Hidden 10 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by 13org
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13org Stay fresh!

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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm

The club was one hell of a change compared to the atmosphere Corinna was used to, two completely different worlds... While her mansion was built with a very eye catching gothic architecture and decorated in early Victorian style, giving it a classical and antique feeling, the club area was an entirely different world... Neon and strobe lights, the thin, sweet scented smoke, the music... It was highly unlikely, almost impossible to think that the woman who lived in such mansion enjoyed that kind of place, and yet, there she was, dancing and moving her body together with the music.

Truth be told, it took a bit for her to get used to the atmosphere, but once Lily started singing and she started dancing, it was pretty quick. Maybe it was the almost intoxicating mix of smells... Sweat, alcohol, smoke... But once she stopped dancing, she was ready to explore the rest of the club. Surely she would find something interesting to do... Maybe get something to drink... She heard that they had some very good drinks.

The second she got into the bar area, she smiled.

"Now, this is something much more familiar..." she whispered to herself as she walked towards the counter. The bar had a completely different atmosphere from the club part. Something much more... familiar to her.

Leaning herself in the counter, she looked to the barman with a mischievous smile.
"Such a wonderful night, don't you agree?" She asked, gently resting her hands on the counter, making an noticeable sound when her sharp fingers touched the counter.

With the change of atmosphere, her personality seemed to change as well. Despite the red dress that showed quite a bit of skin, her attitude and the way she walked and talked were more noble and formal. While certainly not as flirty as she was on the club, it wasn't as formal as she normally is when walking around the city.

"It's my first time in a nightclub and I must say... I've never danced so much in my life!" Corinna continued, with a sweet giggle.

"Would you have something to help me quench my thirst?" Corinna asked, licking her lips in a suggestive manner.
Hidden 10 mos ago 10 mos ago Post by Raijinslayer
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Raijinslayer .

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Damian, The Bouncer

A short Collab by @Raijinslayer&@Fallenreaper, starring Damian and Mercy
One Night in Hell Club, right outside the building.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm

Damian wandered along the edge of the dance floor, now back in his normal guise, scanning for Cortes’ presence within the club. Unfortunately, where the Co-owner was at the moment, it didn’t seem to be here, which was a worrying fact in and of itself considering that it was opening night. You’d think he’d want to be here to claim at least some credit for the restoration of the club, even if Damian was certain that the man had very little to do with the renovation process. Not only that, but his secondary target had also started to move, the dark haired Licentia having made her way to the bar and began a conversation with the Bartender, Rich.

He was about to move in a little closer, wanting to be ready to spring into action in case Corinna tried to pull another move like last time, only for something else to grab his attention. A small figure was weaving their way through the gyrating crowds, trying their best to remain unnoticed though the annoyed glances of several other patrons spoke volumes of her effectiveness in that regard.

A minor? He pondered the internal question a bit, eyes flitting back and forth between the retreating figure and where he knew Corinna to be, before letting out a sigh. With some hesitation, he stepped forward onto the dance floor, hsi former shifting ever slightly under the flashing lights, his small frame filling out and growing as he aged his appearance a few years. He had to better look the part of a bartender, and it would be rather difficult to convince the sneaky intruder to leave the premises peacefully if he looked as if he didn’t belong in here either. Of course, Damian himself didn’t really feel equipped to be in such a establishment himself, if he was being honest, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

As he moved through the clubgoers, ushering no small amounts of ’excuse me’s and apologizes as he did so, he quickly found that this his plan to try and cut through the crowd hadn’t accounted for one important detail: it was bringing him in rather close proximity to people. The swirling pulse of their Vis surrounding him was very, very intoxicating right now, his eyes taking on a rather intense pink-violet glow again as his baser impulses rose to the surface once more. Taking a deep breath, he forced those feelings deep down inside of him once more, keeping his focus locked on his target as he picked up the pace, easily able to duck and weave his way around anyone in his path. Hopefully the intruding kid didn’t notice him, but even if they did, it wasn’t like they could hide. He’d already locked onto her Vis signature, so no amount of crowd ducking would possibly cause him to lose his trail.

Mercy shifted and shoved her way through the crowds. Several individuals grumbled or pushed back, causing her to glare back with heated venom in her expression. It had taken some time to place Cortes’ little ‘present’ for the club’s opening. Especially finding the right spot that was out of the way and no one accidently stumbled across. If things went badly, the asshole would have her skin for sure.

Her golden eyes shifted from right to left, seeking something. She was drawn to a nearby wall causing her to walk to the thinnest part of the crowd. Her light black hair bounced around with her movements as she quickly stepped toward it.

Damian’s pursuit was silent and swift as he came up behind the girl, reaching out to grab her(gently) by the shoulder, while also further announcing his presence via clearing his throat.

“Excuse me Miss, but I’m going to have to see some ID.” His voice rumbled slightly, having manipulated his vocal chords to drop a couple octaves so that he sounded more ‘authoritative’ as he started down at the young girl, who didn’t look much older than, say. . . 15. . . maybe 16 years old. Definitely not old enough to be in here, at least appearance-wise. Though considering how Damian usually appeared, those tended not to be as sound a method of detection as it likely was before Licentia came here, but the law needed to be enforced none the less.

”If you do happen to be a minor. . . please don’t try and run. It’d bother the other patrons a great deal, and I don’t think either of us want that . . . right?” damian tried to give a friendly grin, but mixed with the timbre of his voice and the fact that his eyes were still glowing a rather intense shade, it probably came off as a bit more as a threat then he had intended.

Mercy had to give the staff credit… they were scary as hell. Her figure stopped in its tracks when she turned, her neck hairs on end with tension. She noticed the glowing pinkish-violet eyes and the ‘friendly’ grin which looked a lot like a cat with a mouse in paw. Fuck! She muttered. Casually, she twisted about giving the man a fake smile. His grip didn’t loosen from her shoulder making her inwardly flinch before she seemed to reach into her back pocket.

“Yeah, sure… right here,” Abruptly she stepped into his foot’s inside then bolted past him for the bar, the wall currently not an option now.

Damian let out a sigh of relief as the girl seemed to comply with his request, taking note of her appearance, most notably those intense gold-

“Ah!” He exclaimed, more out of shock than anything else, as the girl suddenly slammed her foot down on his own. While the action itself didn’t really hurt all to much, the surprise of it caused Damian’s grip to loosen just enough that she was able to slip out of his grasp as she turned to ran. Damian let out a muttered curse, his annoyance and irritation at this latest screw-up only adding to the headache that the club was starting to inflict on him. Quickly, he drew upon his inner reserves of Vis, the faint glimmer of horns beginning to wrap around his head as he cast a quick spell with a wave of his hand. A pair of black tendrils appeared from her shadow and weaved themselves in a tight knot around her ankles, halting her movement as she was briefly anchored to the ground, the forward momentum likely bring her crashing either to the ground or the other patrons. The tendrils themselves would snap from the force of her ceased momentum, having accomplished all he’d need them to do in the short time he’d had to react.

Whatever the case, it would hopefully slow her down enough for Damian to catch up with her, his swift movements bringing him to the girl’s side in moments. Any hint of a smile was gone from his face, a look of irritation clear on his face(though it was more at himself than at her).

3

Hidden 10 mos ago Post by May
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May Just Damn Cute

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Emma
&
Masha


Arc 2 Day 1
{One Night in Hell club | Around 7 pm }

@Demonic Angel


Emma and Masha headed for the back, both of them relieved at the drop in volume between the two rooms. Masha smiled at Nikki as they passed her, winking playfully. She guided them back to an empty booth, one that had a little card on it that simply said [i]’Reserved], it was for either Masha, or someone more important than her, whichever happened first. And right now, it was her.

The pair sat and talked about their lives since the last time they’d seen each other a few months before. Masha explaining why she left London and all that had transpired since then. Emma talked about school and such. Which of course lead them into talking about magic itself and what Masha had learned from Darius. Because despite how unlikely a pair they seemed, Emma and Masha had a deal in common with each other, even if they might not have been friends if it wasn’t for forced time together as children because of their family businesses.

Emma glanced up at some point in their conversation and caught sight of a familiar frame moving through the room and smirked. “And he doesn’t even notice me,” she said with a little laugh.

Masha looked up as well and her own smirk was certainly a lot more wicked than Emma’s. “And he doesn’t even know the fun I will now have,” she laughed before calling out, “Killian, come here.”

{} {} {}


@13org

Rich looked up at the woman as she approached, being subtle about him looking her over. He moved over closer to her, as was his job to do, and listened as she spoke about dancing and it being her first night there and all that. And despite what he told himself, he was not immune to those fluttering eyes and the trail of her tongue across her lips. He looked down, trying to regain proper thoughts, and noticed her hands for the first time, even though he’d heard them clicking before.

With slightly wider eyes, though even more flushed cheeks, he looked back up at her. “Of course,” he said with a laugh that only slightly gave way the nervousness he felt. Which could easily just be from her flirting too. She was a pretty woman, sharp claws aside. And even those...those didn’t detract that much from her looks.

“You an ale type of girl or a mixed drink kind of girl?” he asked, tilting his head and a charming sort of smile. “It’ll help me narrow down what to pour you.”
Hidden 10 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by 13org
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13org Stay fresh!

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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm



Corinna let out a pleased expression and a mischievous grin when she saw the conflicting emotions on the man's face... His flushed cheeks, the way he was looking at her body and especially the nervousness in his voice and his wide open eyes when he looked at her arms and hands...
It was so... deliciously pleasing... She couldn't help herself but to lick her lips once more, this time almost showing her fangs. If he was paying enough attention on Corinna, Rich would certainly notice the very tip of her fangs reflecting the dim light of the bar area. The barman was too easy to read... To easy to manipulate... Too easy to play with... And... Too easy of a prey...

“You an ale type of girl or a mixed drink kind of girl?” Corinna heard the man asking with a charming smile on his face.

"Surprise me." Corinna said, with a wink.

"I'm not afraid of trying something a bit different... or even a bit stronger... In fact, it would even be rather exciting, don't you think...?" she asked, with a giggle.

"Would you accompany me for a drink?" Corinna asked, discreetly pointing towards a table on a dim lit corner.

"Dancing is indeed fun, but I also greatly enjoy a good conversation." Corinna said, with a kind smile.
"And this bar area is simply soo much my style... It has such a nice vibe..." She said, looking around.
"Well... This is coming from someone who has a house completely decorated in late Victorian style..." Corinna said, covering her mouth with her hand, laughing.

"I promise I wont bite..." she said, giggling.

Corinna would take her time with him... She was loving to play with him... The way she licked her lips previously, the discreet flirting and the way she is acting now... That discrepancy, that duality on her actions and intentions... It was almost too complex to a common, 'sane' person to do... But Corinna enjoyed that. She loved to see other's confused expressions, she simply adored to see them torturing themselves trying to understand her mind but failing miserably... But that was only the beginning... The climax was yet to come...
Hidden 10 mos ago 10 mos ago Post by Darked13
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Darked13 Just Archene / Really Just Archene

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Colab with: @Fallenreaper
Arc 2 Day 1 Afternoon
Location: Charles Aeon Residence



For Archene, the day has been rather uneventful specially compared to what had happened over night. Things were changing. Regardless, his plans had been going as expected.

However, now that the sun was over half-way its trip through the sky, Archene had a special destination in mind. Though such visit only appeared on his mind as he remembered a very important thing. The fact that he has barely visited his good friend in weeks. In the past, he could certainly say that it was complicated due to the other's relocation... but this time, he was even living in the same city as him, thus no excuses could be made.

Eventually, he was upon the door of Charles' house and without much thought, he began knocking on his friend's door. If memory didn't fail him, today wasn't a day where he'd be at home around this time.

Charles had lost track of time. He peeled back the haze of depression to focus on to the present, his ears finally caught the sharp sound on his door. For a brief moment, his expression darkened at the evidence of unexpected company. He didn’t relish meeting Rico’s associate again. The immortal exhaled his frustrations before he placed the cup discarded lightly upon the counter and casually walked into the foyer.

His hand cautiously gripped then pulled his front door open, his head pulled back in surprise. Charles narrowed his eyes to study the familiar figure waiting just on his doorstep. He took a moment to shift his head from right to left, appearing to expect someone else and finally invited Archene inside.

“Come in, I’ve just made some earl grey if you would like some.”

He stepped back into the foyer, giving his guest enough time to enter.

Archene smiles at Charles as the later looks at him, and with a polite smile he replies, "Thank you, I'll be glad to have some," before making his walking in. He glances towards Charles and then the outside to see if there was anything amiss. In the end, there was nothing, thus a question slipped out of his mouth, "Hello world!Were you expecting anyone?" He offered a light smile to his friend.

Charles’ lips curled into a weaker smile, his heart clearly not powering the mask. His feet trailed deeper into the foyer as he explained his behavior. Sleep deprivation etched his eyes and betrayed trouble nights, each one spent pouring over dead ends.

“I was expecting unwanted company to be truthful. Excuse my appearance, the last few nights have left me restless and unable to properly sleep. Please, make yourself at home while I get the tea.”

His figure strolled back into the kitchen. There was sounds of cups and a kettle moving, the stream done whistling, before he returned with two cups placed upon their saucers. A sugar bowl, honey jar, and minture pitch of milk settled in the center between them. After Archene took a seat, Charles set it down onto the table. He passed the Licenti a cup which was made well despite the teacher’s ragged appearance.

“If it isn’t to your liking, let me know. So what brings you here?”

The Licenti nodded thoughtfully at Charles before making his way in without any reservation. He walked over to the couch(chair/thing), quietly taking a seat. His eyes moving about the room as he waited for Charles' return.

"Did I ever refuse tea?" Archene smiled at Charles, raising the pitch to add a small dosage of milk to his tea before adding two spoons of sugar. He stirred the tea with rather practiced motions as he let out a soft sigh, "I came to check on an old friend I've barely spent time with while in the city." He half-smiled before lowering the spoon and raising the tea cup. He briefly sniffed it before taking a sip.

"Your tea is as wonderful as always," The Licenti was about to smile before his focus returned to Charles, "Though I must ask, what has gotten you in your condition."

“It’s complicated,” Charles admitted, his figure moved toward the recliner and settled down.

His right leg crossed over his left as he leaned forward, snatching up what felt like his third cup and leaned back into the seat. He took a single sip to allow the heat and flavor ease his stress. Sadly, it didn’t seem to be doing it job very well. Debating inside his mind, Charles decided to consult Archene’s long life and vast travel. He set his cup down then turned to one of his oldest friends.

“You wouldn’t have any knowledge about recovering missing memories… would you?”

"That depends on why the are missing. If it is just plain amnesia due to concussion or problems of the kind, a psychic or even just a potion can help." Archene replies, "But if by chance said memories were sealed, stolen or irreparably removed from you in some way... other than getting it back from wherever it went. Only people who play with memories and dreams, or proper psychics would have a chance of filling or fixing the blanks."

The Licenti quietly raises his cup again and sips, taking a deep breath before asking, "With anyone else, that'd be all I could say. But honestly, did you physically lose a memory or do you have one of them giving the feeling they were tampered? You aren't the kind who'd lose memories because you hit your head."

“That’s the concern… I have no idea. I don’t know what’s causing it or why they are missing.”

Charles let the information, his own concerns and worry air, as he continued, “After reviewing some of my memories, I found several just have pieces missing. Like they are being blocked from me. This concerns me a bit since I don’t know exactly what I did during those time periods.”

He didn’t let it be known he was also being blackmailed by someone that could have possible clues. Charles suspected that Archene wouldn’t take kindly to it and try to become involved somehow, either influencing the individual or taking the information through other means. He considered both to be dangerous to their health.

It is a very good thing that Charles does know Archene that well. His Licenti friend isn't one who'd stay still given the nature of the situation.

"Any chance that you actively withheld information from yourself? Though knowing you, I'd not expect that. The nature of the memories or the contents lost could give you reasons to do that." Archene asks thoughtfully, trying to find reasons to support that line of thought, or even for people to steal any of Charles memories.

“I doubt it. It’s a bit difficult to explain, it might be better if you experience it for yourself. Excuse me a moment, please.”

With those words in mind, Charles lifted off his chair then moved into the kitchen.

"Alright," Archene nodded at Charles as he went off. With the free time he had in hands, he proceeded to sip and finish his tea. Specially while it wasn't cold. It would be a waste to let a friend's gift go to waste. 'If it wasn't him, who could have messed with his memories?' The Licenti furrowed his brows, pressing a pair of fingers against the base of his horn.

Carefully Charles emerged with an ivory box in his hands. Ornate across the surface, it obviously held sentimental value to him as he set it down. In a practiced movement, he flipped the lid up then searched for a specific bead. Each one was impossible to tell apart until they could read the Vis within them like Charles. A few moments passed before he finally plucked the most recently used one.

“I need you to apply Vis to this while it’s in your palm,” Charles instructed, his hand held it out for Archene to hold.

Archene took the bead, looking at Charles thoughtfully for a moment before closing his eyes and applying vis to the bead. Then he saw it all. The strange sensation of being in another's feet, feeling a very different range of sensations than usual.

Lightning. Rain. Disgust. Guilt. Anger. Regret. And, wait... the end! The Licenti quickly opens his eyes as the memory ends and stares at Charles, "Who did you get involved with? Really. This is, certainly not just memory loss. I know that the feelings can make things a bit hazy so you might have not noticed, but your vis was certainly tainted towards the end of it."

Charles raised his eyebrow in question. His head tilted at the mention of his vis being tainted causing the hairs on his neck back to raise in alarm. He didn’t like the the sounds of it. He pressed forefinger and thumb together before pressing them to his lips in thought.

“I’ve been involved with many individuals, but what do you mean by tainted?”

"That isn't what I mean... I don't know who, or what, but it is overly malicious." Archene frowns, "Someone is purposefully blocking your memory, Charles. And likely, someone or something was getting hold of you at that moment. If the situation was different, I'd think it might have been a Licenti taking control of your body, but... given everything in this memory and that you are yourself right now, I'd have to look more into the possibilities."

The immortal stared at Archene a moment longer. His mind catching up with the words meaning, shocked slowly faded and freeing him from its grip. He broke the stillness washed over him as he leaned forward. Hands propped against his firmly pressed lips, a thoughtfulness replaced his stone-like expression, while he considered his friend’s statement.

“I think I will need something stronger than tea.This situation is far more complicated than I had hoped originally, especially since I need time to recollect who might be responsible. I have suspect at least.”

Promptly he rose his feet then made his way to the liquor cabinet, opening the glass door for the aged whiskey. He collected a glass before recalling his manners. Charles turned to Archene, his hand ready to grab another.

“Would you like a glass as well? It’s malted barley and from Scotland.”

"Having suspects is a good beginning. Just avoid doing things that might place you in the same situation again." Archene sighs briefly stroking his own hair as he watched Charles' reaction. He was still glad that the immortal could keep himself clear headed enough to begin thinking of solutions.

"But yes, a heavier drink seems appropriate for the moment," He said with a nod. Then again, it was not as if he could enjoy alcohol like humans could, but the flavor was still something that helped in situations like the one he found himself into.

“If it’s who I believe it is, let’s just say that situation was unavoidable,” Charles replied as he poured two glasses then thumped the whiskey down.

He picked up both glasses, handing one to Archene and downing his own in one swift movement. The whiskey burned at the back of his throat causing him to cough. Rubbing his heart, he carelessly placed the glass onto the table where he left it.

Settling back into his chair, he focused on getting answers.

“Do you know of any Licentia that could possibly have the ability to do something like this?”

Archene looked at Charles quietly as he poured the whiskey into the glasses, making no comment on his words. He took the glass and downed it as well before lightly setting the table. He sighed at Charles' question, "More than enough, but none would go out of their way for... whatever is it that they were doing. They are of the kind that is more likely to keep you on hold and feed on you as time goes on."

He shook his head, "And the thing is, someone strong enough to do that to you wouldn't go unnoticed by you and someone that wasn't strong enough wouldn't hope to try. Either way, no reason to let you go after getting hold of you."

The Licenti was honestly puzzled at that part specially, it wasn't a small effort to forcefully take control of one like like Charles. Why just do something like sealing his memories and doing nothing later? While silently thinking, the Licenti tilted his head his eyes looking towards Charles though at the moment what he was doing was closer to searching some remains of any strange vis in the Immortal.

“Reminds me of the years before Licentia and Prae went public with their existence,” Charles grumbled.

Already his fingers touched onto his brow, fingers gently rubbed away the budding headache surfacing, before they fell to curl under his chin. His eyes found themselves staring into far wall deep in thought. Things had gotten more complicated than he wished to learn, especially if his Aunt was involved with his condition. Letting the seconds slip by, something occurred to him.

“Well, your information certainly narrows down the suspects. Now, may I please retrieve my memory?”

His left hand extended as if to shake Archene’s hand.

"True," Archene nodded at Charles, "We did do shady things back then." He finally let out a sigh, even shaking his head, "Not that much has changed in that aspect."

At Charles request, the Licenti nodded, "Of course, I was only briefly borrowing." He smiled before shaking Charles' left hand. Though his smile didn't even falter, he still made the effort to avoid reflexively draining any amount of his friend's vis.

When the immortal’s hand made contact with Archene’s, his Vis wove through the Licenti’s. Gently probing and seeking out remains of Charles’ as it coaxed it out. His hand pulled free then formed a fist. Within the palm, silvery light glowed while a bead formed inside and revealed when he opened it.

“Thank you.”

With those words, Charles plopped the bead into his pocket before he settled back into his chair.

"No need to thank me," Archene smiled slightly, "Just giving back what wasn't mine to begin with. Though," The man paused wrapping his left hand around his right index and after a brief moment of focus, he had a pearly seed the size of a thumbnail on it. He held it out for Charles, "Keep this on you, and if you think that something like that will happen again. It can drain vis pretty, pretty quickly. It is set to do so. That should help you. If it helps to the point of leaving your clear minded but you feel that whatever vis inside you is wrong. Damage yourself and push said vis into the seed and, just get it to heal you." He smiled, "Best way to deal with an infection is to push it out, and destroy it. And if it doesn't help that way, as long as I'm half a kilometer away, I will find you and stop whatever is affecting you."

It was the best he could do for his friend. He breathed in, about to say something more, but stopped for a moment before saying with a serious face, "I won't ask you whom you suspect, but if you believe that me knowing it can help me help you, tell me. I can cope pretty well with a death, especially ones that can't be avoided. It would, however, be unforgivable to allow something to take away the free will of a friend."

“That’s the main issue. I rarely know when it will happen,” Charles emphasised the last word.

It was the most difficult part about the whole situation, especially being unable to tell what triggered it. Each memory seemed to have it happen at random causing him to feel like some sort of experiment. Cautiously he picked the seed from Archene then examined it.

“I doubt you could stop her, if she is responsible. She does have a shard of my soul after all and if she senses she is about to lose, she will most likely ensure you don’t win.” Charles commented darkly.

"I understand. Though if you happen to know next time, this is better than nothing." Archene sighed briefly, but still smiled faintly as Charles took the seed. It was just there on his hand inert. It was smooth and pearly, "To make it work, just push it hard enough against your skin and it will do the rest of the job. But really, only on a crisis. Also, if you do put it on someone else, it will work the same way, so be careful."

At the mention of 'her', the Licenti looked at Charles thoughtfully, "I don't know who she is, but yes, likely, the only way I can possibly stop the one responsible for this is killing them." He furrowed his brows, "And if she is the one who has that shard, honestly, it is better to see if there is a way to avoid going against her, a way to solve this without confrontation."

Fallen back into a relaxing position, Charles pinched the seed between his thumb and forefinger to try to understand it better. Its appearance reminded him of an uncooked grain of rice. Smooth, perfect and harmless, but he knew Archene’s warnings weren’t to be taken lightly. Archene’s seeds were quite impressive compared to other feats Charles had experienced in his life.

“It would be easier if it was on delay switch, so it could be inserted and drain when my Vis altered. Then again, life is far from easy. I’ll try, but I’m unable to say positively that I will succeed.” Charles assured his friend before setting the seed on the tea tray, within his sight.

His leg once more crossed over the other, his figure falling into a relaxed posture.

“Her name, last I recalled, was Morgana Le Fey. I suspect she’s changed it over the years which is why I’ve literally found no trace of her, not that I’ve searched very hard. Last time I met her was a very long time ago. The memory was locked away, but I still have a few recollections of her.”

"I'd also like if I could preset it that way, but such fine control does require my presence. For now, at least; eventually I'll make it work." Archene briefly paused, "That said, it is better to have something that can give you a chance of success instead of nothing." He smiled.

As he heard about her, the Licenti seemed to have no words for a few moments, "It is hard to get hold of someone trying to hide after you lose the trail, likely it would have been wasted effort if you did try harder." He sighed, "Having a name she used is better than nothing though."

“The bad part, I’ve tried to kill her once. That’s how I lost the piece of my soul. I wasn’t worried at the time because I was too injured to care, finally making it to a local town. I never saw her again. I couldn’t predict the mess she could cause to my life now or I wouldn’t have stopped until I got it back,” Charles sighed in regret.

Reaching for his whisky glass, he looked inside and considered getting himself another drink. The subject didn’t help his mood much. Finally deciding better of it, purely because Azulia had to be picked up tomorrow morning, he set it back down.

“Now… I’m left wondering over what to do.” A hint of depression threatened to overwhelm his calm.

"Besides the loss of memory and control, has that done anything else to you?" Archene half-smiled, "There is no point worrying over it now. Let life follow its course, if you manage to contact her ever again, then attempt to solve this. Otherwise, it'll only take away from you."

"As for what to do, live life and honestly, aren't there people around you in need. And those college students in need of guidance?" He smiled at Charles, "Also, about them. I hoped that I could get a tour at ZUMA and see your teaching young minds at an appropriate date." At least, this way he could see how all of this affects him while he is outside home while also sightseeing.

Charles paused to collect his thoughts. He shifted through the file cabinets of memories still within his head, seeking answers. There was no confidence he would find what he sought. After a moment, he came up empty as expected he would. They were absent from his head or simply forgotten.

“The answer to your question is: I don’t know. So far, most have been associated to violence and I’ve woken up in my last residence. Barely any evidence of what I’ve done left on me,” Charles said truthfully, no recalling anything out of the ordinary aside from his memory loss. Casually his attention then drifted to the request, addressing it with a grateful tone in his voice, “Addressing your request, I’m positive a tour can be arranged. It is my day off so I am afraid to say you won’t see me educating young minds. However, after the weekend, I will invite you to be a guest speaker for the younger students.”

Charles considered something for a moment, then subtly teased the Licenti, “If you can manage to behave, that is.”

"If you don't know, it means there was nothing done that is likely to haunt you besides your worry." Archene sighs, "Leave it behind," He half-smiles, "As for being a guest speaker," The Licenti grins, "I would love to do it. I just wonder what to talk about with them, but I'm sure we can think about the details later." He chuckles rather happily. He wouldn't ask -for that- from his friend, but if he offered, how could he refuse?

“I’m sure they will find questions to ask you themselves, through keep in mind they are children. Some details are best not elaborated.”

Charles adjusted his leg, feeling the tingling sensation spread thanks to it falling asleep. He hadn’t moved it in a while so it wasn’t a surprise, “I’ll also have a conversation with the headmaster over some issues with the College’s policy and confirm this is possible, including permission-slips for students to be present. For those who parents become concerned and prefer their children weren’t, I’ll have to make other arrangements for the day.”

Deep down, the immortal could understand the prejudice and fear toward Licentia. They were the hidden monsters that once consumed humans in the shadows. This subconscious fear was difficult to rein in and it clouded the mind something. He knew it well since he failed to tame his paranoia over centuries. In fact, Archene had been the only Licenti that managed to plow through the instinct dread thanks to unusual circumstances.

“Once things are approved, we’ll set things up. Until then, shall we begin the tour?”


Ls Ps Nx Ps
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Demonic Angel I'm 1% Angel and 99% Devil. Woohoo!

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Location: One Night In Hell
Time:Day 1 (Arc 2) About 7am


“When a woman asks this it tends to go sour. Then again I don't have much of a choice. Considering that there are some shifty things playing in the background of Charles’ life I need to know about. Not adding that bitch’s words keep playing in my mind. Not like I need that at this very moment.” He thought to himself as Marsha beckoned. Killian glanced around the room, as if to scan for anymore mischief, before walking over like a good mutt.

Killian placed on the most realistic smile he could and walked towards his “favorite boss”. Granted at times this adult woman was more childish. Specially when it came towards a certain fox yet something about his recent behavior was setting off alarm bells and such. Another thing which to asked about at a later date. “Yes Marsha? Is there anything wrong?”
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Emma
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Masha


Arc 2 Day 1
{One Night in Hell club | Around 7 pm }

@Demonic Angel


Masha watched him come over, eyebrow quirked up in expiration for him to notice his girlfriend sitting right there. But the boy seemed oblvious to what was right in front of his face just then. She'd say his head was in the clouds, but that didn't seem very like Killian either.

"Oh no, nothing wrong at all," she purred playfully, reaching a hand over to the woman sitting next to her just then. "Just wanted to introduce you to my friend here. I think you and she would get along so well."

Emma for her part just sat silently and waited for Killian to look at her, her expression between concerned and amusement.

{} {} {}


@13org

Rich couldn't help his green eyed following her tongue along her lips, catching the glint of sharper than normal canines in her mouth. “Yeah…” he agreed a little breathlessly, nodding his head slightly. “Try new…bolder things…”

He shook his head clear and turned his back on her for a moment to grab at a few bottles and things behind him. When he turned back he grabbed a mixer cup and started his work. It was obvious that despite his age, he one very well what he was doing. The ease at which he poured, measured, mixed, and generally moved about behind the bar was something that was almost natural looking despite his size. He looked more like he should have been standing watch at the door instead of serving drinks.

As he worked he still talked, only sounding slightly distracted. “As much as that sounds nice,” he started in reply to her request to move over to a closer, cozier place, “I can't. Gotta work still.” He handed her a short glass filled with an red drink and an expectant smirk on his face.

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Upon the Horizon There Looms a Frozen Queen.

Ominar - The Spire
Collab between @Old Amsterdam @yoshua171


Light and wind in equal parts made the room a turbulent place where one would not expect to find such. Where usually there would be glass to bar the wind from the Exeo’s office, there was only empty space with jagged blades at the edges of the frame. Aismael stood with her back turned to Vaciti, hands clasped behind her backs, nails cleanly manicured, clothes in pristine condition--though windblow, as was her golden hair. The light framed her silhouette and while one might feel awe and inspiration at the picturesque image of her for a moment, the reality of the situation would soon dawn on them as it surely would Vaciti.

The window had been shattered. Frost stung Vaciti’s face. Aismael was furious.

Making no move to turn and acknowledge the Exeo-to-be, the Queen-heir let the silence hang for longer than was polite, before breaking the silence.

“Vaciti vex Contierre,” she said, and her voice was ice.

Frighteningly cold vis flowed from her form, passing from the room and into the evening air. Outside, high in the sky, the sun’s fading light was ever so slowly filtered as clouds of unnatural blue gradually gathered and spread throughout the city.

“What a pleasure it is to see you again. You may rise.” Frost, somehow, failed to accumulate on the ground and furniture in the office, leaving everything ‘cept the window frame and the two prae untouched. If she paid close attention she might notice the faintest hint of steam at the very edges of the room. So thin that it wasn’t easily noticeable or even terribly apparent upon observation.

“I’m glad to know that someone so eminently competent will be under my instruction,” as she turned she said it stopping so she was standing sideway, her piercing cold gaze locked on Vaciti. There was the faintest of smiles on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I hope your trip was uneventful,” she prodded gently, though a storm to rival the deepest most harsh winter roiled beneath the surface of her calm exterior. Altogether, her seeming calm would only sow a greater unease when contrasted with the biting wind of the room and the gathering storm outside.

Vaciti rose as she was bidden, holding her head high and unflinching at the wind and the cold. She was uneasy in this situation, the obvious wrath of her superior biting at her. But she was better than those who might have displayed such fear, such uneasiness. No, she was better than that. Her eyes may have betrayed a small slit of that unease as restlessness, but nothing else would show it.

There was a small disturbance further in, perhaps of a visual distortion created from the frost creeping through the room and along her spine, a trick of the eyes perhaps. Vaciti, however, attributed it further to the power of Aismael.

At the compliment, Vaciti bowed her head slightly, her face remaining an otherwise neutral mask.

The question lingered for just a moment before Vaciti twirled her hand in motion. “The trip was uneventful, my Exeo. Nothing of note, nothing of consequence,” she replied in her musical voice. Where Aismael was ice, Vaciti's voice was like warm honey. “What may I do for you, Excellency?”

Silver eyes regarded her, cutting to the bone just as the cold around them did. A lesser prae would have been bent or broken by it. She was pleased that Vaciti was not, but it didn’t show. “There is an infestation in my city, Vaciti,” she began, walking to the side of her desk. She placed her hand on the surface of the richly colored wood. Ice crystallized and spread over its surface, but never layered it, instead staying at a static level. The same distortion appeared over the surface of the desk.

Eyes having turned to the wood for a brief moment and then to a painting, the Exeo continued. “It is...a small thing. I believe it can be crushed before it becomes a problem. However, much like recent events, it brings to light the silhouette of a greater problem.”

Her gaze shifted to Vaciti’s eyes and held there, unshakeable, dominating, and chilling in their intensity. “I’ve put a man in charge of a small taskforce. You will oversee it alongside him. You have three weeks to wipe out the pests and bring their leaders before me. If you succeed in this, and perhaps another choice task or two, you will be formally recognized and your place beneath our divine mother, the God-Queen Amana, will be assured.” She lifted her fingertips from the desk and closed the distance between them, placing the same hand in front of her, palm up.

She said nothing, but nonetheless the prae would know what Ais desired of her.

Vaciti watched the scene unfold with her unease growing, as the frost continued to expand. No, frost wasn't correct. That was more crystallized, more like ice. An infestation, a mess, a bit of… An issue. Vaciti thought briefly of the news, banishing the thought from her mind immediately. She could not afford to show weakness now, no. She had to display control over herself.

She held Aismael's gaze unflinchingly, despite the sheer ice behind the eyes, and nodded once to display her understanding of the words.

”Consider it done, Exeo.”

As the Exeo raised her hand, Vaciti followed. Mirroring the movement on a slight pause, her own ungloved hand rose, the glove in her other, to meet Aismael's.

Immediately, a cold, stinging pain would shoot through her body, before vanishing, replaced by the refreshing sensation one might experience when plunging full body into a frigid pool. “If you do not succeed, I will see to it that you no longer bring the indignity of failure to our kind,” with that she broke contact and turned her back on the woman. Halfway across the room, she spoke again, her tone brokering no argument, “Go.”

Vaciti spared no words, instead simply turned on her heels and exited the room the way she had entered, glove sliding over her hand once more.

Out from the cave, and into the den, she thought warily.

As Vaciti departed, the prae certainly descending the Spire with haste, Aismael returned to her place before the shattered window, hands at her sides, relaxed. With every breath she took greater quantities of frigid vis pulsed from her form, now with greater vigor for she had no need to restrain herself lest she harm Vaciti.

Her jaw worked as icy clouds fell upon the city, the temperature swiftly dropping as a result. She watched, her cold, furious eyes gazing out on the city. To herself she whispered these words.

“I will find you...and you will suffer for your crimes.”

With those words ice fell upon the city, the Exeo retreated into her study in silence, and a solitary tear froze on her cheek.
Hidden 10 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by 13org
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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm



Corinna couldn't help but smile as she saw his reaction. It was really adorable the way he answered her, the nervousness in his voice, his eyes glued on her, following every single movement she made... But even though the man was completely infatuated with her, his movements as he started preparing her drink were agile, precise and made clear that he knew what he was doing. Despite his young looks and the apparent nervousness on his tone, he was certainly experienced on his job.
Corinna silently watched his agile hands moving as he prepared her drink.

“I can't. Gotta work still.” he said, handing her a red cocktail with an expectant smirk on his face.

Gently taking the glass in her hands, she took a small sip of it. The tart, but sweet taste of the pomegranate leaving a delicate, but sweet aftertaste on her mouth together with the orange liquor and the lime juice added an unique citric note to it.

"Incredible!" Corinna replied, with a seductive smirk, looking at him.

"Not only good looking, but skilled and with agile hands as well..." Corinna said, with a mischievous smirk.

"By the way, you haven't told me your name yet... I'm Corinna. Enchanted to meet you." She said, holding out her hand with the palm facing downward, in a formal and rather antiquated greeting. Even though he had already seen her arms, hands and fingers ending in rather scary claws, it was the first time he would touch them. If he did so, he would realize that albeit rather cold on touch, they were as smooth as their appearance suggested. The shiny exoskeleton could even be considered beautiful by some...

"Giving a charming client a bit of special attention is still working, isn't it?" Corinna said, replying to his previous statement that he had to work.

"You wouldn't let me sit alone and drink this wonderful cocktail all by myself, would you?" She asked, with a mischievous expression, looking directly to his eyes with an alluring stare.
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@13org

Rich watched her as she took a drink, waiting for her reaction. He smiled smugly at her praise of the drink but the blush that had been hinting under the freckles on his cheeks came out much more forcefully at the rest of her praise. He really shouldn't be so taken in by her words, he was a bartender, and even if she wasn't far too elegant to be talking to him like that, girls flirted with him all the time because of his job in hopes of cheap or free drinks.

He took her offered hand with no thought, only looking at once he'd grasped it in his larger one. His hands, which while a little work rough, felt like they were course, callosed covered things against the smooth one. He had expected more sharpness to them, but ones the whole, they weren't. "Rich," he replied with that still somewhat nervous smile.

He withdrew his hand from hers after a normal amount of time and looked past her to where Masha had disappeared with her friend. He had to really consider who he would rather be upset with him more. Masha or Corinna. Who'd hurt him more if he did the wrong thing? "I ah... I don't onow..." he said hesitantly, looking down instead of right at her just then, pretending to clean a spot on the counter in front of him.
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Sarah Reiter and Amon Relmeral

One Night in Hell

Arc 2, day 1
Time: 7:00 pm
Walking past most of the line, she grabbed a more cute than hot Prae's hand near the front of the line. The cool air cut across and through her dress, and she looked up at him smiling. "Hi there. Do you mind if I pretend I'm your girlfriend for a bit? I'll buy you a drink~" Sarah said, also trying to go for cute. The boy had very light hair, trending towards the younger side, even with the Prae advantage. He didn't seem too intimidating when it came to ambient vis, and she knew she'd be even less impressive to him. The dress fit her even better out in the wild (so to speak) than it did in front of her mirror. Sarah tried to ignore the fact that she had to look down to see the Prae, focusing instead on being overly affectionate.

Amon raised his eyes at the flashily dressed girl, somewhat literally in this case as she was taller than him, and figuratively, because it was quite a surprise. "Well I would ask if we have to pretend but I'm also not an ass. How about I buy you a drink, you pretend I'm your boyfriend and we call it even?" Amon asked cheerily. Frankly she seemed a little clingy, but he didn't really mind much at the moment, after all he barely knew her so it wasn't fair to judge.

She laughed, quietly, while nodding her head in affirmation. "I feel like you're on the losing end of that deal, but I won't complain loudly." Before they could continue, the bouncer motioned them forward, and waved them past quickly. He didn't seem to notice the mismatched couple, and Sarah didn't seem to care either. She gave him a bit more room once they were past the door, walking beside him, as opposed to against him. "What's your name, by the by?" She asked, watching him with a gentle ease surrounding her. The word to describe her was probably comfortable. Sarah was in her element here.

"Amon's the name, ligh- well you'll see what my game is later. What do you need a fake bf for anyway, isn't half the point of these things to candoodle Miss... ?" Amon asked casually as they approached the bar to buy each other drinks instead of buy drinks for themselves like normal people. His eyes scanned the crowd for official looking people and also people likely to throw him out. He was planning on doing something flashy to get attention and make his subsequent request for a job more appetizing, it would be a bit of a shame if he got thrown out beforehand because someone thought he was doing something aggressive.

"Oh my god, you actually used the word candoodle" She said, a half-snort half-laugh escaping her mouth as they approached the bar. "My name is Sarah, and I just wanted to skip the line with an excuse to talk to you." The girl said, seeming honest. It was easier for her to get the attention of the bartender than Amon, though she also had a bit more sex appeal. He was lacking a few inches in one of the places it counted. Ignoring that train of thought, she turned to him with the bartender walking over. "What would you like, my white knight who saved me from the cold?" She asked, smiling wide at her own joke.

Amon found himself laughing as well, Sarah's impulsive reaction contagious. "Hey, it's a good word." he said, mockingly defending himself from her unjust mockery! The two of them took a seat and Sarah quickly got the attention of the bartender, albeit not hard to do in that outfit. "I'll take that compliment, though I warn you I'm even more interesting then I look. A martini with a twist will do for me; and what does the damsel in distress desire?" Amon asked confidently, his speech smooth and measured, casual banter like this came natural to him at this point.

She hadn't actually considered it beforehand, but a martini did sound nice. "Your Damsel would also enjoy a martini," Sarah said, nodding at the bartender. Turning back to Amon, she smiled. "You said something about light earlier? You're Prae, so I'm guessing you're a magic man?" Her voice was curious, clearly wanting him to continue that train of thought from earlier.

"Magic man is as apt a description as any. I'm a wandering performer and I've wandered here, looks like it could be a fun place so I'm thinking about putting on a show, to convince the staff I'm a worth hire for however long I'm sticking around for. " Amon said flippantly. His plans were no secret so he didn't mind talking about them, after all the rest of the crowd would be unprepared for his surprise so it wouldn't ruin it to tell one person.

Another giggle escaped her lips. "That's your plan? Am I mistaken, or is it not normal for people to start showing off their talents in crowded clubs? I can play a bit of violin, should I just start preforming over the music?" Sarah asked, clearly not meaning harm by the teasing. "Despite my negativity, I hope you do well for yourself!" She said, the bartender suddenly sliding the two drinks across the bar's top. She slipped some cash out of her pocket, and slid it across the counter. Taking a sip, she enjoyed the taste. Amon's alcohol choice and the drink itself.

"Hm, is it really that odd? I figured it was a good way to get attention. Do you think just applying would be a better idea? Most of the time I just do my thing and people throw some money at me." Amon shrugged and grabbed his glass, taking some of his own money out to pay for Sarah's. He shook his glass around a little and the clear drink swirled around for a bit: then there was a tiny flash of light and it became a swirling vortex of colors like that of a far away galaxy, sparkling purple and blue twined around each other. He took a sip of the colorful concoction and smiled. "I figured I could brighten the place up a little."

Bemused curiosity lit up Sarah's face as she watched the contents of his glass. "Again, the best of luck. I'm going to find a friend, but it was nice talking to you. Do you want to exchange phone numbers?" She asked, then laughed a bit to herself. "Not to sound like a character in a Pokémon game"

Amon set down his drink and it returned to normal. "Of course! I'd be sorely amiss as to forgo the chance for further conversation with such an alluring damsel, though I think I'll drop that nickname for it as I get the feeling its really rather unfitting. " Amon flicked his wrist and his phone rolled up his sleeve into his hand: though it would appear more as though it had teleported there. "I think I'll take you advice and your number if you're be so kind."

Taking his phone, she quickly entered some information into it, and turned off the screen before handing it back. "Text me, I'd love to talk to you again," Sarah said, placing the phone on the bar top between them, before downing her martini. "I'm sure I'll see you again" Standing up from the bar, she moved further into the club without looking back.

The phone returned to Amon's sleeve without him bothering to look at it, "Sounds good, you can count on it." He said cheerily and take another sip of his martini as Sarah walked away. Guess he needed to find the employer of this fine establishment. He waved the bartender over.
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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm

Corinna giggled at the man's nervousness as he said his name. It was almost ironic. Even though his hands were larger than hers, almost enveloping Corinna's, he wasn't the one in charge of that conversation. Unable to hide his reactions and feelings, it was very amusing to see his face redden as she talked with him, or the way he looked away, trying to avoid looking her in the eyes.

He was so... innocent that Corinna almost felt bad for playing with him... Almost...

But the man's uncertainty and lack of confidence and hesitation were starting to annoy her. While she certainly wanted to avoid any unnecessary attention, she could afford being a bit more... Aggressive on her approach.

"Is this imaginary dirty spot on the counter really more interesting than me?" Corinna asked, leaning forward, almost whispering as she raised his chin with one of her sharp fingers, making him look her in the eye.

"I'm sure that whoever is the one that is back there is surely having a good time..." She said, with their faces so close one from another that if he tried, he could easily steal a kiss from her.

"But I won't force you..." Corinna asked, slowly and delicately taking her finger away from his chin and giving a step back.

"Drinking by myself can be quite lonely and I just wanted someone to toy with... Well... I will admit... It is incredibly fun to tease you and watch your reactions..." Corinna said, with a chuckle.

"You are so sweet and innocent that I couldn't help myself. Once you started getting nervous I simply got carried away... Maybe I took it a bit too far though... Cruel, perhaps... But I'm a cruel woman." Corinna said, waving to him and walking to a table in a dim lit corner of the bar area.

"Anyways, see you around, Richie... If you change your mind that is..." Corinna said, already walking away.

@May
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Rich

Arc 2 Day 1
{One Night in Hell club | Around 7 pm }


Rich swallowed as he felt her fingers under his chin, lifting his face up as she basically shamed him for not jumping at her offer. His blush only deepened as he looked at her. “It's just...my boss…” he mumbled, maybe not even loud enough for her to hear him over the music and the talking patrons around them and everything else.

But then she was calling him ‘innocent’ and his blush turned to bit of frustration. He was not innocent. Maybe easily flustered at the moment, but not innocent. But who wouldn’t be flustered when a woman as pretty as her, with far more than looks to make him question his sanity, was talking to them like she was just then? Well maybe Masha wouldn’t...but that was another reason to be flustered too.

And then she was walking away and he knew that he was going to make a dumb decision either way. So maybe go with the fun one. Provided it was more fun than not. But there was no way to know without going.

He gave the briefest tap to the other bartenders shoulder to let her know that he was leaving her for a minute there before he was on the other side of the bar, his long legs carrying him after her through the other people milling about and dancing.

@13org
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Celaira Lore Mistress

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The Aftermath - Part One

Arc II - Day 1 - 1:35AM
collab with: @yoshua171, @Celaira, @Tuujaimaa, and @CorrosiveCherry


A harsh bloom of light against the backdrop of a dark sky and the roiling waves of the English Channel. The water boiled, steam rising from it and obscuring the sky. Even so the light of the tremendous blast remained, casting an ominous glow upon the horizon, coloring the sky a fierce, blinding white.

An invisible force rippled over the surface of the Channel until, with a sharp crack like a thousand bolts of lightning striking at once, the wave passed through Ominar. Waves broke against the coast, devouring much of the shipyard. Windows rattled in their frames, and by the sea, many outright shattered.

The earth shook. The air vibrated. Power winked out and did not return for a time. Then the wave passed them over, dissipating into the distance. The city was left with only devastation and silence.
2:15AM - 4:00AM



The first post was on Twitter. A picture of a mostly white backdrop, timestamped for the pitch of night. Three words captioned the image: “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
French, of course. ‘What is this?’
86 images followed. 17 were near ground zero.
46 of them had flesh among the shrapnel. 12 were traffic cameras. 6 were immediately wiped for violating Terms of Service.
The last 12 had emojis. Such as it was; not everyone understood the gravity of what they were seeing. The rumbling was merely an earthquake; the lights were fireworks, perhaps?
What they didn’t realize is the light was across the English Channel, not on the coast. What they didn’t realize is that it wasn’t fireworks. It was something altogether worse.
“Hey, what was that earthquake at like 2?”

“Has anyone seen Aimee DuPuis? She’s my girlfriend overseas. Please contact me if you have any info.”

“I swear that these military tests are getting shittier and shittier. We all need to defund this defense stuff somehow. War’s not the answer.”

“Guys. I think an Exeo just died.”
“Isn’t there a prae dignitary in Solhavre right now?”
“I think an Exeo might have just died.”

There it was. The beginning. The precipice of chaos, where a thousand digital voices scream out in agony, and then, the greatest, most terrible cacophony.

The first headline was perhaps the worst one. National Enquirer. Tabloid.

”PRAE EXEO DEAD: LICENTIA TO BLAME?”

Plastered right on their Facebook. Ruralites were the first to read it, as they always were. They chomped on the sensationalism and ran with it.
“These Polly cunts can’t be trusted. #I’mwithSolhavre”
“Who the fuck do licentia think they are? You can’t kill people and get away with it. Vampires. #I’mwithSolhavre”

“My best friends are Prae. I haven’t seen them. They’re probably fucking terrified and hiding from those god damn nackie fucks. #SolhavPrae”


“#SolhavPrae.”

And lo--the rallying call, in no time at all. It trended before the sunrise, and it spread like wildfire in the morning dew.

The news flickered dully on the television screen as the morning coffee brewed. A fresh pot. It was a necessary evil, at 4 in the morning. Of course, Naomi had been awake for an hour by that point, and she’d been watching. Rapt attention.

Central Ominar - 1:34AM

Uptown and southwest of the coast outside a quiet 24 hour cafe, two well-dressed figures sat at a small table. The night sky was prominent above them, though the stars were lost amidst the light pollution of the city. The man of the pair placed a card down on the table, but said nothing, his eyes on his female companion, expectant. However, before she could respond, his eyes flickered, a bright luminescence pouring from them in a brief flash.

A ripple passed through the air. He stood and turned, facing the northeast. His gaze seeming to pierce through the natural obstructions in the city to gaze upon the coast.

Vis everywhere was flowing in that direction, pulled by an unseen force. “Brace yourself,” he warned, though he knew that she would feel it too.

She might notice the consistency of his body become somehow more solid. Denser. The air around him continued to ripple and form eddies of faint blue light and shadow, locked in a dance.

As her companion rose from his seat, the woman’s sienna colored eyes glanced from him to the sky. She felt something not-so-gently tugging on her vis. As the flash--no, the plume of light filled the night’s sky, she too rose from her chair. “Crow. What’s happening?” Her voice was soft, a lilt of winter dancing through it as she questioned the man.

Swiftly, the calm night air was burned away by the tremendous bloom of light. Crow stared, shaking his head. “I’m not sure,” he replied. Deep within, yet far away, something stirred. He swallowed and--tentatively--drew on the well of power. To Yvette the dance of vis about him would flare and then expand outwards, forming complex patterns. Half turning towards her, eyes intense, his hand touched the side of the metal table and pushed. It was thrown, clear across the street and he used its absence to close the distance between them, his left arm raising, fingers splayed. The dancing field of vis solidified, he braced himself, placing his other hand on her shoulder. She found herself locked in place before a powerful blast shook the street and set the air a quiver. They remained standing by virtue of Crow’s vis.

For several minutes the ground shook and the air with it, though the shockwave dissipated far more swiftly. Miles away, closer to the unseen coast, he heard glass patter against the ground. A hunger stirring after roughly five minutes of waiting, defenses up, he cut off the flow of vis from the depths and let go of Yvette, pulling away slightly.

As the table between them flew across the street, Yvette glanced up at Crow. He had closed the distance between them, vis rolling off of him in intricate waves. She watched him calmly as his hand fell on her shoulder, locking her into place, his other stretched out in front of them. She could just barely see the half dome vis shield he’d put up around them as the shockwave hit it. Though, he had protected them from the push of the wave, some of the harsh wind still managed to get passed his barrier, causing the precursor’s silken white hair to lash out behind her.

The ground beneath them shook violently, and Yvette watched as small cracks burst forth from the concrete. Thankfully, it looked like the cafe, and other buildings around them weren’t suffering the same fate as the street, though she could clearly see lights begin to flicker. Once the quake stopped, and Crow finally stepped away, Yvette took a moment to survey the area of the city they were in. The lights in most--if not all--of the buildings were out.

After a moment or two of silence, Yvette spoke, “What... was that.”

He wasn’t sure and that was a disturbing thought for a man who dealt in information.



The brisk air of Solhavre's port was in great contrast to the sky looming above it, hundreds of floating lanterns giving the sky the illusion of being a canvas in some artist's painting of a refulgent starscape. Fandaniel si Louviere looked up at the glimmering lights with no small amount of admiration, taking in the beauty of the scene in a rare moment of reflection and introspection. She had travelled from Valence up to Paris, and from Paris to Solhavre, in her journey towards Ominar, and she had done it subtly, a manner largely unbefitting her rigidly lawful nature - and as she found herself drew back into her thoughts, she smiled beneath the cloak and hood she had donned to keep her from both the cold and from plain sight. She had picked an unfortunate night to travel discreetly - with the visiting dignitary from Priscus - but her plans could not be delayed any further. As she attempted to (extremely obviously, unfortunately) keep herself to herself, she made a note to check the time on her phone. 01:03, November 7th, 2054.

It has been a long time coming, she reasoned with herself. They won't stop--none of them--until they win. With each of us that dies, victory slips further away.

The words thrummed in her mind like a furious rhythm, the staccato of their meaning hammering away at her relentlessly. She had only realised that she had felt this way for years until she had seen, and it had taken no small amount of loss for her to peel away the veneer of righteousness that had occluded her sight. The Louviere family had to change, or they were all lost. Even with the thirteen Scions, there was no way that they co--

And then the blasting of horns and a metallic voice across a tannoy slammed her into the waking world once more. "Le bateau 01:15 de Solhavre à Ominar partira sous peu. Veuillez présenter votre carte d'embarquement à la porte. The 01:15 boat from Solhavre to Ominar will be departing shortly. Please present your boarding pass at the gate."

She had to admit that English still struck her as a little odd. She knew the language - intimately - but it was a recollection that wasn't quite hers. She felt like someone else had borrowed the space inside her head where languages were kept and was seamlessly transitioning between her mother tongue of French and English whenever she heard either language. It had never been particularly odd to her until she heard both spoken in rapid succession. The moment of confusion was enough to get her going, though, and she boarded the boat without incident. At 01:15 exactly, the boat left the harbour and Fandaniel waved the soil of her country goodbye, for a time.

The sailing was smooth, without incident. Despite the chill, there was very little in the way of wind and the vessel barely broke the glassine water. The floating lanterns illuminated only the surface of the sable sea, mere impressions of light, and the bitter chill of early spring cut through the illusion of warmth provided by the airborne display. A small smile crept across her face as she leaned onto the railing, taking in a deep breath. Moments of introspection were a rarity she seldom had the time or inclination to enjoy--though this once, it had been nice. She thought about her daughter, who was set to meet her in Ominar after many years apart. She thought about the Taeryn family, who she would have to find and convince to help her. And as she thought of those things, she ticked them off of a mental list and instead decided to focus on the journey.

Fifteen minutes in, Fandaniel could sense something was wrong. Not only could she feel the ambient vis being wrenched towards Solhavre, but the same instincts that guided her in battle screamed danger. Every sense blared at her to get away from the port city, and though it had visibly hit her first the same realisation dawned upon the other passengers promptly. The air felt like the calm before the storm, charged with some unseen force of agitation, and then in an instant it exploded. Fandaniel's perception became nothing but white fire, and it was through instinct alone that she brought up a massive shield of her vis to shield the vessel she was travelling on from the initial wave of force. A few seconds later, the explosion hit and rattled the shield severely, before breaking cleanly through with much diminished force. The heat and the force knocked most of the passengers cleanly onto their backs, and the tannoy of the vessel blared loudly with warnings to everyone to get to shelter within.

The flames had mostly gone around the vessel by the time Fandaniel's vision returned to normal, and as soon as she could see again she leaned over the side of the railing and looked towards Solhavre. She watched the city vanish into the inky depths below, and quickly turned to assess the damage in Ominar. Solhavre was simply gone--she could save none there--but there were people in Ominar who would surely need assistance. Her thoughts turned to Yvette, and she waited for the boat to arrive to properly assess the damage.

The boat's arrival at the crumbling cluster of debris sinking into the sea was fairly swift. Fandaniel's shield had only saved the boat from the very worst of the impact, and though it was structurally intact enough to have sailed them to Ominar without joining Solhavre beneath the waves, it was very clearly in a state of disrepair. Still, as Fandaniel surveyed the area she had gotten to disembark from the boat to, she noted that it was markedly more intact than the infrastructure. Any part of the port that had actually been in water was simply gone--no trace of it having existed remained at all--and even the vis in the air felt cloying with smoke and heat, and just a tinge of something sweetly pungent. The unloading and loading bays had suffered the brunt of the force that had actually made it to land, and piles of twisted metal and odd bits and pieces of no longer recognisable goods were splayed out across the concrete like the blood from a wound. There were clear and distinct trails of detritus into the ocean, which filled the area with a gentle hissing sound, sputtering like too-hot oil in a pan. The destruction lessened as Fandaniel wove her way inland, crossing broken slabs of asphalt which once comprised the roads with the trained ease of one used to cleaning up battlefields. Many buildings at this point were only superficially scarred, grey scorch marks coating the walls like ivy, but there were clear cracks in the older buildings, and shattered glass welcomed the shaken residents of the buildings like a carpet.

There were, remarkably, very few actual casualties. Those on the docks had likely died instantly, and the majority of the force that would have killed the rest was cushioned by the stacks upon stacks of cargo. Those injured had already been taken care of by the emergency authorities--who had most of the area remarkably under wraps, considering the damage to the roads--and people were scrambling enough to not notice one woman sprinting her way through the haze of the smoke and the remnants of the blinding white light that had accompanied the initial explosion. The power lines had been damaged--badly--and the buildings would require extensive repairs to get back to their old selves, but Ominar looked considerably better than Solhavre, that much was certain. Rather than check her phone to see where Yvette was (figuring that service in the area would be unreliable at best), Fandaniel extended her senses into the surrounding vis. Sensing a fellow Scion came to her as naturally as breathing, and it took her very little time to find the shining light of her daughter's vis in her extrasensory periphery--along with a notably darker and denser presence. She had allies, it would seem, and that was something to be thankful of.

5:53 AM, Ominar Harbor



There was a boulder in the street. Not just any old boulder; it was a cobbling of mortar and brick that had so decided that, in the clamor of terror and chaos, that it would, in fact, decide to take a nap in that very spot.

Which, of course, proved difficult for the passers-by, among whom happened to be Ominar’s public services, ranging from a small train of ambulances to a fire engine that looked about as red as its driver’s face.

In the din of confusion among the bevy of trucks and cars, some had decided to attempt to persuade this boulder, suggesting it should find a new place to come to rest.

’But no, Ser Boulder, you cannot simply rest here; we’ve all jobs to do, and you are impeding our progress,’ implored their arms, pressed intimately up to its rocky surface. ’We really would have preferred that you had stayed up on your building, for it is truly worrying at our patience,’ added the magitech that some of the specialists were carrying.

But, of course, the boulder would not listen. It was a boulder, and it had no ears.

Until Naomi showed up, ticker-tackering away on her phone, ears and tail whicker-winding this way and that as she bobbed and weaved between the maze of metal and men. One unlucky fellow caught a faceful of fur, leading to a staccato of coughing and sputtering.

“Shit! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Noted Nao, briefly looking up from her screen to catch a glimpse of her surroundings. It was then that she realized that Google Maps was really quite incapable of properly measuring recent events, as the road had looked perfectly fine on the screen.

But lo, there it was. The infamous boulder.

Thankfully, however, Naomi had come prepared. Hecatoncheires, 20 strong, floated around her, softly orbiting around Aldous and George, those massive hands she was never seen without.

Her fingers went limp, phone held by the barest grip. Springing to a sudden, alert sort of life, Hecatoncheires began to assemble itself before her, clicking into place as she watched the colored dots fit into the patterns she knew so well. In moments, there was a finished assembly, a rune she’d only recently memorized for this specific occasion.

And, of course, this rune was very persuasive, specifically to earless boulders. It did not cause the boulder to rupture and explode, nor anything with nearly so much aplomb; it simply punched a hole cleanly through it, with one long, perfectly cylindrical rod--save for either end, which maintained the shape of the boulder’s outer edges--sloughing off and onto the ground.

Nao would perform this magic no less than fourteen times until the boulder realized it was, in fact, no longer a boulder, and conceded the point. She quickly used her two massive palms to roll the fourteen logs of sandstone off onto the sidewalk, creating a single lane of egress for the hapless workers.

”Excuse the mess! I’m glad I happened by, honestly. You guys would’ve been at it for hours without some sort of specialist.

...Or at least an actual magitech drill. I don’t think blasting rods are quite meant for this sort of labor.”


She was met by a loud throng of cheering as soon as her work was done, and the dull throttling of engines roaring to life. Naomi, herself, had convinced one of the policemen to let her ride in the passenger seat, quickly killing two birds with one stone.

Riding in the passenger seat of a cop car was one of her bucket list items, and she also didn’t want to pay for an Uber. (”Their rates are insane right now because of the harbor thing,” she noted, in the process of persuading the officer.)

The rest of the drive was quiet, almost sober, as the two of them drove through the now-ruined parts of town. It was dead outside, but as they grew nearer and nearer to the portside, signs of life began to appear. People of every cut of cloth--prae, licentia, human--were all congregating, working with each other to fix the damage that had so recently occurred. It certainly wasn’t without its spats, however. Prae and licentia, specifically, could be seen arguing in the streets, and some had even come to blows--which the officer was forced to handle. Nao, realizing her welcome had become overstayed, trudged out towards the beach in the hopes of finding her own locals to interrogate--preferably ones that didn’t want to punch her in the face. Looking the way she did at a time like this, however, Naomi couldn’t hardly blame them.

It would be at the beachside that she found her ‘local.’ However, it wasn’t Ominar that this specific person hailed from.

The woman’s sober face looked like someone had smeared sulfur on her upper lip twenty years ago, and her face had just stuck that way.

”Hey,” she began, maneuvering around the debris--anyone who was still among the rubble, so close to what was once Solhavre, was worth speaking to.

”Do, uh… Y’come here often? Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s terrible. Let me restart.”
Naomi strolled up towards the new face.

”I’m Naomi, your friendly neighborhood visual disruption. You seem awfully alone out here. Do you need someone to...”

A vague feeling of recollection hit Naomi like a sleeping boulder hitting the pavement.

”What--Miss Louviere. Oh, fuck, you’re Miss Louviere. From the house meetings.”

A beat followed as Naomi’s stomach dropped cleanly into her bladder.

“Hi, uh, it’s--Nao. Chāyì-Popjay. How, uh…”

“How are you holding up?”


Fandaniel didn't break her attempt to stare down the still-smouldering ruin that had once stood among the cliffs across the water. She mourned its loss wordlessly and expressionlessly, and gave thought to the events that had led up to it. She'd been thinking about it for hours, and she was still no closer to working out the how or the why - and as Nao began speaking, her reminiscence took a different path through her memory. She didn't recognise the voice, exactly, but she certainly recognised something. The feel of their vis, more than anything, but was drawing a blank when it came to a name, or a face, or anything other than the fact that they were a Precursor. Then, as soon as she spoke the name Nao, the recollection hit her like a falling boulder and brought her back to reality.

"You seem more comfortable now that you are free of their clutches." she replied, fondly remembering the fierce defiance with which she had acted during all of the House meetings she'd been part of. Fandaniel found them tedious in the extreme, and the presence of one who so palpably did not want to adhere to years of useless doctrine had intrigued her--given her something to consider that wasn't the tedium of talking and talking and talking.

"Good. You deserve better." she stated matter-of-factly, ignoring any of Nao's attempts to turn the conversation towards her, before turning slightly to get a good look at Nao's face. She cracked the beginning of a smile, her lips turning ever-so-slightly at the corners, before returning to her preternaturally dour and solemn look.

"Come. You should meet my daughter and her... associate. The Taeryns-" she nodded curtly to the west, where Nabriales and Sophia Taeryn could very vaguely be seen in the distance coordinating efforts among the authorities "-are also here. We will be discussing a plan of action soon."

And with that she walked off towards the location of Yvette and Crow, regardless of whether or not Nao was following.

There was a slow intake of breath, and then the chirp of a high pitched voice as Sophia called out orders to the team she had been put in charge of. Her bright blue eyes gleamed with purpose, her vis trailing out from her body in spirals as she created platforms for workers to set debris on. As detritus was piled on to the platforms, she moved them out of the way. In the air, to the upper left of her head there were three 9m x 9m vis constructs piled high with rubble.

Whilst she worked, she glanced in the direction of Nao and Fandaniel. From the distance, she simply addressed their presence with a curt nod. It would likely be evident to them that she was using this work to keep her mind off of other things.
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Hidden 9 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by 13org
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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm

"Apparently, being a bit more aggressive was the right choice..." Corinna thought to herself with a provocative smirk on her face as she saw Rich approaching the dim lit table she was sitting on with her drink.

While Rich's nervousness and hesitation surprised her a bit on the beginning, she quickly took a hold of the situation. It was highly improbable that he would give up on her so easily, especially due to the way he was looking at her while she talked. While there was a probability that her aggressive approach could maybe frighten him enough so he wouldn't follow her, it was a risk worth taking. Hesitating so much as he was, being aggressive was maybe the course of action with the most chances of making him follow her. Men were so simple to understand when in front of a beautiful woman...

As he approached her, Corinna looked at him with a provocative smirk, gently tapping on the spot right besides her on the couch she was sitting on.

"I wonder what made you change your mind... Even after I warned you that I am a cruel woman..." She said, waiting for him to sit down near her.

"Does danger.... excites you?" Corinna asked, looking to him with an intense stare, watching every reaction, every movement he made, every breath he took.

"Let's see how you taste... Come, don't be shy..." Corinna said with a mischievous smirk as she leaned on the couch, gently touching his cheek with her hand, slowly pulling him towards her.

@May
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Raijinslayer
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Damian

One Night in Hell Club

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm


Before Mercy would have the chance to make a second get away, Damian would wrap a firm hand around her shoulder, his eyes narrowed in irritation as he picked her off the floor, his grip growing a tad too tight as he somewhat struggle to regain his composure. The club was getting to him, stoking a relatively minor case of Vis depletion into feeling like something much worse than it was. Even now, as he glared down at the attempted sneak-in, he felt the slightest of tugs to sate his hunger right then and there. Luckily, he had more control than that and knocked it to the side, where it lay quiet, but never far from his mind. Instead, he took a deep breath, and tried talking to the girl again..

"Please don't run again. You're disturbing the other costumers. Now, I get why you might have run, but I'm not planning to through a young girl out into a snow storm in the dead of night, okay? Just come with me to my boss, and do it quietly and we can work out getting you a ride home." Damian gave her an almost pleading look, the glow of his eyes fading ever so slightly as he rested some control back over himself. However, as he thought some more on the situation, a thought occurred. "Wait, How did you even get in here anyway?" The many size and shapes of licentia aside, there was no way someone this young looking would be able to get through those doors without some really good fake I.D., something told Damian that this most likely wasn't the case given her reaction. The whole thing suddenly seemed a lot more odd.

"What were you doing before I nabbed you, Ms. . . ?"

@FallenReaper
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Plans Come Crashing Down


Location: One Night in Hell→ Exiting
Time: Evening- Opening



Mercy


The lights overhead continued to spin across the hazy darkness, drowning the patrons in the intoxicating scene. Mercy stood, for a split second, shocked at Damian’s reaction to her stomp. She didn’t expect it to work. In most her years on the wrong side of the tracks, her rash plans went sour and had serious repercussions. Most any Polly ever felt was pissed rather than pain. As Damian recovered, her mind snapped back to getting the hell out of here. She didn’t have much time until her package went. When that happened, the opening night would end with a huge bang. Feeling the pressure rise in her chest and anxiety build, she bolted for the wall furthest from the bouncer.

She was stopped in her tracks.

Her shadow grew tendrils and gripped her ankle, tugging them into the floor harder than she expected. Her legs collapsed underneath her. As she hit the floor, her breath was knocked from her lungs. Pain erupted across her side as she curled slightly into a ball. Hissing and cursing a few choice words no child should’ve known, Mercy tried to roll back over.

It was time to leave NOW.

Just when she began to recover, her shoulder was gripped and she was jerked upright. Mercy yelped in frustration. When her feet found solid ground, she turned on heel then tried to pry Damian’s grip off her. Muttering another curse under her breath, she didn’t care if her actions made things worse. Nothing would matter when the package went off. Fear to rolled off her in waves, realizing she was trapped now. Like a rat.

“Look, he’ll kill me if I tell you. I have to get out of here. Please, please just fucking let me go!” By this time, her voice had begun to edge into loud hysteria.

Nikki


“A raspberry martini, please!” hollered a gruff, male voice.

“Coming right up, sir,” Nikki answered with a fake smile.

The answering bartender was a white woman in her twenties, with a piercing on her lower lip and eyebrow. Over the months that followed her experiences, she had altered her hair style which still reflected her quick, independent style. The sides were trimmed close to the scalpel with the upper portion waved over to the right side. She was dressed in the traditionally expected trousers, dress shirt, and red tie, despite her being female. It was hard to stomach wearing skirts anymore so Masha gave her a free pass on it. A gesture the woman appreciated greatly.

She reached for the alcohol, careful to top the tin up. With a few fancy jerks, she rattled the contents around, mixing them properly. Finally she tilted the top into a single glass. She filled it to the very top in one smooth gesture then she added a small lemon garnish. She slid it right over to him without spilling so much as a single drop.

Appreciative, likely both of her curves and efficiency, the man tipped the glass in her direction. Then he downing it in one gulp.

That didn’t surprise the young bartender, but she expected it would come up later. They usually tended to fill the bathrooms with all sort of filthy. This made it a hassle on busy nights. In fact, many of One Night in Hell’s employees shamelessly tried to clock early in order avoid cleaning it. It was disgusting.

Placing the thoughts aside, her eyes caught Masha’s figure shift toward the lounge area. The more quiet atmosphere side of One Night in Hell causing her to spot the wink and promptly blush like she never realized she was able to. It went to show she was making progress into what was normal. She had been considering asking Nabriales for help, but she hadn’t wanted to pay whatever price he was slinging.

She spotted the wave of a young lady’s arm, getting the bartender’s attention promptly. Nikki turned and slid closer, signaling for the other bartenders to get the other side. When her figure slid across the counter’s surface, she gave a pretty smile toward the human and the prae. The gem on his forehead and markings on his skin were a bit of a dead give away.

"I'll take that compliment, though I warn you I'm even more interesting then I look. A martini with a twist will do for me; and what does the damsel in distress desire?" The male said when asking his companion.

Already, Niki was repeating the process she perfected by now.

"Your Damsel would also enjoy a martini," his female companion said, nodding at Nikki then turning to smile back at her date.

It was difficult for Nikki not to roll her eyes. Even more so not to gag at the flirting atmosphere between the two, though she could understand why. Prae were pretty to look at, had power in the city, and flirtatious. Who wouldn’t want to try to tap that? The method the woman was using, however, made Nikki inwardly cringe. The Prae’s date come off like she was trying too hard to be flirty. Nikki was smart enough to keep her mouth shut about it as she made the second martini. Then she slid them both over, ensuring the right customers took them. She took the money off the table before depositing it into the cash register.

By the time Amon gestured for her again, Nikki had served three others and placed the dirty glasses into the trolley for the kitchens. Casually she walked over to the young male Prae again. She leaned against the table with her arms folded up underneath for comfort, politely about to address him. Nikki became distracted when Rich tapped her on the shoulder. It was a signal he was going after a piece of tail causing her eyes to roll in frustration.

“Rich, I’m not protecting your ass if Masha finds out.” Nikki snapped quietly at his retreating back, then turned to Amon.

“So, what else can I get you? Drinks are currently half off by the way,” her voice returned to its polite, but cheerful tone.

Mercy’s scene could be heard in the background as Nikki fought the urge not to yell at Damian to do his job. The irritation was clear if the guy knew how to look beyond the mask. Why Masha hired that Licenti was beyond Nikki’s understanding, but she had hoped he could do his job a little quieter. Thankfully Lily’s music kept the good mood going while the generators appeared to be holding strong. She relaxed when she spotted that most the patrons were unfazed by the scene and fell back into their groove. After recent events, everyone needed something to lose themselves in and forget the world outside.

Killian & Emma & Masha


Killian had grown a few, subtle shades of red under his dark skin. The conversation kept pulling him more and more out of his comfort zone. Now it took all his energy not to bolt out of here. Mostly because he didn’t want to disappoint Emma. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he was pleasantly surprised to see her. It warmed his heart since it showed her devotion to their relationship. He had dated several girls, usually greed whores to wild clubbers, and none of them ever did something like for him.

His arm wrapped around Emma’s shoulder and he held her close. He let himself be distracted until he heard someone cry out in frustration. Instinctively, his eyes shifted to the transparent glass doors and watched the pipsqueak Damian was dealing with trying to escape. An unsettling sensation washed over him then. Something old and familiar caused him to look at the girls. His expression was apologetic as he spoke, “I got to go help Damian. He is having an issue with some kid that got past the bouncers and she’s not cooperating.”

He kissed Emma on the forehead, feeling it was right, then rose to his feet.

Upon seeing Damian handle the girl, his eyes shifted to where he had spotted coming from the bathroom. His gut stirred again drawing him to walk closer.

“What’s going on?” Killian asked, ready to assist Damian.

Afua & Lily


Lily continued to sing. Her vis flowed with her vocal vibrations, filling the room and influencing the crowd. It didn’t take much to keep them happy when the world felt like it was crumbling around them. Her bright eyes closed to focus on the words. Each beat followed the electrical rhythm like it knew its soul. Being a creature whose anima thrived in music in order to lure her prey in, it wasn’t a surprise how much she missed this. Now her spirit rose up to do it again. Once more, she realized she needed another break. It was painful to see her unable to keep singing for long periods like she use to, but small breaks were better than going hoarse in the middle of a song.

Her figure turned around to face the DJ. She pointed to her throat, indicating it needed rest, then attached the mic to the stand. The guy nodded then changed the beat to something more instrumental. Still high in energy and enough to get a few heart pounding.

Carefully, she stepped down to the cooler. She pried the lid open then snatched a water bottle, twisting the lid open. She savored the chill running down her throat as she sipped it. Her eyes snapped to the side when she spotted Afua’s approach. One of Darius’ higher ranking members. Her face tightened into concern, wondering why the necromancer was here before it finally dawned on her. Masha. He would’ve sent someone to check on her, ensuring things continued to go well. Lily was a little disappointed he didn’t show up in person.

“I’m surprised our mutual friend didn’t show up,” Lily commented offhandedly.

She already popped the lid back onto the water bottle while waiting for Afua to speak.

“I tried, but no dice. Honestly he’s not been himself lately,” Afua admitted, though she was vague on the details.

This caused Lily’s eyes to narrow in suspicion. A lot had happened this morning, but Afua’s tone indicated it wasn’t just because of recent events. Before she could think farther on the matter, Mercy’s loud shout caught both women’s attention. Their heads snapped into the conflict’s direction. Damian and a young girl, underaged, were locked in a heated conversation. Lily was the first to frown.

“I was wondering when Damian would notice and go after her.”

“You know her?”

“No, I just spotted her from the stage a while back. I found it odd none of the bouncers escorted her out until now. I doubt Masha is going to be happy with him for being so slow.”

“Not much I can do to help about it. Darius’ orders. How well her bouncers handle things, it doesn’t reflect on me,” Afua said as she rubbed her hand across her nape of her neck. Pushing aside her dreads while she added, “I need to see Masha. Know where she might be?”

Lily took a moment to recall.

“Yeah, she’s in the VIP section. Saw her go there with another girl and Killian, through it looks like Killian’s decided to finally help Damian,” Lily answered.

“About damn time. Honestly, Damian needs to learn to be tougher or he might not be going to survive in any line of work. Thanks Lily and I owe you a drink.”

Afua then turned toward the VIP section in the club.
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by May
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May Just Damn Cute

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Masha ☾ & ❀Emma❀


Arc 2 Day 2
{ ONIH | About 8 pm }


Emma couldn’t help the laugh that came at his embarrassment to see her with his boss, but she didn’t say anything more about it as he came in to give her a little hug. She slipped her own arm around his back and waist, pulling him a little closer for a moment before his attention was drawn away. “Go, you’ve got work to do, don’t let me keep you.”

At the kiss to her forehead she smiled, waving him off. “I’ll see you after,” she called as he walked away to go and help his fellow coworker with the little problem that they were having just then.

“Suppose you have to go too?” she said looking to Masha who sighed and rolled her eyes some.

“Yeah, I probably should get back to actually working and not just chatting,” she sighed again, finishing her drink and standing up as well. “It was nice seeing you again. Text me and maybe we can hang out some when this opening is over.”

Emma nodded and smiled. “Sure thing, Masha.”

Masha waved slightly and made her way back towards the bar, watching the scene on going with Damien and Killian as she went. What was that kid doing in here? What could she have been up to? As the thoughts ran through her head, theories and ideas and what ifs came flooding through and she had to fight down growing panic that this could be very bad.

“Just keep calm, Masha,” she murmured to herself and shifted her direction slightly, though she mostly stopped walking to watch. She needed to know that Killian and Damian could handle this sort of thing on their own without her intervening any. Damian was going to have to be a big boy sooner or later. Or a bit Nightwalker. Either way.

{} {} {}


@13org

Rich Axford

Rich looked at her as she patted the bench, taking a deep breath before he sat himself down. He needed to silence that small voice in the back of his head that kept saying that this wasn’t a good idea. And that he should be turning around and heading back to the bar to do his job. Before Masha noticed that he wasn’t there and fired his ass. Maybe literally, he couldn’t put it past her to not do that.

“Maybe it does,” he said in answer to her question about danger exciting him, shrugging his shoulders and trying to look more confident in this decision that he’d made.

Which was a whole lot easier when she was leaning in close and putting her hands on his face. He found himself being pulled even closer to her by just her force of will it seemed. Because there was no physical pulling happening, but he was sliding along the bench closer to her anyways, his much longer leg pressing up against hers.

Part of his attention was being tugged away by the commontion that was going on, but not enough of it to pull him away from her fully though. “Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think I am…”
Hidden 9 mos ago 8 mos ago Post by 13org
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One Night in Hell Club, Bar area.

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 8pm

If Rich got closer to her, he could almost feel her eyes wandering through his body, licking her lips as the very tip of her fangs reflected the dim light from the bar area. It was undeniable that she was excited, but the reason for her being like that might not be the same for Rich. As he slid along the bench towards her, Corinna simply continued gently touching his cheek, her eyes fixed on his, staring at him with such intensity that it was hard for him to break eye contact, while at the same time, slowly changing her position on the bench as to press him against the corner.

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think I am…” Corinna heard him saying, making a mischievous smile appear on her face.

"Don't worry... Even if you were, it wouldn't last for long... I will make sure to get rid of every drop of innocence when I'm done with you." she said, with a mischievous smile, putting his back against the corner of the bench, near the wall and pressing him against the cushioned bench, almost standing on top of him.

Running her sharp fingers along his neck, she put just a bit of pressure, enough to make a superficial cut, smiling as a thin crimson line appeared on his neck.
Putting her other hand on his throat, with a firm grasp, she kissed him intensely, biting his lower lip with her fangs, just a tiny prick, injecting only a small drop of tranquilizing venom.

"Don't worry... You will still feel everything... I wouldn't be so cruel to deprive you of the pleasure, it's just enough so you won't scream... too loud... It wouldn't be as satisfying for me if I wasn't able to see your reactions, so don't hold back... Show me, I want to feel your pain, I want to feel your pleasure... I want to see your terrified expression as you fear for your life, I want to see your moans of pleasure, I want to hear you crying for me, I want to hear you begging for me!" Corinna said, almost whispering on his ear with a bit of blood on the corner of her mouth as she lowered her head and slowly licked the cut on his neck.

That taste... The sweet taste of fresh blood and vis... She had longed for that for so long... So long... It was hard to control herself now that she tasted it. Even if they were in the darkest corner of the bar area, sitting on a couch near the corner of the room, she knew she couldn't go all out... But it was hard to control herself...

As she raised her head again, looking at rich, her cheeks were red, her eyes, her expression, filled with an almost unsatisfying, almost... obsessive... lust. Arousing, maybe, but it was definitely scary. The worst part was that she now was completely on top of Rich. Even with her elegant and beautiful body, her firm grasp and her strong legs pinning him left no doubts that it would be hard to escape, and as Rich felt the drop of venom slowly making effect, the already small hope he could have was slowly, but surely fading away.

"I won't kill you... So don't break on me... Not yet... I'm still not... satisfied... I still have so much to do... You are mine, Rich... Only... mine... So don't break!" Corinna said, breathing heavily as she kissed him again, still with one hand on his throat with a firm grasp, almost enough to make him gasp as she kissed him, running her sharp fingers through his chest, cutting his skin and the collar of his shirt.

The smell of blood seemed to excite her even more, as the second she cut his chest, she started to kiss him even more intensely, biting his tongue at the same time, savoring his blood and vis. He could feel her skin, her surprisingly strong legs pinning him, his excited breath... Pleasure, pain, terror... What would he show her first?
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Raijinslayer
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Raijinslayer .

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Damian

One Night in Hell Club

Day 1 (Arc 2): Around 7pm


Fear. Genuine fear, the scent of it thick and cloying, rippled off of the girl's Vis in waves and further affected Damain's mind. His grip would tighten momentarily as he struggled to get a handle on himself, all too aware of the people taking notice of the girl's hysterics. He felt more than heard Killian's approach, his senses becoming heightened as the latent predatory instinct started to come to the fore. Luckily, before anything occurred, one of the party goers walked up to Damian from behind, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, can you hurry up and take that brat out of here. I came here to fuckin' relax, not listen to a kid scream their damn-GAH!" The man's complaint would be cut off with a shout of his own as Damian intercepted the hand with a too-tight grip, his glowing eyes leveled at the customer as he spoke.

"Sir, I apologize for the disturbance, but I can't fix the problem if you don't let me do my job. Now please, enjoy your the rest of your evening." The words were polite, but the tone that spoke them was likely fiercer than any Damian had ever spoken before, with a hint of a growl present behind every one. The man, visibly paled as he realized what he might be talking to, was quick to back off after that. Taking a breath, Damian then turned to Mercy, trying his best to block out the feel of her fear-drenched vis as he got down on his knees so he was more at her level. Unfortunately, the proximity messed with his head even more, but he forced it down, looking her in the eyes as he tried to get out some hopefully calming words. "L-look at me, okay. No one is going to kill you, and no one is going anywhere. I don't know who this guy is, but I can tell you're scared. Really scared, and it isn't just because of him. Tell me what's happening here, and I promise me and my boss will keep you safe. Me and my partner here swear on it."

Damian cast a glance to Killian, almost pleading for him to agree. He didn't know if he was handling this as well as he could, but if him and Killian took a united front, it might be enough to convince the kid to fess up. At least, Damian hoped it would. If he could focus, he would've projected his aura to try and help calm her down, but with his mind as frazzled as it currently was, he knew that would likely make things even worse, if he could manage to bring it out at all. Between the club-goers that surrounded him, their enjoyment slowly turning to irritation at the kid's thrashing, and the kid's own sense of fear, he was finding it difficult to really focus on anything besides the gnawing feeling that he felt churning inside him.

@Fallenreaper
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