground with a harsh grunt he quickly knelt beside her to shield the woman from what he knew was to come. The screaming only answered his thoughts and the blood sprayed and guts splattered across the floor of the room. The smell of copper made him grind his teeth, eyes flashing fierce like rubies as he watched two more figures drop from the ceiling.<br>Another clawed Reaper and a Hell-Hound joined them, but it wasn't long before he was thrown across the room and the hound attacked it's target. Kamui hit the wall like a wet towel flashes of white blurring his vision as the pain throbbed in his head while he fell to the floor with a dull thud. Unfortunately he was quickly picked up again by the shoulders, its claws digging into his once pristine white suit and piercing his skin. The pain was stamped down with the will to fight and dimmed by the need to save the young woman fighting the Hell-Hound. Hopefully she could hold out just a little longer while he fought the immense grip the Reaper had on him.<br><br>From the corner of his eye he could see the cop struggling for her life trying to use bullets on a demon. Figures humans would try to use something so simple on a creature of darkness. She would be chow for the hound if he didn't act quick but unfortunately he was tied up at the moment. The Reaper growled his in his face, screaming an ancient dialog that he unfortunately, understood. Kamui wasn't presented with many choices and although he wished his identity would have remained a secret it, seemed that that wasn't going to be in the cards for him.<br>Crimson hues flashed as the Vampire's aura pulsed in the room just as he heard three shots sound. Not long after another three followed before the beast screamed in pain nearly shaking the room with it's agony. The officer had fired off half her ammunition if he wasn't mistaken and even then it wouldn't be dead. She had shouted for him to escape just then and he couldn't help but laugh in the back of his mind. Funny how he had been thinking the same.<br><br>Wrestling from the creatures grip he managed to land a hit to it's skull causing the demon to drop him to the floor just as another shot rung out. It was perfect timing apparently as it managed to distract the demon's attention for a split second and Kamui made his move to lunge and tackle it to the floor. <br>Suddenly a crash was heard and the detective and the hound had gone flying out the room and down the stairwell.<br><strong>"Detective!"</strong> He shouted after her, his worry and caution making him work and think faster for her sake. There was still another demon and it was about ready to pounce now that he gained the upper advantage on it's friend. <br><br>Sweat was beading on his brow, the heat of their exhertions and the pain that he tried to forget. The handsome suit was splattered with slowly drying blood, that of Jacob's and his own. Hopefully the demon would be able to add his to the mix too. With a thrust of his fist into it's chest he quickly found a strangely shaped object that might have once resembled a heart. A tormented soul used to be summoned and enslaved, it screamed and writhed beneath him, trying to scratch and claw it's way to freedom. Kamui leaned back, but didn't release the demon from his grasp as it shouted in it's mother tongue. Before it could do anymore damage the Vampire had summoned the strength for his target and crushed the core in his hand.<br><br>The body began to burn and crumble like stone and burning coals, black liquid coating his hand as he released the demon. Crimson finally mingled with the black blood of the demon. The victory was short lived however as another shout of demonic language forced his attention. It couldn't continue, this madness that involved the humans. He was tired and quickly finding himself growing weaker. His body wasn't strong enough to fight like this, let alone take this much damage all at once.<br><br>Quickly getting to his feet he heard the steps of the woman slowly creeping up the stairwell and managed a glance back at her before turning his attention to a lunging Reaper.<br><br>It happened fast, faster than Kamui could act. It was a blur of motion and the cop was thrown across the room just as he had been moments ago. The claws of the demon cracked and twitched becoming longer like daggers till he was lurching again to attack his target.<br><br>It ended just as quickly as it started. The demon and Kamui standing face to face with no room separating them and one hand inside the chest of the other. They were hardly feet from the woman's body, and crimson cascaded down the front and back of his suit. A stark contrast against the white that quickly faded. Burning orbs stared hatefully into the ruby irises of the Vampire while they shared a silence of a knowing victory. His fist crushed the core in the demon and with an echoing scream while it's body turned to rubble and then to mist.<br><br>As the clawed hand faded from his body Kamui collapsed to his knees coughing and wheezing for breath. It had done quite a bit of damage but thankfully he would recover. Five dagger like stab wounds had made a perfect circle around his cold heart, a victory that was far too close for comfort. Slowly regaining his thoughts while the void above them closed the Vampire managed to catch his breath before remembering the detective. Ebony locks fell from the tail that draped over his shoulder, trying to obscure his view while turning his gaze behind him to see if the woman was alright. <br><br>Hell neither of them were alright, but they were better than dead which was more than Kamui had expected of this outcome.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 16:24:30</strong>
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				The wall had become her new best friend. It was there to catch her this time before she could fall; it was supportive even as it had groaned in protest and sympathy against her impact as plaster rained down on her like encouraging pixy dust. She didn’t leave her crumpled state once the tension evaporated in the air, but part of that was because the detective was still stunned where she sat, blinking around mottled gray that swarmed her vision like the infestation of angry hornets. Everything hurt, her headache from before was an angry train’s whistle in her skull, and the flow of blood that welled from her scalp was an annoying warm trickle that flowed down her face, blinking one eye and itched along the skin.<br><br>That had been fun. Fun in the same way surgery was fun, and losing your car keys in an emergency. Fun in the way that getting a flat in a severe storm was fun, like the time she was driving through Oklahoma and surprise, there was a tornado and wouldn’t luck have it, she couldn’t out run it with three wheels and slick conditions. At least that time she had only ended up with minor cuts and bruises. Now? Well she was pretty damn sure she had at least one broken rib. It hurt to breathe and she could almost feel a crease in her skin from where the lip of the stairs had impacted her. Her jacket had managed to offer some protection from scrapes, but she was pretty bruised up, and her hands were torn to make up the difference.<br><br>All fingers were there, but they shook from adrenaline and pain, the bone of her left index visible if she were to look down and inspect the damage. She was smarter than that. If she looked they would hurt even more than they did now, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was going to manage staying conscious for much longer, anyway. She rode that fine line between shock and awareness, ready to tip either way.<br><br>But the man was alive, with his strange crimson eyes and his unnatural speed. She had to remind herself that he had saved her life, not because she had forgotten, but because he seemed more dangerous than the strange beasts that had attacked them. The light had returned in the corner, but it seemed like a pale, weak thing that lacked warmth and certainty. Sorta like how she felt right now.<br><br>“You alright?” She croaked, struggling to take a deep breath of air as she winced around the ache in her ribs. He looked okay, covered with gore like she, but he moved a little easier than he probably should.<br><br>Where’d the gun go? Maybe she didn’t care, it hadn’t been hers in the first place, and she never had been a fan of the Glock.<br><br>What a mess… She didn’t dare think about the paperwork that would be involved with this. Remembering that, she reached slowly in her pocket, gasping from the strain as she reached in her pocket and pulled out the obliterated blue tooth. It took her several seconds to work her broken fingers correctly, then twice as long for her to register the fact that it hadn’t survived her fall down the stairs. Her laugh was weak, but honest. “Glad I got the warranty…”<br><br><em>Better get moving before you can’t. Back to work, Ashton!</em> “Y-You… okay?” Her lips twisted, pulling downward as adrenaline faded and misery settled in. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.” Nope. Standing wasn’t happening now, and she dropped the broken Bluetooth to the floor so that it would join in with the rest of the destruction. “I’m pretty s-sure tomorrow will be a sick day…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 01:43:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">It seemed that the walls had become overly fond of the two, especially the officer. Kamui was currently becoming well acquainted to the floor while bracing himself on his hands and knees, watching the blood drip from his torso and pool onto the ground beneath him. The pain was quickly becoming unbearable and his vision was starting to leave him. The Detective was likely in the same position if not already unconscious or dead. No he could still feel her presence in the room, but he couldn't move, couldn't bother to look over his shoulder as his aura pulsed around him and tried to fix the damage that was there.<br><br>He was bordering dangerous now. The power that he tried to suppress could fix him quick and easy, but unfortunately he couldn't do that yet. Not here, not with people around. He would loose control and end up doing who knows what in the process.<br><br>Well he knew what, which was exactly why he didn't.<br><br>Nails started to turn into claws and the room began to grow dark again, his eyes flashed between sapphire and ruby and back again. Kamui was the only remaining oddity to the madness that had recently broken out in the room. The demons vanished and their essence sucked into the void along with Jacob Forelli's battered soul, though his body still remained in a mangled heap upon the floor... And across the room. His fingers curled, splintering the floor as he shuddered a shaky breath, but more of a wheeze and groan than anything else really. The warm liquid dripped down his chin to join the puddle he knelt in and just as the pain began to overwhelm him he froze. Ears twitching at the sound of a woman's voice.<br><br>All at once it seemed like his aura faded, claws returning to normal an his crimson eyes finally settling into their sharp crystalline hues. He couldn't do that with her still in the room, he couldn't hurt the woman he had tried to protect. A sigh fell from him and his body seemed to relax. The blood wasn't stopping and his skin seemed more pale than before. Slowly sitting back on his heels he coughed and spluttered before turning to her, a shy hand over his mouth as the blood trickled down his mouth. He was a nasty mess and apparently she was in no shape to be moving.<br><br><strong>"Fine. But... But don't move you've probably punctured a lung."</strong> It was quite a laugh really. Kamui had five nicely shaped stab wounds in his chest that easily punctured a few organs and here was a man, who looked human, worrying about someone else. It looked odd, or even comical probably, but he couldn't be bothered with other thoughts now. She was still in danger if the summoner was still around and her wounds would likely end up more severe if he didn't treat them as soon as possible.<br><br>Slowly getting to his feet he knelt in front of her, his hand reaching to brush the loose strands of hair from her face and look into her eyes.<br><strong>"Concussion, blunt trauma and a decent split..." </strong>He paused, his hand moving to her hover over her chest where the rib had likely caused it's damage.<br><strong>"Three fractures and... Yeah, a punctured lung."</strong> Kamui frowned, his pale lips pulling in a tight line as he looked at her mottled hands. Bruises of all colours, red from blood, and he could see the white of bone which was a problem. Broken and shredded ligaments seemed barely able to function which didn't surprise him.<br><br>A heavy sigh fell from him, the taste of copper making his tongue sit awkwardly in his mouth.<br><strong>"My name is Kamui. I'm...I'm sorry you got pulled into this." </strong>It was all he could really say as he knelt there beside her and debated on his next move. He could leave her and give an anonymous tip as to her location but by then she'd probably be dead. Not only that but Jacob's body would be awfully difficult for her to explain on her own. His last option wasn't his fondest but if he took her home with him Kamui could explain and she would have a better time repairing... With his own methods of course.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 05:17:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So… he had a face, and a handsome one at that. It took a few seconds longer than Ashton would have liked to focus her eyes, and a few determined blinks to chase off the gray dots that kept threatening her vision, but here he was kneeling before her, face pulled into an expression that said he wasn’t pleased with what he saw. Maybe he wasn’t a fan of the freckles that splattered across her nose, or the soft gray of her eyes that were currently tight with pain. Maybe the man preferred blondes, and here she was with raven hair that fell well past her shoulder, silky despite the gore and plaster that had tried to make her presentable. How could it be that she was feeling suddenly self conscious? But she was. She was almost embarrassed to be covered head to toe in violence, shivering in the chill of the room and trying to breathe with one lung through a mouth thick with blood. It wasn’t her best day ever.<br><br>She smiled, or tried to. Blood was trickling down the left side of her face, blinding her eye, while tears welled up on the other side, tangling in her thick lashes. She really wasn’t feeling too good, and he looked like he wasn’t feeling much better.<br><br>“Cow… moo-reh…” He made the name sound more elegant than her lame tongue. Her she butchered it, slurring over the word as if she were just learning how to shape sounds with her tongue. “Nngh… You need a Band-Aid.” Her right hand, the one that was less torn up than the other, lifted to press against his chest, just to the side of his wound. It looked deep, serious, and certainly the sort of wound that shouldn’t allow the man to kneel as easily as he was. With brows pinching with concern, Ashton applied pressure with her palm and took a shaky breath. This man needed first aid. Hell, they both needed a hospital, but it was a wonder that he was still alive. She knew the color of blood leaking out of his chest meant at least one major artery had been hit.<br><br>But what help could she be? Her phone was destroyed, as well as her gun. She had little more than a badge on her and she would never make it to her car. With the building being deserted, their situation looked bleak indeed.<br><br>“You need to get to a hospital.” Ah… there was the fear. She felt it prickling at the back of her neck, fluttering her already erratic heartbeat in a way that caused a shameful whimper to escape her throat. She was scared, and while some rational part of her brain told her that she had every right to be, she knew that at least one of them had to survive. <em>Should have stayed in the cold car. Should have bought coffee at the 76. Should have taken that vacation to Iceland instead of pulling overtime in order to ignore the sad excuse of a social life…</em><br><br>Talking was growing difficult. Her voice cracked, rising in pitch as she struggled for the air needed in order to fill her lungs. Why did it have to be so damn cold out? “My car… It’s p-parked in the alley. Break th-the window… use the…” She swallowed, struggling to focus her eyes once again on that handsome face. “…radio. Nngh… Get… you help.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 06:36:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Icy eyes pierced through the darkness, the flickering lamp casting strange shadows over his face; but apparently that was appealing to the young woman. Oh yes, he knew what she was thinking, or rather he could tell. The way her heart had skipped in it's broken cage as her eyes seemed to lock onto his. But those were thoughts that he didn't have the privilege to, forbidden actually as was their mere contact. Well, it should be at least.<br>Her smile caught him off guard, supple lips trying to curl into reassurance it seemed while her mouth tried to form his name. Sapphire eyes widened before he barked an honest laugh, the sound deep like rum and honey as it echoed in the room.<br><strong>"Just about."</strong> He smiled watching her as she pressed her hand to his chest as if to stopper the wound from bleeding out. His smile vanished and his face was replaced with awe and confusion. She was worried about him? That didn't make a whole lot of sense, but logic stated that any human should have been dead by now if he were anything less than a Vampire. Thankfully that wasn't the case and he would be fine with the aid of time and rest.<br><br>This officer however was another matter entirely. The use of one lung was difficult and dangerous, she needed help faster than driving to the opposite end of New York. Yes he needed a hospital, but not for the same reasons she did. Shaking his head to disagree a few locks of ebony fell from his face&nbsp; to curtain his view. Tucking them behind his ear carefully moved her hands into her lap just as she began to speak again.<br><br>His suspcions were verified when she mentioned her car. So she had been staking out the place to get to Jacob. Glancing over his shoulder at the mangled corpse of said man he shook his head and sighed. A terrifying way to go, and the screams echoed in his mind even now. They always did.<br><strong>"You worry about yourself Miss..."</strong> He replied, as he reached forward to hook his arm under her knees and then around her back to support her as best he could. Holding her like a bride he winced and scrunched his nose as he felt the muscles in his shoulders tear. That was going to be an issue.<br><br><strong>"I'll tell you what," </strong>He said suddenly taking a step towards the door and heading down the stairs. The wheeze of her voice was starting to worry him and in due time he would not doubt that her lungs would start to fill with blood and she would be lost.<br>"You take a nap and when you wake up, this will be all taken care of." The Vampire smiled and looked down at her, icy eyes flashing red as his aura surrounded them. Before she could refute him the woman had fallen unconscious just as their bodies melded with the darkness and they fled from the building.<br><br>Many people thought the darkness to be cold and harsh, unforgiving and isolating. To Kamui it was anything but. The darkness was a blanket, warm and comforting, it lulled him to sleep as he listened to the Night Mother sing. He was sure Ashton could hear it too. Arriving at their destination did not take long but it had been incredibly exhausting to take a second party with him. It didn't matter though, now he was somewhere safe and he could help fix the injuries.<br><br><br>Walking up the vine covered stone stairway to his home the large wooden doors of his manor opened with welcome upon sensing his presence. Entering the foyer he went straight to the back wall where at first nothing could be seen. As he got closer another set of double doors appeared, waiting for him between a split grand staircase, one on his left, and his right. Those doors opened as well and revealed a dark passageway that seemed to go far under ground, the tap of his boots echoed in the stone corridor and the torches on the wall lit just before he reached them. It took a minute or so but eventually they came to another hall with an old wood and iron barred door waiting for him. A heavy sigh fell from him when he reached it an upon entering the room he was greeted with a refreshing aura.<br><br>The room was entirely made of stone, four large roman pillars surrounded a pool of water. A beautiful mosaic of the Tree of Life was crafted in coloured tiles. As he carefully approached the pool he took a cautious step forward and began walking over the surface of the water till he reached the center. Looking up he smiled at the stained glass window of the same Tree of Life that was reflected int he pool beneath his feet, and before he could waste anymore time Kamui gently placed her body in the water and let her float gracefully.<br><br>Her blood mingled with the water as it swirled around her hands and head like a cloud. He was careful not to get his own blood mixed into it for fear of ruining the magic he was about to perform. Quickly getting out of the way he moved to a pedestal that was at the North most end, positioned between two of the pillars. There, two candles were lit and an ancient tome opened with an unseen hand. Holding one hand over the book his hues changed to their bright ruby colour just as his nail pricked his palm and a fresh drop of blood fell into the pages. Words that had not been heard in centuries were chanted, echoing in the room as the blood followed his will.<br>With this magic Kamui was able to control the blood in her body just as he could in his own. A useful gift if one were in a predicament such as their own. A wave of his hands and the blood in the pool swirled about her body finding their home back into the wounds of her skin. Her lungs were a tad more difficult but with time he was able to at least fix that injury above all else. Time would heal her ribs and bandages and salve would fix her cuts and bruises.<br><br>When all was said in done Kamui collapsed to his knees breathing heavily as sweat beaded his brow. It had been a long time since he had to perform magic like this one anyone other than himself. Hopefully it wouldn't become a habit. Righting himself swallowing the blood that dried in his throat Kamui plucked her from the pool and made his way back up the stairs where she would be bandaged and clothed into something more comfortable. It was against his better half, but his logic stated that she would not be comfortable in wet clothing. So as he scaled the staircase and went down the hall to his quarters Kamui placed her upon the rug in front of the fire as he moved around to gather the items he needed. <br>Bandages, salve, tonic, and clothing, all of his own making. Except the clothes of course. He spent his time being gentle and stripping her down to her underclothes, carefully peeling the shirt and jacket from her form as her body began to dry in the warmth of the fire. His eyes narrowed on the badge that rested on her chest.<br><strong>"Ashton McKlane..."</strong> He whispered softly a smile spreading across his lips with a slow sigh.<br><br><strong>"Quite a mess you've gotten yourself into Miss McKlane."</strong> Kamui muttered continuing with the process of bandaging and clothing her. Before long she was completely bandaged and dressed in a rather large white nightshirt that had obviously been his own before being placed into his own bed.<br>He had debated using a guest room but they were likely covered in webs and dust, not really the best place for a recovering woman. Or any woman for that matter. Instead she was placed in the center of a large four poster king bed, complete with a black curtained canopy and soft feather down comforter. Jet black sheets accented with silver embroidery and crimson pillows. It seemed quite luxurious really and it would hopefully offer her a good sleep.<br><br>Kamui on the other hand busied himself with tending to his own wounds in a much less graceful way. A nasty shower accompanied with an hour or so of awkward bandaging for the entirety of his torso. Seeing as both his shoulders had a pair of lovely puncture wounds from the grip of the reapers, along with the gash from Miss McKlane's first close encounter. Then there were the lovely wounds in his chest that followed through to his back. Already it seemed to be healing but the blood wasn't stopping, and that worried him. So with a few layers of bandages and a tonic of his own making Kamui dressed himself in a simple pair of black trousers and a black dress shirt to hide the mess of his own body.<br><br>When all was said and done he would be seen reading in front of the fire, his hair cascading around his form like a fall of silk. The fire illuminating his pale skin which held a stark contrast against the black of his clothing. He stood out quite well on his peppermint sofa. A white set of couches and chairs accented with purple-wood support and red pillows with tassels. A large wooden coffee table with a stained glass centerpiece held a few books for his own entertainment and a warm set of tea waiting to be drank.<br><br>He hoped she was recovering all right. Every so often Kamui would move over to her bedside and open the curtains that surrounded her to reveal a heavily sleeping woman. Her breathing had regulated and sounded less harsh now, it told him that the immediate danger of her punctured lung was no more. At first he had sat by her side for nearly an hour before he had forced himself to take care of himself. <em>She wasn't going anywhere</em>, he had to reassure himself time and time again.<br><br><em>For now at least.</em></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 07:46:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She would start her assessment with the toes; they had mostly been untouched by the attack, protected by her well worn boots just as they were meant to do. These were bare now, yet warm beneath the heavy sheets that draped her body. Her legs were next, bruised by the heavy weight of the hell-hound when she had been dragged across the hall. These were dark shades of blue and purple, radiating heat where the blood pooled beneath the surface of her skin and tender to even the soft touch of silk. What scrapes and cuts she had accumulated there were healed now, even if the aches remained. A small blessing.<br><br>Her tailbone felt bruised. Her back was in a state of agony that protested with muscle spasms and a dull, bone-deep ache. The punctured lung sat whole again, causing her chest to rise and fall in an easy rhythm that suggested comfort within their confines of the borrowed shirt, yet the comfort would only last as long as this sleep. Whatever spell she had been put under was strong, allowing her the time to mend when she might otherwise drift off into a miserable haze. So while the vampire sat and sipped tea, milling the hours away in warm room, Ashton remained his silent companion until her body was able to break through the rhythms of the spell, capable of handling the task of healing for now.<br><br>Her head hurt. That was the first thing she noticed when sleep burned away and thoughts began to fill her head. Ashton’s skull felt as if the bones were splintered in places, crushed under the force of a great pressure in her temples. Her once peaceful face twisted with a grimace just as a moan rolled passed her lips to flutter about the draped canopy that surrounded her. <em>Head… ribs…</em> “… fuck.”<br><br>It was an entirely appropriate word. Everything fucking hurt. Her fucking head. Her fucking hands. Her fucking shoulders. Even her fucking memories seemed to shy away at her insistence to use them. She knew something horrible had happened, something worth forgetting, but as soon as she realized that forgetting could be a good thing she remembered everything all over again. Fear raced through her veins, a gasp parted her lips and the detective bolted upright in the sheets before logic could suggest otherwise.<br><br>This of course sent a new string of curses and hissed pockets of air to erupt behind the heavy drapes, but Ashton couldn’t figure out which had startled her the most. The reality of her curious position, the sudden and nauseating rush of pain, or the dark she found herself cocooned in. The dark never frightened her before, not even when she was a little girl. But now she couldn’t help but dark her eyes to every corner, expecting to see shades deeper than black and glowing eyes like hot coals. There was nothing there, but she knew she wasn’t alone.<br><br>Instincts told her who it was before she could even peek out from behind the curtains. It explained a few things. Sorta.<br><br>She pushed the blankets from off her lap, moving as if she aged eighty years, and struggled to get herself to the edge of the bed. Plush, comfortable, it was far better than anything she had ever slept in before. But why did it have to be so damn big when moving just an inch hurt so damn bad? Wish a sloppy push she batted a curtain aside, relieved to feel the warmth of the fire stretching out to greet her, chasing away the shadows. Ashton breathed a sigh of relief.<br><br>“You’re not dead…” She felt dead. Alive… but dead. The borrowed shirt she wore was more like a nightgown on her form, the sleeves far too long and the hem brushing a few inches above her knees. It was pooled just below her waist where she sat, exposing her bruised legs and their pale skin, as well as a the dark blue boyshort panties she wore beneath. The detective needed a few seconds to catch her breath and to find a position that didn’t hurt so much.<br><br>How much time had passed? And what the hell was she doing here, and not at a hospital?<br><br>She wasn’t brave enough to try standing yet. For now, Ashton was content here on the edge, but was contemplating the perks of simply lying back down in the bed and not moving again for the next thirty years. “What… what’s going on?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 08:30:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">He had been enveloped in his book as usual. It didn't take much for Kamui to become enthralled with some adventurous tale or mysterious story. It was either that or a book on the modern day. Even though it looked like the majority of his books were old and worn with time occasionally you may see a book of studies. Something about language or criminal minds. Really there wasn't a single book you couldn't find in his home, and he could prove it if you only saw the library in the West wing. <br><br>Kamui had possibly dozed off a time or two, thankfully his cup had either been empty or on the table in front of him. His body was trying to recover, but it was slower than he would have liked. Halfway through Ashton's little sleeping spell he realized that his body felt strange. Having placed his hand over his chest he felt it, the wet damp cloth soaked with his blood. He hadn't been too happy about that and spent some time cleaning his couch before having changed and re-bandaged his body. The pain was a dull annoying ache now that was accompanied occasionally by a sharp pain here and there, but he would live. <br><br>However the constant worry that settled in his mind was no longer for the recovering detective, but for himself. It had been many years since he had taken damage like this to the point where his wounds wouldn't heal fast, or not at all. So he had spent an hour mulling over what could have gone wrong. It wasn't as if his diet had changed in the last few millennia so why would he be bothered to change it now? With many frustrated sighs and hair pulling Kamui had settled on another book before finally giving his body some time to settle.<br><br>It was the shift in the aura that alerted him of his guests awakening. Soon after followed the groaning and swearing which brought a smile to his face. It was a good sign, better than silence at least. Gracefully he set the tea down and placed his book next to the platter ready to great her and explain a few things. That was another thing he had to rehearse in a mirror, explanations of the madness she had witnessed earlier that night. However when he heard the soft shift of blankets and then the wooden creek of his old bed Kamui startled quickly moving himself around the furniture and over to the bedside where he waited quietly.<br><br>When the curtains were moved to reveal a rather exhausted looking woman Kamui couldn't help but take a step back to give her space.<br><strong>"Not dead?" </strong>His tone a mix of question and assurance, unsure if it had been directed to herself or him. It was a reasonable question to ask, after having gone through the insanity she had witness one could easily think that were in Hell. Well, Kamui hoped his home had smelled a little better and didn't give off the impression of death and fear. <br>When the detective asked her question he idly wondered if he could get away with lying, saying that she had been attacked by something a little less terrifying. It wouldn't take long for her to remember the demons though, and she would start asking the questions he loathed to answer.<br><br><strong>"Here."</strong> He picked up a small vial next to the bed and uncorked it before handing it to her. <strong>"It will help with the pain."</strong> She could refuse of course as any sane person would do to a stranger, but if this 'stranger' wanted her dead, he would have rid her long ago instead of taking care of her and putting her up in his own bed. Icy eyes stared down at her while he waited for her approval, the ebony hair cascaded down his shoulders like a shall of silk till it eventually stopped at his hips. This time it wasn't tied back and although the look was slightly strange to see in this day and age, it looked rather befitting for a tall man like himself.<br>Sometimes he had been accused of being intimidating though in truth he was really quite a gentle giant.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 09:06:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damn… there was his handsome face again. And that chiseled jaw that she found herself growing fond of.&nbsp;What she discovered to be more captivating than his jaw were his eyes, even in the dimly lit room the fire light caught hold of them, turning the depths of his soul into blue flame. <em>When did you get all poetic?</em> Ashton forced herself to break the spell, remember the pain, remembering the fear, and pulled it around her like a blanket. She didn’t want to experience these things, but at least she understood them better than the instant attraction she had towards this questionable man. She had too many unanswered questions as it was.<br><br>The detective dropped her gaze in order to look at the vile, thankful for the distraction. She must have hit her head harder than she thought, but it was impossible to resist the urge she had to squirm, even as those insecurities resurface, wondering the same things as before. What was his type? How awful did she look right now? <em>And why the hell do you care?</em><br><br>She popped the vile back, taking it like a shot. It certainly didn’t burn like a good whisky, but it did seem to floor her body with warmth almost the same instant it touched her tongue. Then she blinked, frowning down at the container when she realized that she had taken it without so much as a question toward the contents. The concussion, she decided right then and there, had damaged all of her common sense, reducing her to an aching, hormonal woman who did what she was told. <em>If only my ex saw me now…</em><br><br>Was his hair really that long? Was it as soft as it looked? Ashton frowned, allowing herself the luxury of such an expression before she lifted her eyes back up to the vampire’s. He was standing pretty close… not that she minded, really. There was a certain security in his presence she welcomed, one that helped chase the darkest part of the shadows away. No boogey men and their damnable dogs were lurking in the shadows, but she didn’t like having her back exposed, and she certainly didn’t like not having her gun. She licked her lips, then tried talking again, still not quite able to pull her eyes away from his. “You uh…”<br><br><em>Words of wisdom, those! Let’s try for another group worthy of print.</em><br><br>Silence. Ashton failed to do as much as squeak.<br><br><em>Bravo. Now let’s really win him over with this next genius outburst.</em><br><br>“You look good. Er… alive. Not dead…[/i] Mentally she face palmed, outwardly she winced. Somehow she didn’t think she could blame her foolishness away on alcohol; since it was pretty clear whatever it was she drank hadn’t been such. She tried one last time. “How are you still standing, and why aren’t I dead? Details, please…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 09:45:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Eyes widened as she eagerly took the vial with no questions asked. Well... That was a first. He smiled softly at her as she tried to get through the taste of licorice and barley a strange mix, and a concoction of his own. Thankfully it would only take time till the pain ease to a dull reminder and she would possibly even drift off into sleep again. Kamui watched as her eyes seemed to assess his physical appearance as if she was trying to understand if he were real or a dream; but with the way her heart skipped in her chest he figured there was another thing on her mind.<br><br><em>'You're a gentleman Kamui, act like it.'</em> His chided himself, eyes refrained from glancing at her exposed thighs while refusing to think about the fact that she was dress in 'his' night clothes. Shoving away the thoughts were easy for now and he made it look awfully easy, like he didn't care that he had a beautiful woman in his bed flustered just being in his presence. Pale lips curled into a smile and he waited for her to speak.<br><br>She tried and it failed. He furrowed his brows in worry, half tempted to ask her if she could go back to sleep till she had recovered just a bit more. But then she was trying again, a squeak this time and his lips smirked as he watched with amusement. Quite funny this one, he sincerely hoped it wasn't a side effect to his tonic he had given her.<br>Finally she spoke and Kamui couldn't contain the bark of laughter that slipped from him. It was unfortunately followed by a series of uncomfortable coughs and the blood that welled up in his throat was swallowed like a burning shot of alcohol. Thick and uncomfortable in his throat, it made him wince and turn himself away from her view. One hand placed over his mouth and the other hovering over his chest as if afraid to touch the cloth.<br><br>After a moment he turned to her, clearing his throat with a guteral sound before nodding. Right. Her question.<br>Pulling up a chair that had been stationed but the curtained windows he pulled it up next to her bedside and sat down. Afraid that any more time on his feet right now would put him on his knees.<br><strong>"I'll answer your questions just... Please, lay down and be comfortable. You're in no condition to be up and about right now."</strong> A strangers genuine show of concern may have been unsettling, but it was obvious it was genuine and not a facade of being a 'nice man'. If she decided to settle or not was up to her, but once she had made her choice he began to explain.<br><br><strong>"The reason I'm alive is because.."</strong> He was suddenly hesitant, nervous almost as he put his hands together in his lap before holding them out to her.<br><strong>"I can do this..."</strong> He moved his hands one on top of the other and continued to... separate a thumb from his hand. Actually it was a children's joke, and he was merely playing around, but he would chuckle and gauge her reaction to see where they stood. However he couldn't allude the questions forever, no matter what he did or didn't want to do.<br><strong>"Sorry, I get ahead of myself. But It's not entirely false."</strong> He began crossing one leg over the other before placing his hands in his lap, all flanges in place. <strong>"I'm able to sustain quite a bit more than the average being. Simply because... Well, I'm not human."</strong> Kamui didn't want to worry her with that statement alone and quickly raised his hand in protest before she shouted demonic nonsense at him.<br><strong>"I'm a vampire, much more eloquent than your run of the mill 'B movie' Hollywood film."</strong> There was the accent again, much more pronounced than before as if with the more passion in his voice the heavier it became. He sighed heavily and ran the same hand through his hair, the ebony locks falling against his cheeks as they fell back into place.<br><strong>"And you're not dead because, A: I saved you, and B: Jacob Forelli was their main target."</strong> The thought of the mangled corpse made him close his eyes and shake his head. Unfortunate that she had to see something so gruesome. <br><strong>"When I say 'their target' I mean the Demons of course. The supernatural which you had the misfortune of coming into contact with."</strong> He didn't want to overload her with the facts. The was an entire world that she was unaware of and he could easily overwhelm her with the details right then and there. For now, however, he would stick with simple answers unless she asked for more.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 10:43:10</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				You couldn’t hide details from a cop, at least not this one. Ashton may be many things, but injuries and confusion aside, she recognized the coppery scent of blood in the air and it didn’t take her long to piece things together. New shirt, rigid frame, the clothes he wore was, unfortunately, loose enough to hide the bulge of bandaging and not show off his chest. It was impossible <em>not</em> to wonder if it was as nicely shaped as the rest of him. Undoubtedly it was.<br><br>Still, even with her suspicions growing she couldn’t help but sag a little the moment he turned his back to her, as if the weight of his gaze persuaded her somehow. She was just exhausted, she reasoned, achy, drained… and going on a dry spell that was lasting longer than she would have liked. That happened when you were married to your career, yet apparently near-death experiences increased one’s libido. Was that so strange? By the time the strange man turned back around she was shaking her head as if to organize or clear some of her thoughts. She had to refocus. She had to be professional even if she was more eager to curl into the fetal position in that plush bed and fade away.<br><br>That’s when he dropped the bomb, leaving her frowning, flabbergasted, a little dumbfounded and… well she didn’t have a word for that other feeling. Whatever it was, it caused the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck to stand to attention. She didn’t believe that he was lying, yet it was impossible for her to take this as the truth. Had he hit his head somehow in the fight, causing him to live in a fantasy world of his own creation? No… there were no signs of trauma even this close, and his pupils were even. A code then? Some sort of cultish following or an overly dedicated social club? That didn’t seem right either, even if he was hanging out in strange places with the wrong type of people. Was he a predator then? The sort of man who fed women lies and abused them? <em>Why would a man who went through so much trouble to rescue me wish to see the opposite happen?</em><br><br>She reached out and cupped his cheek, her hand resting on his bare skin as if to check his temperature. He felt cold, not warm, but she couldn’t be certain who was initially responsible for that. “You should sit down,” caution edged her voice, bleeding out into her words as her brows pinched together with concern. “Jesus, how are you not in shock?” Should his hand lift to try and stop her it would only have been batter away. Ashton grabbed at his shirt, rising as she deftly pulled it open to expose his bandaged chest and the crimson that was staining through gauze. <br><br>“Well I suppose that disproves your vampire fairytale,” she muttered, wobbly on her feet as she positioned herself better to look at the wound. The cute ones had to be crazy, didn’t they? With a gentle shake of her head, Ashton sent her hair cascading down around one should, freeing up the side of her neck that was less bruised than the other. “Vampires are supposed to be quick healers I thought, and had pointy fangs and wore capes. You wouldn’t make a very good vampire, Moo-ey.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 11:21:47</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Maybe it was the way she didn't register his joke to ease the tension building in the air. Or perhaps it was the way she wouldn't break eye contact with him. Either way it made him nervous and that was a rare thing for Kamui to feel these days, let lone triggered from a Human. She seemed enthralled in his appearance and more then shocked at his claim of being a creature of the night. Though that was to be expected really, who would believe such an insane statement.<br>Frowning as she reached forward to cup his cheek the Vampire watched her closely, eyes filled with worry and sadness while she tried to figure him out. <br><br>All things considered Kamui felt right as rain and was thinking with a clear mind. Shock was not something he was experiencing right now. Many random emotions were hidden under his well trained mask, but shock was not one of them. But the woman was standing now and reaching for his shirt which startled him and he tried remove her hands from his person although she just batted him away like an annoying fly. <br><strong>"Wh-What are you do--" </strong>She tore his shirt open, buttons sliding from their holes as she tried to prove her point. <br>Maybe he was feeling shock.<br>But he could only frown disapprovingly and sigh, his chest rising and falling heavily under the thick bandages that supported his slowly healing frame. How could he explain to someone that couldn't hear the truth. Even with all that she had seen the woman would still deny his words. Shaking his head he glanced at the pale skin of her neck, unable to help the thoughts that sprung to mind before being stomped down by sheer will. Averting his gaze he stepped back, the heal of his bare foot catching the chair before he realized he couldn't back up farther.<br><br>He was slightly offended by her accusation and the partial use of his name, and he narrowed his eyes on her with a quick whip of his head as she shifted uncomfortably. Really Ashton should be lying down, not trying to prove the finer details of his life.<br><strong>"So be it Miss McKlane. I merely healed your body from the brink of death after you had a close encounter with the third kind. I suppose it's nothing to be too worried about." </strong>He was suddenly a snarky man ready to defend himself if need be, but he was exhausted and wouldn't press the matter further.<br><strong>"And it's 'Kamui'. Kah-mu-ee"</strong> He clarified before waving his hand dismissively. It didn't matter what she wished to call him, not really he supposed.<br><br>But half of him wanted to explain, fully in detail since she obviously seemed well enough to question and doubt him, plus get out of bed and move around- if only slightly. Heaving yet another heavy sigh the Vampire scooped up the young woman into his arms and set her on the couch he had been seated on only moments ago.<br><strong>"If you won't lay down at least sit down before you cause further damage to yourself."</strong> He mumbled taking a seat in a chair diagonally from her and buttoning his shirt. He would fix it later when he had a moment to himself or she fell asleep, but in the mean time he poured her tea in his favorite set and offered her a cup.<br><strong>"It's herbal, no caffeine so it won't agitate your headache." </strong>Whether or not she took the cup was up to her, but he went back to his own and sipped graciously to wash the taste of copper from his mouth.<br><br><strong>"How are you feeling?" </strong>He asked after a moment of silence peering with sharp eyes over the rim of his cup. Hopefully by now the medicine shou<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"></span>ld have kicked in, and her pain subsided, if not only a little.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 20:10:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was easy on the eyes, certainly, but Ashton found herself enjoying the gentle shifts of expression on his handsome face nearly as much as she enjoyed that jaw line. Her words were nagging at him, crawling under his skin like they were supposed to. Yet a depth of patience she wasn’t expected allowed him to brush off her tactless approach with no signs of a shortening temper. It seemed her attempts at finding information were working, just not to the depths she had hoped. So what did she know, then? Here she was with a man with money, clear in the décor and details of the room around her, favoring the lavish if not always most recent styles. He liked to wear black, and couldn’t blame him, really, because she liked the color on him as well.<br><br>What else did that give her? A curious name, one he didn’t like shortened nearly as well. <em>So we’ll shorten it, if for no other reason than because seeing his exasperation makes me smile.</em> The bandaged wound on his chest was a neat patch job, but it was still bleeding and threatened the ruin the handsome shirt buttoned over it. Just when Ashton was about to protest against his injury and tell him he needed to stop the bleeding, he picked that time to lift her from her feet and back into his arms.<br><br>She gasped around the sudden surge of pain, exhaling a shaky breath against his ear as she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed against the sickening rush. Whatever was in her stomach seemed to play search and destroy. At first the pain was overwhelming, causing her nails to bite into his shoulders as she whimpered into his hair, but it lasted only a few seconds before it warmed and seemed to melt away into a dull throb, better than Dilaudid had ever done for her in the past. And there was no sickening twist in her stomach as if she were on a rollercoaster, preparing for a big drop.<br><br>On the couch now, Ashton had to force herself to release her grip on him, looking a little pale and tight-lipped, but at least she hadn’t gotten sick. She was eager for the black nothingness sleep would bring. She took the tea if only to occupy her hands with something, but this way she wouldn’t be able to hide their shaking.<br><br>“Overwhelmed.” Came her answer. She thought it was entirely appropriate. The more time she spent away to collect her thoughts, away from the violence and adrenalin rush that forced her to react, the more confused she felt herself becoming. Exactly what did she just experience? Were they really demons summoned from nowhere, or had she somehow been pricked by some drug, causing her to see these illusions? No… it had been all too real; the foul creatures, the dog and her new unease towards the dark that even now caused the back of her neck to prickle. What she would do for a bright light and her gun tucked in her hand. What she would do to find herself surrounded by the few people she trusted, reassuring her that she hadn’t gone crazy.<br><br>She looked down at her hands, watching the liquid in the cup ripple as her hands trembled, but she couldn’t seem to pull the heat into her palms. Frowning, she set the cup down on the lip of the coffee table and inspected her palms by firelight. She had seen bone before, she remembered the white gleam, the way they hadn’t been able to curl into themselves completely, the way those gnashing teeth like a shark’s mouth had destroyed her Sig and made a ruin of her flesh. There were bruises, two of her fingers were swollen still, and only a few places were scratched. They hurt to flex and the two swollen fingers felt as if the joints had been replaced with mud, but there was no exposed bone. Her frown increased, pulling at her young face until it receded into the depths of her pale gray eyes.<br><br>She should be dead. She should be in a hospital at best, hooked up to all sorts of machinery that kept her body going. Ashton set her hands down in her lap but she wasn’t able to pull her expression into a neutral one. Somehow, somewhere in the night, something dramatic had changed. It all boiled down to one thing; she should never have left her car. <em>No… there was no way I would have missed those sounds even in the car… I would have gone in to investigate.</em> She had been on this case since she moved to the city. For six months these strange and unusual murders have become her obsession, her life, the only thing she focused on day or night.<br><br>Demons were a convenient answer, and certainly nothing that would hold up in court. Taking that route, she would have her badge removed and all of her previous cases would have to be excused, due to her sudden bout of insanity. Did she really believe this? Could she really trust what she experienced last night? But why not? She wasn’t alone, even if the man who sat across from her was claiming the impossible. Vampire. Like some horrible cliché. He fit the part; complete with hair she wanted to curl her fingers through and the perfect jaw line… Yet she saw no fangs when he spoke, and here he was bleeding with gauze on his perfectly shaped chest.<br><br>She was cold again, frowning deeply as she tried to find a comfortable way to accept the truth. She was pretty sure there wasn’t one. “So… you’re a vampire.” She tried testing the words out, not too fond of the way they tasted in her mouth. “You’re certainly filling in the cliché of the role…” Too handsome, with a voice that was too easy to listen to, Kamui even had eyes she found captivating that she currently tried to avoid. “So tell me what’s going to happen next. If you were going to kill me you would have already done it, or left me to defend for myself.” Which, clearly, would have been the easiest option for him. She hadn’t stood a chance. “You healed me, but you’re still injured yourself. I’m grateful… I mean I <em>am</em> grateful, but all of this is making me question my own sanity and I’m on the cusp of a breakdown.” Yep… warring emotions were already boiling inside, fighting to see who would bubble over first. “I’d like not to embarrass myself but I’m pretty sure I’m going to start freaking out.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 23:36:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Kamui had tried to be gentle upon picking her up, but it seemed that even his gentle touch was a bit much no matter how fluid his actions had been. Her fingers dug into his bandaged shoulders and he couldn't help but twitch in reaction. It was strange to see the man move around without making a sound, his clothing didn't make noise as he shifted and neither did his feet. His movements were elegant however, precise and careful in everything he seemed to do. Which was amazing considering the fact he should be a trembling mess with the damage of his body. But thankfully the tonics were taking care of that for him, he would have to make more soon at his rate though.<br><br>As he sipped his rose coloured tea the icy eyes watched her shaky movements assessing what would need to be done next for her recovery. More tonics, perhaps a bit more salve for her bruises, and sleep. Lots of sleep. Part of him hoped that the sleep was really helping and that the soothing sound of a fire and the welcoming embrace of darkness helped her recovery. The other part of him said that the darkness only helped him and that this woman before him would not enjoy it as much as he.<br><br>Finally setting the cup down in his lap he nodded at her statement. Overwhelmed was a reasonable reaction he supposed. His day to day life had not changed in for the last few months when this fiasco came to light, and nothing for him was out of the ordinary. She was human however, and his life was nothing but fantasy and wildly spun tales to entertain the listener. <br>Kamui did not have that luxury.<br>For three months he had been searching, fighting, and searching some more. The same questions of 'Who' and 'What ' repeated over and over again till he was blue in the face.<br><br>Only hours ago he had been close to his target, the Mister Forelli that would give him the contact information he needed to finish the case of 'Who'. Unfortunately that was nipped in the bud before he had a chance to get what he needed. Although... Perhaps a visit to the man's home would reveal something instead. Suddenly lost in thought for a moment his eyes had settled on the woman across from him but he thinking more than watching her.<br><br>Ashton moved then and she seemed suddenly taken by her own hands. Brows knitting slightly he watched as she examined her skin and tested her flexibility. He understood after a moment, face settling into realization before taking another sip of his drink. The Detective's hands had taken quite a bit of damage. Lacerations from enormous Hell-Hound teeth along with several breaks, dislocations, and a puncture wound or two. He had bandaged and heavily salved her hands, checking in on the recovery every so often. It seemed like they healed the quickest. Perhaps cause there had been more blood to be used during the ritual? He didn't quite know how to explain that one himself, but as long as she didn't strain her hands too much she would be back to speed in no time.<br><br>Setting the cup down on the coffee table he noticed her body began to shake a bit more than he'd like to admit. Shock was settling in along with the cool air of the room mixed with the heat of the fireplace. While she was distracted with her thoughts the Vampire moved across the room, grabbing a blanket that had been folded along the foot of the bed he made his way to stand behind the couch so he could drape it over her form. Meanwhile he tried to think of a way he could explain without sounding insane to a human.<br><br>Nope. That wasn't going to happen. <br><br>A sigh fell from his pale lips while he made his way back to his seat, perhaps he should start with himself before explaining the demons. Something in the flesh for her to believe. <em>Don't go overboard you fool... She doesn't wan't you to drink a gallon of blood or perform a magic trick... Something light, easy on the eyes perhaps...... Oh.</em> His thoughts were interrupted by a simple breakthrough in his own mind and Ashton's words of her own realization.<br>Indeed he was a Vampire of old blood and yes the home he lived in was that of Victorian origin with a bit of castle touches thrown together. His tastes were neat however and extremely expensive. That of royalty one could easily assume upon looking at the large oil painting that hung over the fireplace or the Royal Albert tea set they were drinking out of. Not to mention the French chaise that was across from him on the other side of a wooden and stained glass coffee table. Hell, beneath their feet was an antique Persian rug nearly two hundred years old and the tapestries that covered the walls were well over that age.<br><br>So yes, Kamui enjoyed a few of the finer things in life. One of them happened to be for his comfort and the other for his aesthetic enjoyment. What the Vampire didn't enjoy was killing people and apparently that was what Ashton had expected from him. He couldn't be shocked though as her stereotypical assumptions of him and his kind were expected no matter how much they bored him. Upon admitting her own weakness however. Well, that he hadn't expected. From his experiences in the past humans were never one to admit weakness no matter what they were doing it seemed. However Ashton had outright said that she was basically about to go into shock. A frown marred his face, she had put the tea down too early for the other medicine to take effect.<br><br>Kamui was sure she already was though and handling what was happening rather well. All things considered. He'd applaud her if it didn't look strange or worsen her headache. <br><br><strong>"The only way to explain is to show you I suppose."</strong> He said suddenly with an exasperated breath. He would have to summon the power from who knows where, but he would manage somehow.<br><strong>"After getting us to safety and healing your body, I'm afraid I don't have much of that 'Vampire' left in me right now."</strong> It was a quip, but it was far too detailed to explain the fine lines of his meaning. So instead he ground his teeth and closed his eyes, focusing on the smell of her blood, the thrum of her heartbeat and the darkness that empowered him. The room almost dimmed as the shadows shifted uneasily as if they were stressed. It happened rather quickly, and his eyes suddenly snapped open to reveal crimson hues and his mouth pulled into a toothy smirk with complete with a pair of long sharp canines.<br><br>It didn't last long though because as he seemed to settle in the calm of his transformation he shivered, crumpling into himself slightly while resting his elbows on his knees. The Darkness was a curse and a gift. One that could be used frivolously if they were healed enough to do so. The ancient magic was what had drained him most of all though, the use of his life essence to bring her back from her own brink of death. Thankfully they had both come out on top.<br>A chuckle came from the hunched figure, his raven locks cascading over his shoulder like a curtain to hide his face from the light of the fire. Slowly he sat back up and leaned back against the love seat he sat on, perspiration began to form on his brow and his once sharp eyes seemed duller than before, and shallow. Rimmed with sleeplessness and pain. Perhaps it was a bold move on his part if not a little stupid. Kamui would regain his strength though, it would just take time. As everything did.<br><br><strong>"Kamui Eaurahgar.." He began with a mock bow. "My people traditionally would give a name, title, and/or rank. Before you ask, I have neither."</strong> It was a lie, everyone of his people had a title, but she wouldn't know the difference. Letting that tidbit out so early in their conversation was not wise. Besides, he had no idea if he would ever see the Detective past this little charade. Last thing Kamui wanted was word of his origin getting out to the wrong people. Granted he didn't think the woman would do such a thing, but caution was always a good thing to have.<br><strong>"You are Detective Ashton McKlane of the NYPD. Are you not?"</strong> He affirmed glancing over at her badge that sat on the nightstand by his bed. <strong>"I'm sure this little string of murders was a bit overwhelming at first. I'm sorry you had to see the reality of your small minded world."</strong> Another laugh, bitter, if not rude to his guest. But he apologized again and waved his hand dismissively.<br><strong>"Sorry, as I was saying. Vampires, Demons, Magic. All very much real. Since I used the ancient art to heal your body, I'd appreciate it if you didn't discredit my hard work."</strong> A genuine smile pulled at his lips as he rested on his elbows once again, this time with an uncomfortable grunt following it. A hiss escaped through his teeth as he looked up at her trying to gauge where she was standing in all of this even as he continued to explain.<br><br><strong>"We've been hidden as you can imagine. Though few exist these days, and even fewer that are pure blood."</strong> He rolled his eyes thinking about the idiot mortals that claim their 'Vampire' rights.<br><strong>"There are many kinds of my people, those that drink blood or feed on the energies of another. These things used to be done under contract you know. Not just 'because we were hungry'. Tch."</strong> He shuddered a sigh and turned his gaze to the fire, it's light making his sapphire eyes shine bright. <br><br><strong>"Demons are another thing entirely though. Summoned from the Circle of Hell by... Well, who knows what. Vampire, Human, Warlock, Priest. It's hard to say. That's why I was looking for the unfortunate soul of Mr. Jacob Forelli. He was clearly working with the Summoner since..."</strong> He cleared his throat unsure if he should mention the gruesome death of the criminal in fear it would trigger Ashton into a rather unpleasing moment.<br>So silence stretched as he waited for her to respond, wondering what other questions she could possibly wield for him. He hoped though that they didn't have to do with a billowing cape or a coffin he may have somewhere in his home.<br><br>In the back of his mind he felt a strange calm pop it's unwelcomed head. The type of calm that made you drop your guard or sleep in the arms of a lover. It was a calm that he shouldn't be feeling, one that had the barest hints of nostalgia and Deja Vu. Perhaps it had been her eyes, or maybe the ebony locks that pooled around her shoulders and framed her face in a way that made her look mature if not aristocratic like himself. No, that was the tea speaking. It must have been. Her physical features held no resemblance to that woman from so long ago. At least. That was what he told himself.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 04:39:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				It was hard to prepare herself for the unknown. Here she sat, draped in a blanket, shivering like a refugee who had just displaced the entire contents of her life and she couldn’t think of a time where she had been more pitiful. It was this display of weakness that frustrated her, reminding the woman that she was still young, that she still had a ways to go, but she couldn’t help but want to scream and rage and lash out. As if somehow that would solve all her problems, answer all of her questions and turn back the clock to the moment where she was sitting with a Styrofoam cup, lamenting about the grit in her teeth. How quickly life threw these curve-balls at us, changing everything along its course with no warning. All you were able to do, at times, was simply react and accept the changes for what they were.<br><br>She was trying. Accepting her new position as ‘enlightened human’ was a hard pill to swallow, but she tried to steal her resolve and tell herself that she was ready for whatever it was that this vampire was about to show her. The results were unnerving. Her sympathetic nervous system kicked in, flooding her veins with adrenaline, awakening the primal piece of her instincts that knew he was a predator. They told her to run, to hide, to pick up a weapon and defend herself, yet all Ashton did was winced at the toothy smile and feel a curious tug low in her stomach that she didn’t understand. Gone were his glacier hues, replaced by a flash of red that… well they reminded her too much of those eyes she was held under last night, the melted metal full of foul things worse than hate.<br><br>She was sweating now, nervous, on her feet before she realized she was standing and gripping the edge of the couch in order to keep herself from walking out of the room. He hadn’t threatened her, hadn’t done anything wrong, yet fear dominated forethought. <em>You had asked, he delivered, sit your ass down.</em> A sigh shuddered out of her lungs, but she couldn’t turn around and settle back on the couch. Not yet. How did she begin to describe to him that her source of fear was less about the vampire and more about… everything else?<br><br>She winced, passed a hand over her face and willed her shoulders to relax. They weren’t listening. “…sorry.” It was her time to apologize now, a soft word that had to contend against the pop and crackle of the fireplace. The hand that passed over her face drifted up to the back of her neck, wringing the tight knots that were forming near her shoulders. She needed a stiff drink.<br><br>But she wasn’t ready to move yet. <em>Its quite pathetic, what you’re feeling…</em> Yet here it was, as honest as instinct. How to explain? Was it even needed? Wasn’t it better to have this man expect fear from her? “I guess… Well I guess I’ll have a variety of scars from last night, both seen and unseen.” More admittance of her weaknesses, and she hated hearing it. But why lie? There was nothing to gain from it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I think it’s going to take some time for me to get over my sudden fear of the dark… and glowing eyes… and anything associated with that wretched hound.” The detective hugged herself, set her jaw, then turned her back on the dark, forcing herself to face Kamui and the fire.<br><br>“So someone summoned those demons… was it tonight?” Last night? How much time had passed? These thoughts were paired with another wince, not sure how she would be able to account for her time missing, the mess that was Jacob’s body or her missing weapon. More complications for an already difficult situation. She would work that out later. “I’ve been watching Jacob for the last three months. He was our prime suspect…” And now she had nothing. Even more problems to go with the rest. She didn’t know which she would address first. But again… she would work it out later. For now, she needed to get her answers from the vampire, and hope that gave her inspiration.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 05:32:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">He had watched her stand quite suddenly and feared that she would collapse if she over exerted herself. It seemed that she would be alright on her own for a moment. Which was good, cause he honestly didn't think he could stand up just yet. Kamui wouldn't apologize for letting her see the reality of his life, fangs or no fangs, she was getting into something far more mad than the simplicity's of his physique. It bothered him though and with a slow tired blink he watched her while his sapphire eyes assessed her body.<br><br>The visible tremble and the rise of her heartbeat, she was breathing heavier and the faint smell of perspiration hit his nose. Nervous then and probably not too fond of the dark. Ah. That would make sense he supposed after such an encounter. Above them was a large chandelier that hadn't been lit in many nights since Kamui enjoyed the soft light of the fireplace usually but that didn't stop him from accommodating for his guest. With a wave of his hand the several dozen candles were lit and the room seemed to brighten every nook and cranny of his room. <br><br>She may accuse him of using magic or that Vampire power of his, however the house answered his every beck and call like a close friend. The house sensed his need, and in turn Kamui took care of the halls and the books, granted he could probably dust a little bit more than usual. Though the manor knew he had been busy, just as the Detective was trying to solve this case of insane murders in the city. So it gave him some slack.<br><br>He wanted to tell her to sit down but it seemed Ashton was already arguing with herself internally. But then she was apologizing and explaining herself. At one point in his life he would have understood her fears so he wouldn't hold it against her.<br><strong>"It's shocking no doubt. Most humans are blind to this world and the workings of it. In a sense, it's more comfortable that way. Less trouble. Less death. Until now."</strong> He sighed and watched as she turned towards him curious to hear what she had to say.<br><strong>"Jacob may have been the prime suspect but he wasn't all we have to go off of. He was collaborating with someone, and he recently started meeting a man about a summer home on the West coast. I believe his name was Jax Callaway if I'm not mistaken."</strong> If he had the energy to shrug he would have.<br><strong>"It's somewhere to start."</strong> He concluded while gesturing to the bed. "You really should lay down... Or sit down even. You're not healed nearly enough to be walking."<br><br>The Vampire showed genuine care for the woman. One could assume that he didn't want her to die after going through the trouble of saving her life, but something in the back of his mind told him that there was more to it than just that. Kamui couldn't afford those thoughts right now though he realized they were surfacing more often than he would like to admit. Perhaps it was the way his eyes glanced at the hem of his shirt or the pale view of her neck for just a moment. Logic told him not to be stupid and to stay away from her, but his heart told him that being alone for so long would ruin his 'great' personality. A night of fun wasn't so bad was it?<br><em>Pay attention you imbecile! You are a dead man walking and she can hardly do that! What are you going to do? Woo her with your charm?</em> His thoughts were callous and biting to his idiotic ideas, but his brain didn't lie. Not this time.<br><br>He could feel the warmth on his usually cold skin. It was seeping through his bandages and the smell began to invade his senses. Shoulders and chest a bandaged bloody mess that would likely mess up his couch once again. So with a hesitant shift of his weight he pulled himself forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Oh. He would regret that later. Closing his eyes the man sighed lightly trying to refrain from moving any&nbsp; more if he could help it. Instead, he just spun the black and silver ring on his forefinger and tried to concentrate staying awake.<br><br><strong>"Do you want me to explain the Demons now... or... Would you rather we wait on that for now?" </strong>He was clearly cautious, not wanting to trigger or upset her further than he already had. Her shock and fear to his power was a dull reminder that the curse made him a monster. Nothing more. Nothing less.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 06:41:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She wasn’t overly fond with the idea of learning more about the demons. She was too tired, too scared and too far out of her element to handle that right now. Maybe later, when she was surrounded by daylight and accompanied by a priest who worshiped a god she didn’t believe in, and still didn’t believe in. If there is evil, surely there is also good. Here was an example sitting before her, a vampire who was less of an asshole than she would have expected. He had saved her life, showed her hospitality, and even this very moment he wasn’t pushing her or forcing her to take any more information than she was able to comprehend. A long life gave patience, it seemed. How old was he? Where was he from? These were all such common questions, yet her curiosity was far stronger now than if he had been a stranger off of the street.<br><br>With a heavy sigh, Ashton forced her shoulders to go slack and stood in the dim light, thankful for its abilities to expose dark corners. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted to crawl back into that plush bed and sleep until she didn’t hurt anymore. At least whatever concoction she had sipped took the edges off, reducing her broken ribs to a dull ache, rather than piercing agony.<br><br>She sighed again, then looked at Kamui for the space of a few seconds and licked her lips. He looked as tired as she felt, and while his handsome face was placid and calm, the man was hunched into himself, as if feeling the pain her body no longer contained. But his pain came from the injuries he had earned fighting off two demons. So why then weren’t they healing? And why hadn’t he worked his magic on his own wounds after he had rescued her?<br><br>She crossed the room on unsteady legs, away from the couch and the warmth of the blanket to stand before the vampire. She hesitated, not because of reluctance but out of respect. Not everyone enjoyed physical contact, and she wasn’t sure where the lines were with this man and his particular… curse? She placed her hand gently on his shoulder. “I’ll go back to bed. I’ll drink my tea. I’ll do whatever you suggest but only if you take your own advice.” Did she have his attention? Was he going to get embarrassed if she tried to help him again? Standing this close she could see the blood staining through the bandaging on his chest. She couldn’t be certain of how much time had passed since they left the bodies of the demons behind, but it was long enough. Too long.<br><br>“I’m assuming there’s a valid reason why you’re not getting any better yourself; I am, slowly, but I know I am. Does magic not work on you or do you need… something else?” Ah. And here the topic of blood finally came up. It was expected, it had to be, with all of those clichés what else would have surfaced? Why else did he have those fangs? But did that mean she was willing to open a vein for him if he asked sweetly? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think the man would hurt her. Not after all of the efforts he went through already. “Honestly. You look like shit.” <br><br>Okay, so that was a stretch. He looked stunning, she felt almost giddy standing next to him, but she could tell that he wasn’t feeling well. And she wanted to help.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 07:45:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">The warmth of the fire barely managed to warm his cold body. Strange that now of all times he was starting to hate the cold. Though his usual skin temperature was a little chilly. This was different. This chill was of death, and not because his well shaped form and unique traits called for it. The pale skin of his face seemed ashen and grey while the shine of his eyes began to become dull and lifeless. It was quite the change from his once vibrant hues and porcelain features. However this was not a bad thing. Unappealing sure, but not bad.<br><br>It was a sign of healing. Always starting at the bottom to work it's way out. His torso was trying to heal first. The punctured artery and the torn muscle. It was slow, but he would live. Like all recovery for this man it would take time, something that he could afford. A tired smile pulled at his lips while the detective seemed to come to her senses. It was a nice change of pace cause he didn't think he could keep answering the same question over and over again. Blinking up at her in amusement he winced as her hand landed gently on his shoulder. Oh, she was being gentle. Perhaps she realized the extent of his injuries now. Wait, that wasn't what he had wanted. Kamui didn't need a human woman trying to bark orders at him in hopes to make him feel better. <br><br>Humans were pretentious and thought they held the answer to everything. No, wait, that was the pain talking. It was finally settling in now. If he didn't go to sleep soon then he would be in trouble. <br>She was talking to him now, the words almost muffled by the sound of crackling flames. She wasn't ordering him around or trying to medicate him? That was new to him. Or rather, new to what he thought would have happened. Nodded carefully he removed her hand from his shoulder. The less contact the better.&nbsp; If he thought too much about how close she was right now, well... Things could get ugly really fast. So instead he concentrated on her questions which, to be honest, weren't much better.<br><br><strong>"The magic I performed on you doesn't work on me because there is no one but me to perform it."</strong> He clarified glancing at the fire before back up at her. It really wasn't that big of a deal. He would climb into a bed somewhere in the manor and sleep till he was recovered. It hadn't been the first time he felt this terrible. Hell he had done it missing nearly half his body. So really he couldn't complain.<br><strong>"Well that's rude."</strong> He mumbled, obviously not offended by her choice of words and instead the corner of his lips twitched as if to smile and he weakly brushed a strand of hair from his face to tuck it behind his ear.<br><strong>"All I need is time."</strong> Kamui assured her with a smile before looking over at the bed. <strong>"Now please. Go lay down before I take back my blood eh?"</strong> He let it slip, but unfortunately it meant something far different than she'd interpret it.&nbsp; He didn't notice the slip at first and instead closed his eyes as if confused by his own words, and suddenly she was looking at him funny.<br><br><strong>"No no no. I didn't infect you."</strong> He said suddenly eyes wide and waving his hands to defend himself. Cursing mentally he sighed and shook his head. <br><strong>"You don't literally have my blood. Just the power of it that is healing you. That's all."</strong></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>04-01-2015, 08:30:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashton had little argument left in her. This new world was a complicated thing filled with algorithms that used magic rather than math to solve. Magic had been a fantasy at the start of her day, now she was left feeling cold, drained of her very essence and so tired her soul hurt. So she said nothing else to Kamui, the hunched figure sitting with his back to the fire. A weary blink came her reply of his explanation with his blood, and all she could do at that point was turn around and shuffle back towards the inviting bed. Crawling back under the covers was easier than getting out had been, her ribs hurt less and her fear of the dark and unknown was replaced by fatigue. As soon as her head hit the pillow she closed her eyes and welcomed the numbing sleep that swept over her.<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>It was hours until she awoke. Ashton could tell not because of any clock on the wall or by peaking out through the curtains, but because of the stiffened-ache that had settled in her muscles from their lack of use. She drifted in and out of a light sleep for another hour until finally her mind refused to allow her any more laziness. Anxiety toward the next few days of her life removed the comforting warmth the bed had given her, and it was guilt-fueled by a little fear which finally had her sitting upright, wincing at her chest but feeling measurably better than before.<br><br>Kamui wasn’t anywhere to be seen, although she was grateful to note that he had left the lights on to keep the shadows in the corner of her room at bay. <em>How pathetic… You hadn’t been scared of the dark as a child. You run after dangerous men who shoot at you and tackle them to the ground. You were undercover for four months with a dangerous drug cartel and brought them to jail. But shadows…</em> She shivered, but swallowed against her fear and ventured out of the room. It was dark here as well, but silent and eerie in its silence. No heavy breathing of a vampire, no whimpered moans of some enslaved mind that the movies always advertised.<br><br>Her investigations were mild. Mostly she was after the time of the day, which was easily obtained by poking her head outside. The pale light of morning wasn’t far off, and her ability to ‘feel’ morning had less to do with vampires and more to do with primal instinct. At least two days had passed she guessed, which made her feel no better about her current situation. A cop didn’t just –not- show up for work and expect it to be overlooked. And they certainly didn’t abandon their unmarked cars in the middle of the night. “Fuck…” She was in trouble if she didn’t think of something and acted fast.<br><br>She was thirsty, her lips were dry and chapped and the thought of water instantly turned her towards the kitchen, but after three steps she stopped, pieces of her story already coming into place. It was best she didn’t drink anything, best to be as dehydrated as time would have made her. She hadn’t found any signs of Kamui, but she hadn’t searched every room in this mansion, either. She swore again, but decided against leaving a note. It’s better to leave behind as little evidence as possible.<br><br>She changed into her old clothes, as dirty as they were, but couldn’t help the lack of blood on her body. How to cover for that?<br><br>…Sean.<br><br>She swore again, but looked at the direction of the phone and wondered if this was really the situation she planned on blowing her expensive favor for. “Shit.”<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>The morning was cold. Snow had fallen, and her grubby clothing did little to keep her from feeling the chill. As much as she told herself that this was for her advantage, Ashton couldn’t help but feel miserable in the pale morning light, walking along the lonely road as if this were some walk of shame. In so many ways it truly was, without the benefit of a sexual encounter. But it needed to be done, and the time walking solidified her story with each and every step. Her ribs ached, her fingers throbbed with the cold in time with her nose and ears, but it was the bruise on her ass that was pulling with each step, sending sciatic pain into the back of her knee. This was the worst she decided, and allowed the pain to school her body, to play in her face and tighten her eyes until the familiar sound of an El Camino greeted her ears precisely where Sean had told her she would find him.<br><br>She had walked perhaps four miles, and as much as she wasn’t looking forward to the next part of her plan, well… she was grateful to see the black car pull to a stop in the middle of the road, windows rattling from the bass as some rap song played far too loud than she would like. <br><br>She stopped when the car parked, shifting her weight from foot to foot in the cold, her breath a ghost trying to leave her lips with every exhale. Finally, after nearly a minute the music was turned down and Sean stepped from the car. “You look like shit.”<br><br>He was a short man, but still taller than her by an inch or two. Stocky frame, bald head, and the sort of face that was handsome in a dangerous sort of way. Sean fit the profile of every action hero in the movies, but leaned closest to Bruce Willis in appearance. They shared the same smirk and love for cigars.<br><br>“I’m also frozen and probably feel worse than shit. You gonna let me in or are you changing your mind?”<br><br>“Hop in the car, kid.”<br><br>She did, not needing to be asked twice.<br><br>Inside the volume of the music was much more tolerable than when Sean had first arrived. She didn’t recognize the song, but she certainly felt no obligation or care to even try. Here the heat was on, thawing her fingers and nose, and when she settled into the chair with a grimace and a groan, Sean flicked the heater on his end of the car to her direction. They took off with no more formality than that. “So what happened?”<br><br>She was rubbing her hands together over the heat, once more licking her lips and wondered if Sean was worried about getting gore on his seats. Knowing him, it was a stolen car anyways. “You know Sean, I really have no fucking clue how to answer that question, and I was there.” She watched him from the corner of her eye watching her, a frown tugging on his lips. She felt it was appropriate. “But what did happen is one of those crazy scenarios that no one is going to believe, which is why I called you. I’m going to need help making my missing however-long-its-been look believable.”<br><br>“Three days.”<br><br>Ashton blanched, twisting to look at Sean with wide eyes and shock clearly written on her face. “Are you fucking-“<br><br>“Three days, and no, I’m not.”<br><br>Silence stretched on for nearly ten minutes. It was a longer drive back to the city than she had expected, which had been the main reason she hadn’t taken one of the cars or bike Ashton had spotted in the garage. Mentally she wanted to reseed back into her thoughts and not pay attention to her surroundings, but also she didn’t want to disrespect Kamui for his hospitality by stealing one of his own cars. And taking it would mean she would have to see him again in order to give it back. That hadn’t sat well either. She was fidgeting in her seat when Sean finally spoke again, trying to ease the achy throb shooting down her leg.<br><br>“I heard some radio chatter yesterday about you being missing. Seems they found a body destroyed like the others, and the corpse of some huge dog, though they couldn’t recognize the breed, and it was stolen from the lab they were keeping it refrigerated in.” Ashton shivered, frowning at what that implied. So… everyone has been wondering… what happened to Ashton McKlane? Why was her blood all over the crime scene with no body? They found your gun though, and your Bluetooth—what remained of those.”<br><br>“So… do you think my story is going to work?”<br><br>“I can make it more convincing.”<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>He took her to an old warehouse on Smith and Willis, down by the docks not far from the same 7-11 that had sold her the atrocious coffee. From here, they left the El Camino and the warmth it provided, to stand in a wide open room that once was a cannery of some sort. Sean knew his way around the place as if he had frequented it often, and with the dark stains that looked to new to be from the thirties and forties when this place was in operation, she had a feeling his frequency had been more recent.<br><br>His fist collided against her chest before she could react or even see it coming, and the shock of it was written over her face as his arm caught her, keeping her from collapsing to her knees. It was a good hit, solid and right on point. No doubt Sean guessed at the extent of her ribs by the way she had huddled in his car. “Breathe through it or you’re going to puke. If you puke I’ll have to scrub these floors and I don’t owe you that much of a favor.”<br><br>Air was sucked into her lungs with a rattling sound, pain dilated her pupils, but it began to ease and was nowhere near as intense as it had been with the hell hound. “You’ve got to look the part, kid. But I pulled the punch; you should only have one or two broken ribs… I had expected to need a couple more.” He helped her down to her knees, and when Ashton was able to breathe again she was rocked back with another blow, this one across her cheek, splitting her lip on her tooth. She couldn’t help but think of Kamui, and what he might be thinking about his fine healing skills being wasted on the likes of her. But Ashton wasn’t rocked nearly as hard by this punch, and felt the surge of adrenaline rush through her veins at the company of violence. She returned a vicious right-hook across Sean’s temple, knocking him flat on her back and stunned for a few seconds. When he picked himself off of the ground he was grinning, the bruise already beginning to blossom over his eye. “Now you’re getting the idea.”<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>On the fourth day of Ashton McKlane’s disappearance, a 911 call reached a tired dispatcher who sat at her computer, sipping coffee and flipping though a Home and Garden magazine to pass the time. She hadn’t understood the hesitant voice at first, and found getting information from him to be the equivalent of pulling teeth, but instead of hanging up on the man after nearly ten minutes of struggle, she was shocked to hear him claim to be in custody of an unconscious officer he had been trying to protect. Before she could getting more than a description of her condition and her location, the man hung up and couldn’t be reached again.<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>Carlos had demanded to be there. This was a call no one could have missed, covering all radio feeds through the city of New York, including the Fire and EMS departments. He arrived minutes after the ambulance, pushing his way through a curtain made up of patrol officers and forensics. Ashton was already loaded up on a stretcher, looking dehydrated, cold and just about as miserable as he would have expected. She was shifting uncomfortably where she rested, and greeted the man with a grin as he hoped into the back of the ambulance before it could take off without him.<br><br>“I thought I told you to watch your back,” he said, relief flooding through him visibly. The set of doors closed at his back, and a paramedic was playing with a chart and IV bag full of saline, which was dripping into a tube that was connected to Ashton’s arm.<br><br>“I did. But I got hit from the front.”<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>She felt horrible. Wretched. Rotten. She hated to lie. She hated the dramatics that were needed in order to come up with a cover story that would allow her to return to a world that no longer existed; the one before magic and demons and all things that went bump in the night. But it had been necessary if she was going to ensure she didn’t become some sort of target. This wasn’t a secret easily shared she was sure, and the less spoken of it the better. Let them believe that her unconscious body was found by a homeless man with altruism on his side. A homeless man who had no hair, an eye that was swollen shut and disappeared before the officers were able to take a complete statement. Scared away by the lights and attention they guessed. The rest was left for Ashton to fill in, although her recollection was foggy at best, and included being attacked by a strange hound she had killed with her own gun- explaining the empty magazine and the destroyed pistol. They took her to the hospital to do what they could for her, then released her after an over-night stay to ensure her health. When she finally was released and escorted back to her apartment by an every present Carlos, and all the formalities of the situation were taken care of, (she could never escape the paperwork,) Ashton settled in for the night with a movie, one that was her favorite, and some tea.<br><br>Perhaps now that that wretched experience was done with, she could continue on as if it had never happened…<br><br>… but that would mean she would have to stop thinking about that ebony hair, those piercing blue eyes and the foggy dreams she was having of that man that included less clothing and more teeth than she wanted to admit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meihartmann</strong> on <strong>19-01-2015, 22:35:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">She had thankfully taken his advice, one that he nearly insisted upon for the benefit of her recovery. The woman wasn't even half way healed from what he could tell yet she still insisted on walking about like an 80 year old cripple- which was more than he could do right now. He was in a bad way but he wouldn't admit it even over his dead body, a stubborn man with great pride and the will to do the right thing. In this case, look after a young human who needed his help. Even if it was to be told to sleep.<br><br>So when he heard the soft snoring of her unconscious body not long after, Kamui forced himself to his feet with much regret and made his way back downstairs. His trek down the corridor was difficult, swarms of black spots threatened his vision and his legs had tried to give out a few times, but eventually he managed his way down the same creepy hall from before. Stone walls, lit sconces, and a door that may not have been there before told him it was time to sleep for a while. Hands clawed at the walls for support as the large wooden door swung open to silently welcome him. The room was dark, filled with cobwebs hanging from an arched stone ceiling and an old iron chandelier hanging from wooden supports. It's candles were short and melted with tears and old age but had obviously not been used since residing in this room. Clearly this dark and damp chamber wasn't used often even though it held his bed. His bed being the black and silver coffin lying in the center of the room. <br><br>It's onyx surface was dull and cold like coal and ash, large for a man of his height and as he swung it open he revealed the pristine crimson silk. A most welcoming sight for a tired Vampire ready to sleep for the rest of his days, or at least that was what it felt like. Crawling into the coffin with a little trouble he managed to finally shut the lid and make himself comfortable. Unfortunately though the lingering thought of the woman upstairs in his quarters was keeping him from fulling falling unconscious. Kamui wanted to make sure she was alright every so often, but his body was far too comfortable to get up at this point. She would eventually figure out a way to get home, he did after all have a garage and vehicles for her to use. He had to blend in with humans after all, he couldn't be without a vehicle so far from the city. But as he began to think about the ways she could get home his fear of her needing help began to lessen and his body started to relax and ease into sleep.<br><br>It wouldn't be a long till he woke up again. Only a week actually, and he certainly wasn't completely healed. It was the smell fresh dust settling and the skitter of creatures in the night that told him he had been asleep longer than a few days but not nearly long enough. Cursing mentally he pushed open the lid to his coffin and rose painfully, not nearly refreshed from his short slumber and slightly nervous of the time that had gone by. Where was Ashton and did she manage to get home alright? Was she healed? Safe? Had she not had any issues since their previous encounter? Did her officers give her a hard time when she returned? There were so many things he had been thinking of but there was no way for him to find out unless he visited her. Wait, was that even a good idea? He sat there silently in his coffin staring blankly at the far wall as he tried to sort out his thoughts and assess his recovery status. <br><br>It didn't take long for him to get frustrated with residing in the room however, disgusted by the damp filthiness that surrounded him. Pushing himself to his feet he nearly tripped stepping out of the wooden box and stumbled into the wall grabbing a wall sconce to keep himself from falling. Scrunching his nose and furrowing his brows at the grime that coated his hand he pushed away from the wall and sneered, wiping his hand along his trousers before making his way out of the room. The house seemed cold, which was usual, but the energy of another being was long since gone and it felt strangely empty and barren. Something he had been used to for a long time, but since Ashton had kept his company in that short while he suddenly felt as if the void in his life was much bigger than before. <br><br>Human contact, he reasoned, was making him soft in the head and unfocused on his mission. He couldn't afford to lose focus while trying to track down the monster behind these attacks. Whoever it was wanted to gain control of his territory and frighten the people of the city. An uprising he gathered, was to be expected after such a long time of silence. Humans wouldn't understand this sudden turn of events in their city. The inhumane killings were more than just those of a serial killer in a spree of mass homicide, and as far as Kamui was concerned humans would never get to the bottom of it if he didn't stop it first.<br><br>The detective, he needed to see her again. Speak about anything new while he was sleeping. He had slept a week after all and there was sure to be something amiss while he was gone from the world. Once he made his way back into his personal quarters Kamui sought out a shelf and pulled a small brown box ornately carved with an intricate pattern. Opening the lid with shaky hands he revealed a sea of black pearls, or what seemed to be. Plucking one from the box Kamui made his way into the bathroom and gazed down at his form. Setting the black pearl on the counter of his vanity he realized his clothes were destroyed, covered in dried blood and soiled from a week of laying in it. He needed a shower really and as he stripped the clothes carefully from his form he winced at the feeling of unhealed skin. His muscles had managed to start knitting carefully back together but he was far from healed. Large hollow divots in his abdomen were covered with scabbed and oddly layered skin. It was an agonizingly slow process. <br><br>He returned into his bedroom with fresh clothes not long after his long shower, white and pristine unlike before. Making his way downstairs to the kitchen he grabbed a crystal tumbler from a cupboard and filled it halfway with water. He stood there as if to contemplate before pouring out some of the water and only leaving a quarter left. With hesitant movement Kamui dropped the pearl in the glass and watched as the small bead dissolved within seconds, leaving a deep crimson liquid behind. It was obvious by the dour look on his face that he didn't want to drink whatever it was, but without wasting much time he downed the liquid with a swift toss and waited.<br><br>Kamui's body began to tremble worse than before, the glass clutched with his spread fingers suddenly shattered to the ground. The glass left decent cuts on his fingers but they were healed within seconds, as he curled into himself his body almost looked as if his wounds were smoking while they healed, a low groan escaping from his clenched teeth. Once the trembling stopped he straightened himself, the weariness from his face replaced with vigor calm and his body seemed sturdy and stable. Quickly the vampire made his way to the foyer of his home, grabbing the white coat that waited for him by the door. Kamui didn't have much time, it was borrowed energy he was working with, and if he remembered correctly he only had a few hours before he needed to return home.</span>
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		</dl>
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