[IC] The Blood Compact

[Kidd]

Hunter blinked at Mo as her arm settled around her shoulders, and it was admittedly helpful. She managed to relax even as the descended into the lair, her eyes flickering about curiously as she tried to take everything in. She was still learning her sights and smells and sounds, but as they entered the room, she was able to distinguish that the majority didn't match the 'wolf's scent. Her eyes lingered on the werewolf for a moment, but then turned to the other strangers; still unsure of what was going, she offered a timid smile in greeting, allowing her sire to do the talking. Beside the powerful and confident goddess, Hunter was rather unimpressive and scrawny. It was a wonder if she'd even be noticed by these characters, these vampires of old. She tried not to think of it, however, and her eyes remained a dark brown that complimented the freckles on her dark face.

[The Grey Dust]

Typical, the young vampire had absolutely no respect for the finer points of politics and actual thinking. Like a rash he would rather go in and stir up what trouble he could then by his luck attempt to outmaneuver the misfortune. A jack, not a knight at all. In return to the oblivious upstart youth, Lord Bedivere merely offered a chuckle at the retort. Not every vampire turns out the same though the passing of time, some merely become mad in their own immortality, while others conform themselves to the culture of the era. Is this what they have become now? Fantasy objects as made by the human imagination? Scantily clad pretty boys and lusty dominatrix ladies? They used to be feared as bringers of death and the unnatural. Humanity has painted them as objects of desire now, dark, pale and mysterious, and vampires like Magnus probably embraced it judging by the younger's attire and lack of respect for others so present in the generation. Imagine that, immortals forever stuck as teenagers or fraternity brothers, now perhaps that would truly be terrifying. Nevertheless, it appeared the others were in favour to bring war to the humans. Although the terms were still fuzzy at beast, or perhaps at best, with the addition of the interloping werewolf who was seemingly invited? Strange times to request a werewolf into vampire assembly, what would be next, the old mummies down in Egypt? Still dog or not, the werewolves of London were never too much of a bother to contact. Yet the appearance of Gabriel was interesting, that the old fart would even show to something like this would mean either he was drunk off bad blood, or perhaps actually had some interest. Then again, it was never good to rely on someone like him who prefers to work as a lone wolf. And then there was her... With a quick grasp at his bowler hat, he held his formal headwear from flying in the gust of wind provided by one of the primals. She was clearly old, but perhaps a far more level-headed ancient one than Magnus. Her clothing was true to her roots, finally a vampire with the decency of respecting tradition. "Ah, Lady Mohowauuck, it has been quite some time, French-Indian war was it Mid-18th century? This side is I believe within your jurisdiction, hence I shall trust in your judgment in starting this battle. Coincidentally, I was in the area to finalize a business transaction involving original American artifacts, my associate here has managed to acquire a particular hatchet. However, I fear it is not authentic, dare I ask for your opinion on it after we spill some blood? Or perhaps even your young ward can be of some assistance in identifying, what say you?" From his suite Lord Bedivere produced a pocketwatch, and checked the time. Ah, good, it was sunset.

[Wraithblade6]

Mithias exhaled in what was probably a disapproving sigh, although his expression gave no clue as to what he had been thinking. He tried to bridge the gap with words as he looked behind him at the city. "I feel something... a presence, yet it's not clear where it's coming from or even what it is. It's as if it's changing quality constantly, or... There's more than one. It's not the normal vampire population I'm sensing. It's different. This does not bode well." He hoped by some chance agent Hunter would offer his unique insight. He watched as James cut his finger seemingly for a reason. Mithias felt a brief curiosity about what power the other vampire was calling upon, but he wouldn't get to see it. The sound of vehicles in the distance, large vehicles, was growing distinctly louder, to the point that it caught the company's attention for being so out of place. Mithias looked at James before they both went to look more closely down the hill at what was coming. Tanks were rolling up Main street, flaming crosses in their wake. The drone of several helicopters accompanied them above, and Mithias knew immediately what fanatical faction was upon them. It was SOLDIER's "other" worst enemy. "The Purge." He said angrily and narrowed his eyes. Yet, even Mithias had to blink twice at the armor-clad, human warrior he saw heading the offending army. Kame no Kage was known to SOLDIER, and few who ever saw him lived to tell about it, be they vampire or not. Mithias had studied him, but so little was known about the warrior's techniques and weaknesses that it was a feat merely to recognize him. He had killed oldbloods, and Mithias wasn't going to underestimate him. He had to warn James. SOLDIER certainly did know something was up. They would have been tracking the Purge, and perhaps this was their reason for transferring so many of their vampire agents to Kilo Point headquarters. But something didn't make sense. SOLDIER vampires were employed to dispatch rebel vampires, and they hardly ever worked together on a mission. The Purge were merely humans. Of course vampires hated them and would fight them, but... this hardly seemed necessary. The look on General Matt's and Agent Hunter's faces indicated that neither of them had been informed of this attack in the least. Could this have been... a setup?! With Kame here, SOLDIER could stand to lose the majority of its Elite vampire squadron. Mithias couldn't explain why, but he doubted this was all merely a coincidence. Nonetheless, there was no time to speculate. "General. That warrior is the 'Divine Shadow.' He is an asassin as powerful as any vampire. I doubt any of us can stand against him directly. We need to weaken him and find his strategy. If you can handle their tanks and human warriors, that would buy us time. The Purge must be stopped here, else I fear a chain reaction of Purge uprisings across the country will ensue."

[Rusalka]

The cut wasn't deep on her wrist, but at least enough to draw a good amount of blood from her veins, of which her adorable thrall partook of rather needily and was now well nourished. Rebecca however, she would need a fresh IV bag full of crimson nectar...and perchance a vodka and tonic to follow it up. While she wrapped her wrist in a roll of gauze she found in a desk near the examining table, her servant remained beside the dead girl, a concerning frown crossing Camille's lips and a sigh that followed, "Why...why was she afraid of me?" Rebecca, she knew the answer well, but didn't want to say anything to dampen the youngling's spirits. She looked to the woman as a little wolf pup who lost her mother, her eyes glistening with what Rebecca assumed well enough...evidence of her inner pain. "Perhaps she was surprised maybe, that someone from beyond the void noticed her." Rebecca cooed sauntering up behind the girl and resting her hands on her shoulders. "The dead must feel lonely, able to see others...but never reach out to them as you have, my dear. It's quite a gift you have." She supposed so, Camille, softly curling her lips and bringing her small hand to feel of her lady comforting her. "I guess..." The girl mused. "Mistress, what do you think she meant by 'Mag'? "The vampire's name I assume." Rebecca answered. "Or...it could be the name of his elder. The attack was from a thrall no less. No elder or lord in their right mind would instigate such a violent attack in the public eye." Camille nodded lightly as if to agree, not really knowing much of the unknown world surrounding her, a world the woman she served dutifully brought her into, of vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings and occurrences, but then again, the girl did have a bit of insight into the unforeseen. After all, before Rebecca turned her, she already knew of her....peculiar second sight. "So it's only the young ones...who are violent?" She inquired tilting her head a little to see her mistress behind her. Rebecca returned, rather stating fact, "Mostly sweetheart. It's a common occurrence among youngbloods. They don't know how to control their lust. It overtakes them, turns them into...say...the modern equivalent of a drug addict. Even when properly nourished, they continue to starve for blood and seek it out...by whatever means." She paused though and chuckled quietly, "But you're the little exception to this, Camille. You've managed to tame yourself, even without my guidance." "I guess I...never really felt the urge...Rebecca." Camille replied, a soft hue of pink glowing amidst the fair pallor of her skin. "Mistress?" She asked, turning around to face the woman with her emerald eyes, gazing into the frozen hue of Rebecca's, "When....when you were first turned....did you ever act like this? Killing people...and...drinking their blood?" Her words....even from such cute lips as hers, they were like daggers to the woman's heart, sharp...serrated daggers that carved into her flesh with such pain...such melancholy. Rebecca bit her lip and glanced off to the side, as not to show the concern welling in her eyes, but damned she be if her voice didn't betray her as she sighed deeply and slipped her hands a little down the girl's arms, "I....I cannot deny that I have given into my desires many times in my youth, that I have indulged this animalistic urge...and taken lives with it. Even I, try as I have for these many past moons to quell my wretched bloodlust, even I...have at times tasted fresh...warm...blood." Her eyes soon turned to those staring at her, the peaceful, verdant shade causing the woman to shiver slightly, and yet bite her lip more with a growing pang of concern, "My dear, you do not regret what I have done to you....do you? Be honest with me now." "I....ummm...I...." The youngling blushed all the more, trembling slightly in the woman's tender grasp as she stuttered. Did she honestly regret it? She was an immortal now, was she? And who better to serve all her life than such a graceful, beautiful woman, especially when she....well...as if it wasn't so obvious now to the both of them. Taking in a deep breath, Camille struggled to find her answer, adding more apprehension to the woman's gaze. Finally, she managed to reply, "N-no Rebecca, not at all. I....I'm happy that you changed me, and you...you saved me, Mistress. I would've died had it not been for you, and....no one would've cared... My family, my schoolmates...nobody would give a fuck that I was dead. You're...you're the only one who cares for me, M-mistress." From her eyes they fell, tears so warm, so full of an inner pain she shed upon the elder vampire. Softly Rebecca rose a hand to catch one of the tears and whisk it a way with an endearing smile to the girl. She leaned forward and upon Camille's quivering lips she planted hers, warm and sweet, leaving a tender kiss. "Come on, my sweet." She breathed slipping her fingers through Camille's blue hair. "We've done all we could here. At least we gained some answer, though a tad cryptic." Wrapping her arm around her servant, she began to lead them out of the room, but....they were stopped at the door by a rather....unsettling altercation. "Oh....it's you." Rebecca said to the man at the door, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of him. Twas the medical examiner, but something felt...very...very off about his presence. He was breathing hard, every exhale the woman felt as hot as the scathing flames of the dark abyss, and his eyes...his...bloodshot red eyes glistening and gleaming with such...insatiable hunger. "We...were just leaving now. Our work here is finished. You may continue with what you were doing earlier." Rebecca resumed trying best to keep composure, however it was difficult, what with the eyes of not a man...but a beast, a horrid, vile creature staring languidly and ravenously into hers. "You...are not going...anywhere!" The man snarled, his voice harsh and his body...sickeningly convulsing and twitching with every word spat from his wagging tongue. Rebecca backed away as he lurched forward, her arm extended across Camille behind her, urging the girl to step back. "W-what?" Astonished she uttered. "Why sir, I'm afraid you cannot keep us here against our discretion. That is considered kidnapping and is indeed a serious offense. You-" But ever rudely the examiner cut her off with a growl, a growl exposing the true nature of him, "Shut up you traitorous bitch! Once I'm finished with you and your little fuckmate, then I'm going to offer your heads...as trophies to Lord Magnus!" Mag...Magnus?! Of course it was a lord! Thus the answer she awaited, but even so, the bastard had done enough to out himself...as one of the loathsome undead. "Fuckmate?!" Camille yelled trying to step past Rebecca, itching now to claw the hell out of this disgusting prick. "You asshole! She's my mistress! Not my- Hey!! But back Rebecca nudged nudged her. Sharp the woman's eyes narrowed to him, the wretch before her, and deep and seething with anger her tone became as she spoke in return, "So...it was you who committed these vile atrocities...was it now?" The creature cackled, a madman's laughter, and in disturbing glee he clapped his hands, "Do you like what I've done with her?" As if a gust of wind he darted past Rebecca and Camille, now to the side of the dead woman on the slab....such a grotesque display as he caressed the nude, lifeless corpse and crooned licentiously, "Oh she....she was my favorite. Her screams...her lamentations, they were like music, such...lovely requiems to my ears, and her blood....ooooh....it was the sweetest I've ever tasted...like honey upon my tongue!" Speaking of his tongue, it slithered as the Serpent of Eden from his slimy gob, lapping at the grisly wound upon the blonde's neck. "Mmmmm...I wonder what your little slut tastes like." At that, ever more protective did Rebecca stand in front of Camille, already her eyes darkening with shadows of malice and rage. "The only way you will discover that...." She snarled under her breath, the nails of her fingers extending and hardening as she pointed one towards the disgusting vermin. "Is if you make it past me, but you....will be dead before you make it a mere three inches. So come forth, rotten vermin! See if you may challenge a true Nosferatu." "You...you do not deserve to speak so highly of yourself...Rebecca!" He cackled again, his eyes...glowing insanely in the dim shadows of the morgue. Rebecca...she was taken aback slightly, her hardened exterior softening a little at this most unexpected verbal blow struck. "That's right!" He resumed. "We know who you are! The very bitch who hunts and murders her own kind! You...you are a DISGRACE to Lord Magnus! And soon...oh so very soon...I will honor my Lord...with YOUR DEATH!!" In that instant the creature pounced on Rebecca, Camille screaming behind her in terror, but nary a claw nor fang of this wretched thrall would grace the embittered woman's skin. Instead what the beast would discover would not be the sweet, delectable flavor of Rebecca's blood gracing his tongue, but the possibly bitter, rotten taste of his own...as a sword pierced through his neck, having materialized in Rebecca's hands instantaneously from a wispy, black cloud of shadows. And what misfortune for the bastard's putrid smelling blood to spatter all over her face. "N-no...y-y-you...YOU BITCH!!" Still alive unfortunately the vampire screamed in anguish as Rebecca's blade carved deeper into the back of his skull. "You dare defy Lord Magnus?! You...you're not a true vampire at all! You spit in the face of your blessings!" At that the woman pushed her sword in further, eliciting such horrific lamentations as the silver began to sear his flesh gradually. Eye level with the beast, she hissed, her eyes darkening ever more, "Listen well, thrall. Vampirism is not a blessing to me. It is a curse, a curse laid upon me by a loathsome, licentious , horrid creature such as you! And...when I see into his eyes again, just as I stare into yours, it will not be as his helpless victim....but as the harbinger...of his own wicked demise! And creatures such as him, as you, and as your Lord...will NEVER walk the earth again!" And with those final words given she wrenched her blade violently from his neck, decapitating the beast in one fell swoop. As his head plopped to the floor, so too did his body fall, already smoldering into a pile of ashes and bones before the vengeful woman and her crimson blade. "Let's go, Camille. We've discovered who this lord is now." A bit harsh still the woman commanded her thrall. Cammie nodded quietly and merely followed suit obeying her mistress, trailing behind her as the two left the morgue. Although, as they made their way back to Rebecca's car, Camille couldn't help but repeat the last words spoken of the woman...of vampirism. Does....does she really mean it? Vampirism is.....a-a curse? Then...how...how does she think of me? No...she gave me life. I-it's not a curse...at least not to me, but...Rebecca...why does she think....

[Shikaru]

"Ah, Lady Mohow...Can I just call you Mo? That name is...rather hard to remember fully.." Magnus told her. "So glad you decided to come and join our little party. If my senses don't fail me it seems more humans have also joined us. Oh what fun this is shaping up to be...Do make yourself comfortable. Come shortly after nightfall we will slaughter them all." He sat back down in his makeshift chair of carved stone, simply waiting for the time to pass. Soon, soon he would take the lives of hundreds, then after that, who knows? --- Matt grimaced at the sign of the tanks and the flaming crosses. He grabbed the radio attached to the front of his jacket He spoke into it. "Yeah...get the snipers into position..." "Yeah, you saw them to?" "Mhm...Tanks too. You know what to do." "That should take care of part of them...I'll strike them from behind. Co-Ordinate with the rest on how to bring down that assassin guy." He said as he unbuckled from the motorcycle, with a soft click he ejected the boomerangs from the holsters. He ducked off behind the buildings, circling around to hill overlooking the small army coming to greet them. He grimaced, with that he descended down the hill, using the fading light to his advantage. He tossed the boomerang from his right hand, cutting down two of the attackers, them firing their guns as they went down. Taking down two more with friendly fire. He stretched his arm out and caught the 'rang on the rebound, "Consider me your welcome party fellas." He said with a grin to the few in the back that turned around. With a soft click he returned his weapons to their holsters and drew his magnums, three drawing their rifles in return. He fired, downing two of the three. He ducked as the last proceeded to open fire, by now most of the forces in the back had been alerted of his presence. He delivered a sweep kick to the man in front of him and a head-shot when he hit the ground. He ran and ducked behind one of the buildings for cover, a bullet catching itself in his right arm. The snipers above took that as their signal to begin opening fire, he hoped Mithias took it as his signal to hurry a plan along.

[thewizardguy]

As Matt moved sideways, attempting to outflank the enemy forces, he soon saw the extremists up close. Starkly different from the SOLDIER modern combat equipment, these men and women were equipped with what appeared to be thick plate mail, in the style of the Great Crusades, quite probably reinforced with advanced modern materials. Whilst highly ineffective against bullets, the steel suits proved highly effective against blades, as Matt's boomerang sliced past the armour of one of the soldiers, inflicting little more than a cut. As the man raised what appeared to be a large, crossbow-like contraption, Matt was forced to dodge back into cover, several bolts slamming in rapid succession against the walls, burying their heads in the stone. Bullets, however, proved a far more effective weapon. Lacking the capability to disperse the concentrated kinetic energy of bullet shots, the plate mail offered only mild resistance to Matt's dual magnums. Moving from cover to cover, he managed to pick off a number, as they turned to face this unexpected assault. It was quite clear that these men were equipped mainly for vampire slaying, using advanced versions of crossbows, and armour more suited against claws than bullets. As the snipers open fire, the tanks turn their modified heads, large, circular barrels glowing an ominous orange. With an explosive burst, a funnel of blue flame shoots from the tip, engulfing a sniper spot, the rush of burning napalm and mercury drowning out the screams of those within, as they feebly attempted to climb from the post. Several fell from the outpost, clawing at their clothing, attempting to shake off the horrible flaming material, before finally lying still on the ground. The second tank unleashed a similar torrent of fiery death, however the third seems to move sideways, functioning as little more than cover, the mysterious series of pipes on it's top remaining nonfunctional. Most likely, this tank had been equipped with some form of fog machine, to create large banks of Holy Vapour. As such, it was no surprise that they wouldn't even attempt to use it against SOLDIER, not knowing of the two Elite Vampires that stood at the entrance to the base. --------------------------------------- 'I extended the hand of friendship, and you heretics replied with fire! Truly, this pathetic organization has lost itself in corruption, lost to the Devil's whims. If I must, I shall cleanse this ground with the blood of the fallen.' As he speaks, Kami no Kage moves, shifting his body mere inches, as a loud bang echoes through the air. Mithias blinks, as he notices the bullet hole appearing in the ground. Again, the warrior shifts mere inches, and again, a bullet passes through the air. Two knives shoot from the figure's legs into his hand, each containing a core of wood to act as a stake, and he throws them with a power even a vampire would find hard to match, the magnets in his hands functioning as a form of velocity-boosting railgun. High above, on the roofs, two snipers are struck down, a blade lodging itself in their chests. The blade slices through bone like butter, only the crucifix-shaped hilt preventing it from going right through them. The tip had quite cleanly struck the centre of their hearts, perfectly aligned. Without a moment's hesitation, Kami no Kage dashes forward, moving mere inches to dodge the shots aimed at it, bullets passing through the air mere millimetres from his armour. His blade, Muramasa, shoots into his hand, as Mithias finds himself staring directly into the black visored helmet. In mere seconds, the man had crossed a distance of one hundred meters, a frightening pace for any being, especially one waving a very, very sharp sword. ---------------------------- The people of Kilo Point screamed and hid, children crying, as a wave of soldiers closed in on the military complex at the town's edge. Bullets flew through the air, replied to with series of rapid-firing crossbow bolts. However, SOLDIER was vastly outnumbered, their only advantage being the abundance of anti-vampire weaponry wielded by their enemy. And yet, the two tanks capable of firing were burning down entire streaks of land, forming barriers of flame that did not seem to go out. Purge zealots seemingly lethally wounded fought on, infecting themselves with special combat drugs to keep moving even after their body should have stopped functioning. Caring nothing for their own lives, they fought like maniacs. In the background, a choir seemed to be singing, barely audible above the rushing flames, and streaks of gunfire. It was a symphony of war, and to it's beat, the Purge marched forward, ready to die for their beliefs.

[Rusalka]

Leave it to a typical backwoods town like Kilo Point to put their city morgue and the coroner's office outside city limits, a long and seemingly lonely drive down a stretch of paved highway snaking around and cutting through a dense, verdant thicket of pines, spruces, and cedars towering over the road, casting upon the derelict passage dappled shadows so dense and so dark, not even the most avidly trained eyes could peer through and see what lies beyond. Thankfully, that's why vehicles were made with headlights. The small, two door sports car continued on its way back to the town, a vibrant crimson paint-job appearing nothing more than as a thin silhouette amidst the glow of the headlights, and that of the pale, full moon cresting over the treetops and diluting the thick shadows a little. The person driving the vehicle, Rebecca, had one hand casually rested on the steering wheel while another was propped against her face as she leaned on the driver side door and gazed out onto the road and the trees passing by her, eyes seeming to be vigilantly watching for any hazards, such as a deer or an elk prancing into the way of her car, or so help her one of those damned forsaken logging trucks screaming by her and jolting her awake, but nay did her thoughts lie on what was in front of her. Rather, they were upon her recent discovery at the morgue, the very words of that....detestable creature echoing throughout her ears, along with that name....Magnus. Where did she hear the name before? Just recently it seemed, but the woman was certain that name had rung a bell...just a very distant ringing it was. Could he be...? No...of course not. Magnus, whoever this other unsavory foe may be, he is a lord, an elder. Surely a man of his guile wouldn't outright attack as...the very beast who ruined her life, but even so, Magnus was a lord, and such, he must be dealt with as soon as possible. From the sound of things and given the current situation in Kilo Point, it was he who was riling these youngbloods to go forth and slaughter indiscriminately. As she continued driving, the radio softly played, a mournful tune to fit what else but the dreary and melancholic aura Rebecca felt from her surroundings zipping by her. She glanced off to the side, noticing in the passenger seat next to her, the teenage girl was curled up and resting peacefully, her petite chest gracefully rising and falling with every shallow breath she drew, her tiny lips moving slowly as an incoherent murmur or two followed. Warmly Rebecca smiled, finding the view....quite adorable, but twas as she turned her attention back to the road, her eyes suddenly widened and her high heel slammed into the break, thrusting both she and Camille into the dashboard nearly and giving both women quite a jolting surprise. "Aaah! Oh my god! What happened?!" Frantically the girl spoke, her eyes darting about. "It's okay, sweetie. Just...w-wait here. I'll be right back." Trying her best to remain calm, Rebecca answered her thrall, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. Slowly...and ever cautious...she approached the obstruction, a lumbering mass of metal that could, if it wished, have crushed her car...and the two of them, in an instant. And by metal...military metal. "What in the name of... What is this doing here?" Rebecca couldn't believe it, a tank, an armored combat machine, in the middle of the road in a (supposedly) peaceful hamlet of all places! Astonished she was at first seeing the tank just appear right before her eyes, but now....the woman was quite suspicious...and a bit apprehensive. Could it be National Guard? Was the vampire uprising that damn threatening to national security that the government responds with military force? No, even if the murders were rampant and the night children were slaughtering left and right, it would be folly just to send more cattle for them to feed off. SOLDIER perhaps? Also a no. As advanced as SOLDIER appeared, it seemed they wanted to keep much of their enforcing hush-hush. A publicity stunt such as this would only rile the citizens into a panic. It was as she examined the armored behemoth a bit closer, she discovered...a rather regal and peculiar emblem. A cross, the symbol of the Christian faith, salvation to some, oppression to others. Explained why the woman, who in their mind would be considered abomination for both vampirism and...other matters, never adhered to a faith nor to a religion. Though, the sight of the holy symbol gave her a slight pain in her eyes, common when she ran across them. It was ablaze too, reminding Rebecca of the old traditions of the South, and funny it was how racism persisted, even after the Civil Rights Movement. But nevertheless, this tank was in her way. "Excuse me!" She called out, still not sure if the tank was manned, and if the steel was thick, then what possibility was there her voice would carry through? "Excuse me! You are in my way! I'm asking you kindly to move your...umm...vehicle from the road, so that you do not disrupt traffic any further!"

[Grimoire Gaming]

Lady Mohowauuck bowed her head to Lord Bedivere, pleased that he was the first to acknowledge her presence. She would remember his kindness when it came time for battle, perhaps he deserved to lose less blood than the others. "It would be my pleasure to appraise this hatchet of yours, I do believe it is well within my cultural territory to ascertain. But first, of course, we must kiss the Earth with the blood of our foes, no?" she asked with a smile and gestured to Hunter. "This ward you speak of is my youngest child, Hunter. It's come time to push this little bird out of nest and see how it chooses to fly." Of course, child meant progeny when Mo spoke it. She was careful not to assign a gendered pronoun to Hunter, as Hunter was two-spirited -- something revered in Native American culture. It was one of the many reasons that Mo's heart was softened to the human, leading her to become a sire yet again, despite her hatred for humanity. Finally, the person whom Lady Mohowauuck assumed was Magnus spoke up, although he was too rude to offer a name. She already liked him less than the Lord who spoke of knowing her from the French and Indian war. Truth be told, Mo's life was so long that she could hardly remember every face that she'd come to meet. "Lady Mohawk tends to be easier for the tongues of pale-faces such as yourself." she said haughtily, "But if that is too complex for you, you may call me Mo." Pleased with herself, Lady Mohowauuck took a seat at the table and grinned at the idea of the slaughter that Magnus had mentioned. "What shall be our first move in battle?" she asked, always one to cut to the chase and bathe in the blood.

[Wraithblade6]

General Matt was both blunt and decisive when he apparently gave the order to attack, being the first to open fire himself. Mithias had expected him to retreat to safety. Being a commanding officer, he would be crucial in organizing and directing the SOLDIER forces, a bunch of humans, some of which had never seen combat before. Of course, he could not be blamed for immediately attacking. Matt was inwardly a belligerent old geezer, and having been caught out at the front gate, he may not even have been able to successfully abscond. Mithias cursed under his breath for not getting here sooner and looked warily at the bionic ninja. In response to the general's actions, or perhaps it was inevitable, the Purge crusaders and tanks took acion. Mithias could only shake his head at the knight look-alikes that went down to bullets, but the bolts lodging themselves into concrete gave him plenty reason for concern. Gross deathscreams curdled his blood as immoliated human 'kindred' of his fell unconscious to the pain of fire and perished. For all his work to promote and keep peace, the slaughter had already begun so easily around him. He looked at Kami with grave expression as he listened to the warrior's words. Mithias squinted his eyes briefly, but did not move, as a bullet hit the ground near him and flung dirt upward in a mini explosion. "SOLDIER stands for peace. You stand for slaughter. Which of those is the greater good? We will not let you win." Mithias revved the engine of his bike as he saw Kami launch his cross-like stake-knives and charge forward. Gaging Kami's speed, Mithias aided his machine to accelerate away. Never taking his eyes off the professional assassin as he was quickly closing in, Mithias pulled his FN57 with his left and fired several shots at Kami while driving. His vampiric senses told him what was in front of his bike as he tore alongside the base at high speed. He didn't signal. Retreating to a more advantageous position was the best he could come up with at the immediate moment. His bullets failing to kill Kami no Kage, no surprise, Mithias Chucked a smoke bomb and returned both hands to the steering. Tanks, flame throwers, a holy water vaporizer, bolts that could cut through concrete... This was merely a SOLDIER outpost. Kilo Point didn't have tanks. Hair blowing randomly behind him, the vampire considered his pursuer. There was no doubt about it, Kami was part machine, but he was also human in the flesh. He would die, somehow, if not in battle, then from age, and that could just as well be a method of defeating him. Surely he had some kind of defense against vampire mind control, or he would have fallen by now. Humans also had several requirements beyond the needs of a vampire. They had to have warmth, oxygen, nutrition, an intact spine... and they had to breathe. He pushed the bike to put some distance between him and Kami. As soon as he heard the smoke bomb go off, Mithias kicked off the foot pedals and brought his feet onto the seat before jumping straight up off the bike and onto the stone wall surrounding the base. The bike sailed on without a driver. Hopefully, Kami would be tricked by the simple ruse, at least for a moment. Mithias had both guns pulled before he even landed with a roll, ready to use them if he had been seen.

[Kidd]

Slaughter? Kiss the Earth with blood? Battle? What the fuck were these oldies gearing up for? The man who seemed to be responsible for the gathering mentioned humans, but what humans? The confusion and concern was plain on Hunter's expressive face, but she remained quiet. She didn't understand the whole story yet, but she was sure she would soon. In fact, when Mo introduced, she even managed a smile and a small wave, though still found herself at loss for words. She felt like anything she said could be the wrong thing to say in front of these dangerous and powerful beings. Mo prompted the others for battle plans as she sat, and Hunter stood attentive just behind her seat as she eagerly awaited details. Her eyes flickered to everyone in the room, waiting on their input. Sure, she had to leave sometime, but she was wondering if she'd have to wait to be pushed; if this meeting went wrong, Hunter intended to just jump.

[thewizardguy]

As his prey moved away rapidly, another knife-blade appeared in Kami no Kage's hand, once more being fired. Even as Mithias turns behind him to throw the smoke grenade, he finds a blade striking his motorcycle's wheel. Twisting and turning, the motorcycle crashes into the ground, even as the smoke grenade - which Mithias had managed to drop during the crash - goes off, covering the area in fog. Sliding to a halt, the vampire elite finds himself surrounded by obscuring fog, and even as he tries to activate his infrared vision, he finds nothing. Hundreds of heat patterns move around, but all of them look to be either SOLDIER agents, or Crusaders. Kami no Kage would seem to have disappeared with- out a trace, having somehow disabled his own heat signature. The monotone voice arose from the mist, giving Mithias a bead on Kami no Kage's location. 'Peace? Do you truly believe that? Abomination, your life has been many times longer than mine. Tell me, abomination, has there ever been peace? This magical balance you seek out, it does not exist. For as long as both humans and vampires have existed, there has been war.' Light footsteps, the click of Kami no Kage unsheathing another throwing blade, the thick fog preventing all but audible mediums of orientation. Through the mist, the assassin moved, having switched to the ultraviolet spectrum. The fog was causing problems, but the ultraviolet was a far more reliable method of locating his prey in this mess than infrared or colour-light. 'SOLDIER is a lie, a corrupted fallacy, pulling a blind before the eyes of good men and striving only to rule. If SOLDIER truly stood for peace, why are there no vampires in the ruling council? Why is it that SOLDIER has supplied us, the supposed breakers of the peace, with weapons and vehicles? Is it, maybe, because even among SOLDIER, there are some who realize that to attempt to pacify the vampires is hopeless?'

[thewizardguy]

Several figures emerge from the makeshift barricade that had been palced along the road. Each was wearing what looked like crusader armour, covered in tiny crucifixes, wielding large, crossbow-like machines. At the front of their Repeating Crossbows was a blade, and even from this distance it was easy to recognize the silver from which the blade was made, or at least which had been built into the core. In the back, one of them wielded a machine similar to a flamethrower, with a pipe leading to two large tanks on his back. However, it lacked a flame, and had a similar blade built onto the nozzle. It would have taken the application of serveral neon signs, and potentially fireworks, to make it any more clear that these men were specialized vampire hunters. 'This is a barricade, the entire area is being Purged. The Lord has decided that the vampire presence in Kilo Point is no longer to be allowed, and several Oldbloods have been tracked to the area.' He gestures at a side road, obviously nearly unused and heavily overgrown. 'We have established a camp in that direction for those who wish to wait out the Purge. If you live there, you may want to move to that location, for your own safety. We cannot guarantee the lives of anyone who enters beyond this point.'

[arowne97]

James grinned as he simply abandoned his guard post and walked out into the street directly along the route that the Purge was going. "Heh...Peace? Who gives a shit about that?" he mumbled to himself. He picked up a can of gasoline out of an open garage on the way there, and slung gasoline all over the street, before striking the ground with his sword, which caused a spark, igniting the gasoline and setting the road ablaze. And a gas fire would definitely be noticeable, even through the fog. "Aren't y'all hypocrites too? I mean, the church turned the legendary Dracula into a vampire! So don't go spouting all your holy bullshit about how the church is holy and good! You're just looking for a reason to kill and say it's a holy cause! You're the biggest sinners here! So shut your traps!" he yelled out at them.

[Rusalka]

What she was expecting were possibly men in kevlar vests and helmets to emerge from the armored war horse, but what a quaint surprise it was to Rebecca to discover men and women...donning gothic-medieval styled plate armor emblazoned with various religious insignias, something akin to what the Knight's Templar would adorn before riding boldly across the Middle Eastern deserts to reclaim the Holy Land from the heathen scourge. A bit taken back she was by the sight, not just the glistening silver of their polished pauldrons and cuirasses, not to mention the blades they wielded so chivalrously and valiant, but feeling a tad under the weather upon her eyes catching...so many damn crosses. If only Wiccans and Satanists hunted vampires. At least the sight of a pentacle wouldn't afflict poor Rebecca with a splitting migraine and a queasy stomach. She glowered her eyes to the paladins, still unsure of who they were, but...knowing well the reason they wore such armor and carried such weapons, such vile, glinting weapons indeed, out on a bloody crusade indeed they were, a violent warpath now carving a grim swath through a backwoods hamlet infested with the undead horrors of Nosferatu. And to think...Rebecca was upon the same path. "Purged?" She spoke rather blunt raising an eyebrow to the words. Crusade? More like an inquisition to the woman...or more to the point religious fanaticism at its finest, making the current menace of Islam more of a tiny itch. "What is this? A publicity stunt? Very avant-garde of you fair knights, but I must return to my office. I have important business ahead of me, so if you would be so kindest to remove this roadblock and allow me and my assistant through. In a split second, a small glimmer past her eyes, and with it, a rather tiny smirk crossing the woman's lush, ruby lips. Meanwhile, Camille sat in the car patiently, waiting for her mistress to return and seeing if...whoever these people were would let them through to the town. She leaned back in her seat, humming quietly to herself a little melody she made up on the spot, lightly kicking her toes against the bottom of the glove compartment, but then...she paused, her eyes flickering towards her right side. Hmm? W-what was that? Was she seeing things? Camille, she was sure she saw something...just now...in the woods, a figure..cloaked, hooded, shrouded in the deep, opaque shadows of the forest, only the soft ray of moonlight betraying his position, faintly giving away a man-shaped silhouette, but yet...there was something in his hand...something gleaming...something...bladelike. A sword?

[The Grey Dust]

"Ah most excellent then," The old vampire then turned to his enthralled human, "Unfortunately for you, it appears your services are no longer required." At those words the human seemed to have paled slightly, though unable to resist the voice of the vampire, the blood ran cold from his veins. Well, perhaps rather it ran out, as he found himself attacked by younger vampires who had scarcely held self-control over their own hunger the very moment the human walked in the room. Perhaps it was fear which gripped their desires to sink into the museum curator's flesh, or perhaps it was resect. Either way, it was shortly after Lord Bedivere suggested his disinterest at the human servant did they take the hint to freely feast upon it as the screams of the thrall echoed deep below. Like wolves to a lamb, they descended upon him, a frenzy of flailing limbs and desecration. Feral children of the night. "Now Lord Shane, in company of such uncouth, expendable younglings, is a proper strategy even required? I hardly believe this outpost is equipped to handle our current numbers, let alone an elder such as yourself. Henceforth, I move to make a notion to begin the attack, as night has fallen upon us." The knight's shape changed form as he finished, his clothing twisting itself to match as cloth became broke and became down which turned into blackened feathers, and his leather oxfords elongated and became tipped with claws before splitting. The coattails of his suit extended itself and fanned out, the briefcase and umbrella merged into his sleeves as they became wings and soon Bedivere took the form of a raven which perched itself upon the horrified face of the exsanguinated body of the curator. With the flutter of black wings, the vampire took to the skies and the night.

[thewizardguy]

The figure at the front spoke up, after hesitating for a moment. 'Well..... it seems you have important reasons to go where you need to be. However, don't get in the way of our Brothers and Sisters, they will not show mercy.' The man seemed unsure of himself, and Rebecca guessed it would have to be against his nature to allow someone through. Most likely, the effects of the hypnosis would not last long. Furthermore, from the whispers she could pick up from the others, it seemed multiple among the Vampire Hunters had noticed the strange change in behaviour from their superior, and suspected some form of foul play.

[Wraithblade6]

As soon as the smoke grenade left his hand, Mithias heard the clink of metal ripping through metal and his back wheel went out of control. The bike fishtailed and then went down on it's side, sliding and flipping over obstacles as it veered off course. Mithias had managed to pounce off, but was forced into a sub-ideal recovery. Instead of drawing his guns, he pulled his two blades as he rolled up onto his feet. The left side of his SOLDIER uniform suffered some road rash, but the protective high-quality material endured. Smoke billowed out rapidly from the grenade, covering the whole area within seconds. Mithias stood within the cloud, blades ready, lips pursed, not making a sound and trying to locate his enemy. Tense microseconds dragged on... One of the wheels of the motorbike kept spinning long after the engine had automatically shut off somewhere in the smoke. Mithias was on high alert, poised with intense focus. Melee with Kami wasn't his preferred method of dealing with him, but he had to be ready for such an attack in a fog like this. He felt in his blood the surge that accompanied every warrior into battle, fear. Perhaps Kami knew Mithias was still there in the fog, perhaps he was guessing, but he spoke. That emotionless, reverberating voice echoed off the wall and buildings around them. The vampire desperately tried locate its source. The voice seemed to be slowly moving, but where was it coming from!? The vampire kept his head and kept his guard up with his two titanium swords. Kami was right. Mithias had been born into this war. It was all he had ever known in his long seven centuries. He used to fight against all vampirism as a human, just as Kami no Kage did now, so he knew exactly how zealous his opponent must be. So much had Mithias wanted peace, yet he could not abide the slaughter if innocents. Some innate directive told him that it was wrong, and it killed him not to show mercy. He would strive to find another way. but he had been doing so for a very long time. It was ironic that in a way, they both sought the same end. Mithias heard Kami's disturbing, fatalistic words, followed by the faint sound of a weapon clicking free. He blinked and searched with his golden eyes into the smoke clouds, also turning slowly to try to find Kami. "What you say is true, human. Time has shown me that the 'war' between us is unending. But... time has also shown me, that it is more than a mere conflict between species." He swallowed, catching a faint glimmer of light through the fog in one direction, then continued slowly, "This war, our war, is nothing less than the eternal struggle between good and evil. Humans and vampires are ultimately the same. A vampire's power may be used for great evil, but it can also be used for great good!" Mithias emphasized that last part, his voice belying his sincerity. He returned to normal tone. "They deserve the chance to choose." He was pretty sure he knew where Kami was hiding at this point, but pretended to be oblivious. "Regardless of whether or not SOLDIER has lost sight of its purpose, I still have not lost sight of mine. If you believe in redemption, if you truly have faith, then abandon your genocidal crusade. Do not lose hope in others, Kami no Kage. Join me, and fight for true justice."

[Shikaru]

"Arm the fucking RPG's! Destroy the damned tanks!" Matt said into the radio between firing at the maniacs with rapid fire crossbows. He fished a grenade out of the inside of his jacket and tossed it out into the middle of the men firing. "Grenade!" They yelled. Boom, taking out a few in the center of the blast radius, shrapnel sticking in the legs of a few that didn't get the fuck out of the way in time. Shortly after a much larger boom followed suit, one of the tanks exploding from the rocket launcher fire. Sadly the second tank decided to turn it's fiery maw towards the man with the rocket launcher while he was reloading, setting him ablaze. "Damn..." Matt said, he stood firing blindly while running down the alley behind a second building. Unless they blew up the building, if they followed after him they would simply meet a wall of bullets. Wasn't much, but he didn't have that many more mags left. ---- Magnus grinned as he heard gunfire and screams of death. "Oh, would you listen at that, it seems the humans have begun shooting themselves." He said with a laugh. "Yes, yes. I do believe now would be the perfect time to strike, wouldn't you agree everyone?" The blood crazed newbloods in the room growled and slowly nodded. "Go forth, Strike them from behind!" At that the newbloods swarmed out of the cavernous base as if a starter pistol had been fired at a marathon. Shortly the only people left in the room was Lady Mohawk, her progeny, Magnus, And The Jester. "Shall we, gentlemen and women?" He said with a mad grin on his face. ---- Rhyss groaned, Having been disturbed from his rest. Sure, vampires didn't need it, but it didn't kill them to simply rest every once in a while. He'd been radio'd about the Purge attack at Kilo Point. He didn't hesitate, he immediately got up and grabbed his gear. Holstering everything and carrying as much ammo as could possibly fit on his clothes, and when that ran out he got a duffel bag and tossed it on his shoulder. Grabbing shades and a cigar and promptly lighting it, he hopped on his motorcycle and gunned the accelerator. Lucky for him he was stationed not far from Kilo Point as back up in-case shit ever hit the fan. He'd be there in maybe 30 minutes, 35 tops. It'd been a while since he'd actually been deployed, oh so long...Probably because they trusted him as far as they could throw him. Probably only called him in because it was convenient, he really didn't care either way.

[The Grey Dust]

Darkness. Far older than the first vampire. As infinite as the void of space, existing far beyond the measure of time. But all too well banished by even the smallest candlelight. What power was the light which dared to face its elder? The raven flew high in to the night sky. It may have been strange for those attuned to the natural world, to observe such a bird active at such hours. Lady Mo perhaps would have found it assuming that Lord Bedivere chose this form, although it was not without thought nor reason. The raven was a symbolic bird, and perhaps those with some insight into the legends of the isle would smile as the Last Knight of Camelot took the form of a Raven as he had always throughout the history of Britannia. Put back against the black, his feathers of midnight were but faintly separate against the sky, only the rising moon and emerging stars dared revealed him from above. What accursed cosmic light from the heavens dare serenade this night of the vampire? Even still, far greater than the dim glimmers of the pale stella-luna, were the great flames of battle and flash of powder. Chaos began, unfolding by the burning lights of flaming crucifixes and flambéed flesh. The screams of human suffering and torment woke the dead and undead the same, as by the evening the quiet earth stirred with the violence of man. There it was, man killing man for the sake of mankind, as another group had beaten the vampires to the honor of first blood. What was it now? Lord Bedivere took in the sight, his eyes sharpening at every figure and falling body. Dressed in armor, like the knights of yore, were one side, the fanatics he recalled, who perhaps were a splinter of the original SOLIDER. The Purge was it? A biblical cult of vampire hunters who thought themselves as humanity's last hope? By order of the Crown, Parliament and the Prime Minister, the Purge had been outlawed in the UK under the official ruling of being a militant religious extremist group. And what underground sect remained were offed by the werewolves. After all, it would be a terrible mistake to let such a group gain power in a vampire-run country. What mockery of true knights. They were like the crusaders who split blood over their beliefs, while each sin would be stitched into their holier-than-thou souls. Who amongst men of their faith could absolve the wrongs of man? While man forgives his insolent dogs, will their Gods forgive them? They have killed each other over petty differences, while vampires kill them for substance as one species preys upon the other. They would never understand unless their cows begin to gore each other. And as he flew, with every flapping flutter of dark and feathered wings, a darkness fell upon the battlefield. It lingered and twisted around, seeping down upon the earth as the lights of the flames began to die and they soon smolder away like burnt matchsticks. Unnatural lights provided by means of electricity too flicked and dimmed slowly until they became no more as the darkness spread slowly across like plague. Even the moon and stars became darkened, their lights no longer piercing the void as it crept along to swallow the light. Nevermore, Nevermore. The victory of light is but scant few hours. While Darkness shall reign eternal at the end of time.

[Rusalka]

The figure at the front spoke up, after hesitating for a moment. 'Well..... it seems you have important reasons to go where you need to be. However, don't get in the way of our Brothers and Sisters, they will not show mercy.' The man seemed unsure of himself, and Rebecca guessed it would have to be against his nature to allow someone through. Most likely, the effects of the hypnosis would not last long. Furthermore, from the whispers she could pick up from the others, it seemed multiple among the Vampire Hunters had noticed the strange change in behaviour from their superior, and suspected some form of foul play.

@thewizardguy

Like ice it felt, a sinister, unwelcomed chill that seemed to creep down the woman's spine and course its way through her shriveling nerves to the very tips of her fingers, threatening to extend her sharp, obsidian blades from her hands and unleash a terror like no other upon these...obviously overzealous fundamentalists, but with a mental slap on the wrist, Rebecca swayed herself from such illicit thoughts, the telltale voice that whispered in her head kill them while the other, the voice of reason, urged her to simply walk away. Pay not the suspicious glances and apprehensive mutterings of the hunters any regard, climb back into her vehicle and drive onwards taking her and her adorable, sleepy thrall to safety, or...what apparent safety may be left in the city as spoken by their grim words. As it appeared, the city was in absolute peril, as these religious buffoons were purifying every inch of it. It was best not to make a scene anyways in front of these few, not when they had heavy firepower on their side, plus with the volume of which they were armed, it would be a miracle in itself if Rebecca survived the altercation with just a few pieces missing from her. "Very well. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a wonderful evening." She smirked to the armored men and women before returning to her car, her high heels echoing with every clack against the weathered asphalt of the road. She slipped in closing the door and locking it rolling up her window, when she saw that Camille was very much awake and apparently...frightened by something. "Sweetheart? Is something the matter?" The woman asked her servant, a gentle hand reaching to caress her smooth, blushing cheek. The girl shakily answered, a nervous fang pinching at her bottom lip and tinting it about the same glowing hue as her skin, "Ummm...n-n-no Mistress. I-I ummm... I was just a little scared of these guys. That's all." The hunters, of course. To an elder such as Rebecca, they didn't really strike her that much as intimidating. Rather, she was laughing hysterically on the inside at the great lengths mortals would go just to eradicate the undead scourge, about as subtle as the Holocaust, but....to a youngling...it might as well be the coming of the Third Reich. Even in the dim, greenish haze emanating from the dashboard of her car, Rebecca could see clear as day the fear surmounting in Camille's soft emeralds. "My dear, you've nothing to be afraid of." She assured the young thrall with a tender kiss upon her forehead. "They're letting us through now. I'll admit negotiations were rather...tense shall we say? But you know your Mistress. I have quite a way with words." With a little smirk, she giggled to herself starting up her car and driving past the roadblock, making sure to keep her speed to a minimum, so as not to draw ay further suspicion. She would admit, tense indeed was the word for that short meeting. In a matter of seconds, those fools could have ended her life....and that of her sweet little Cammie. ....But what Rebecca hadn't noticed was the fear in Camille's eyes was not that of the hunters...but of the shadowy, cloaked figure that was scrutinizing their every move from the seemingly infinite darkness, and now...as they had gone, the figure set his attention...upon the lowly roadblock set by the Purge...and the valiant men and women who guarded the passage with their lives...