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Apologies for my recent absence. I've been allowing myself to get swamped in things that I need to do... I'm trying to catch up now though, so I'm aiming to post either tomorrow or on the weekend. I'd do it tonight, but I don't trust myself to write well when I'm tired...
Indeed I did~
Sorry I took so long.
Arcturus watched in fascinated horror while the beast willfully tore its own hand open to free itself. Flesh ripping apart against his weapon, only for the wound to heal almost as soon as it opened. How was one to kill something with such an ability? Worse still was the chilling sound that reached his ears shortly afterwards. The ringing of a small bell that chased away the tiny creatures, as if the bell heralded something that terrified even them.

Were they truly real after all? The bell certainly seemed to be, as it seemed he wasn't the only one to hear it. Arcturus glanced briefly at the darker skinned man, concern possessing his expression. That sound made him feel cornered in a way even the beast couldn't. What did the bell mean? Had the enemy called for reinforcements? All of a sudden he no longer felt confident in their ability to hold that door against whoever, or whatever, they were facing.

Soon enough the beast tore itself free of his spear, retreating through the hole it had made. Before Arcturus could even think about his next course of action he found himself staring at the barrel of a rifle. Adrenaline fueled reflex took control of his body, and he dove out of the way mere moments before the thundering discharge of the weapon reached his ears. Leaving the spear behind and leading into a roll.

That roll brought him into a kneel, whereupon he glared back at the muzzle poking through the hole in the door. It frustrated him that their only defensive structure had merely given the enemy cover to fire through. All the more so as the repeating chime of the bell sent a chill running down his spine. He wanted to attack.

Instead, however, he sprung back to his feet and rushed over to his own sword. Sprinting across the rifle's field of fire to snatch the saber before halting right next to the darker skinned man. "We can't hold here forever." He insisted in a firm whisper, his foreign accent lacing every word as he finally spoke.
I have posted my answer. Sorry I went dark, I suffered a catastrophic loss of personal organization and wound up procrastinating literally everything.
Arcturus made a point of using the few seconds he had attempting to read the three men he would likely be fighting with. They were all shorter than him, and all gave off very different impressions.

One man looked relatively ordinary compared to the other two. He seemed fit enough, however he had an air about him that reminded Arcturus of a recruit. The look of a man who had never killed before, never fought for his life, but who was faced with a situation where he may need to.

Another of the three men looked odd, for lack of a better word. As if there were something distinctly off about the way he looked. Perhaps it was the lean in his posture or the disproportionate length of his arms. Regardless, the compact man looked quite strong at a glance.

The third man had darker skin and charred clothes, the latter of which was an immediate indication of some kind of experience. A presumption only confirmed by the cautious look in the sharp faced man's eyes. If that wasn't the look of a veteran, it was at the very least the look of someone accustomed to danger.

Glances were the only thing Arcturus had time for, as the owner of the hoarse, unfamiliar voice seemed to grow impatient with them. All the while referring to them as hunters. He wondered briefly what it meant. Arcturus had gone deer hunting before, he'd been brought up as a noble after all, but he didn't consider himself a hunter by profession. Save for any poetic metaphor that more romantic minds might have attributed to him on the battlefield.

The question would have to wait, however, as a ferocious snarl heralded something heavy being rammed against the door. It was time to fight. That vicious, beastly sound had served to stoke his adrenaline, causing both the young man's heart and mind to race ever faster. It was a feeling Arcturus was all too familiar with, however something else accompanied it this time. Something similar to the blood lust of battle, but altogether different. More like a craving.

The door shuddered again as it suffered another impact.

Yet the sensation did not disturb him, feeling as much a part of him as all the other emotions racing through him. So he allowed it to bolster his confidence even while he steadied his breath and steeled his focus. Arcturus gripped his spear and fixed his icy blue gaze on the door. Waiting. Anticipating.

His muscles tensed as he the door was struck again, followed by something dragging along the wooden surface. The sound of wood being carved away struck Arcturus as oddly pleasant in spite of the situation. However that thought was quickly chased away as the door finally gave in, a nightmarish claw bursting through the tortured wood.

Even though he'd been prepared for the door to be breached, the sight of it still gave him pause, a brief flash of terror and surprise interrupting his focus. The sight of the darker skinned man taking action brought his mind back to the present, however. Only a moment was lost marveling at the other man's strength before he took action. Arcturus swiftly stepped forward, shifting his grip on his spear to provide more leverage, and attempted to forcibly drive his spear down into the creature's hand.

Arcturus' feet dug into the floor as he swung, his legs driving power into his core, then that driving yet more power into his arms. He knew very well how to generate lethal force in an attack. Yet at the same time he was surprised at his own movement, a muscle memory he didn't know he had guiding the weapon down towards his target. Yet there was no time to think on it.

Hesitation had no place in combat.
Not much has happened since I last posted, so I haven't the need to post again at the moment.
Arcturus awoke to the silver light of The Moon shining through his window. He was alive! His body flooded with a sense of joyous relief as he came to his senses, shaking off the groggy veil of sleep. The treatment, the blood, had worked!

Or had it?

As he scanned the dark room around him, his eyes beginning to focus, he felt his heart sink with a deep disappointment. The sight he was met with was nothing more than his very own room. The familiar wooden walls and flowered wallpaper he had known since he was a child. Had it all been a dream? Traveling to Yharnam, meeting that minister. It was difficult to believe. Yet there was the proof before him, the Moon staring down through his window as if to reprimand him for being so naive.

Of course it hadn't been real. Such rumors of panacea could never hold weight. Had he truly traveled to that city he most certainly would have died there. Perhaps, more likely, he might have even died along the way. Dejected, Arcturus let his eyes fall from the window, his attention shifting to the young woman sitting across from his bed.

Violet.

His sister looked worse than ever, her once bright and pretty visage marred by dark circles. The signs of stress showing clear on her face. She looked to have fallen asleep there, slumped over onto her arm. The fool girl. It seemed the only precaution she had taken against contracting his ailment was the scarce few feet of distance between them. Hardly enough, he thought, even if he appreciated the gesture.

Suddenly a noise disturbed his quiet thoughts, a noise that didn't come from Violet. From behind him, Arcturus heard the faint sound of knocking, like someone was banging on the front door. He faintly heard demands for entry from a hoarse, labored voice. The speaker's words colored by a thick foreign accent. Lacking the strength to lift himself from his bed, he felt a cold terror run down his spine, looking hurriedly to the door of his room before shifting his focus back to where Violet slept. If he could only summon the voice to wake her, to warn her of what was coming.

Arcturus drew in a sharp breath, only to freeze as his gaze fell upon a bone chilling sight. An open window. Curtains billowing in the oddly stuffy smelling breeze. A beast, more robust and fearsome than even the one which had given him his scar, stood hunched over the chair where his sister sat. It cast a dark shadow over her, concealing her form from sight. However its jagged maw dripped with a thick scarlet liquid...

****

The young man awoke again to a dark room, the chill of a cold sweat aiding his groggy mind as he took a few moments to come to terms with reality. He was alive. The treatment, the blood, really had worked! Relief flooded through his body, though he was denied the opportunity to revel in it.

Hearing that hoarse, foreign voice again, Arcturus slowly pushed himself up into an upright position. His icy blue eyes sweeping cautiously over his surroundings. There were already a few other people up and about in the massive room. Up, about, and armed. It seemed he was not the only one who perceived the strange voice as a threat.

It wasn't until he'd pushed himself up and began studying the room around him that he noticed those things. Small, glowing, almost skeletal looking creatures. The sight of them caused him to recoil, swiftly backing up against his bedpost and bracing to defend himself. However as his heart rate slowed and his thoughts caught up to what he was seeing, he gradually realized that they were anything but hostile. Not that it made their ghastly appearance any less unsettling. Was he hallucinating the things? Truly, he needed to read fine print more closely next time he signed a critical medical contract.

Now Arcturus knew very little about the situation he had woken up to, and less about the men he shared it with. What he did know, however, was that he had to make a decision on what to do. He had to make a decision and he had to make it quickly. So that's exactly what he did. Once he'd identified where the others got their weapons, his piercing gaze watching one of them return to the door with a spear, he gently pushed himself out of his cot.

With brief glances towards the other three men he wordlessly strode across the room, his posture confident, and set his eyes upon the barrels of weapons. Arcturus was appreciative of the supply, no doubt, but it was an odd juxtaposition against the clinical room he stood in. Who in their right mind stored weapons of such quantity in a medical ward? Not that he could complain, as he picked out both a saber and a spear before heading back towards the unnervingly fortified door. Again, what kind of doctors would barricade their patients in like that?

Stopping in front of the door and behind the other three men, Arcturus set his new saber down against the nearest cot before glancing down at the spear in his hands. Not a weapon he was familiar with, but it felt oddly comfortable in his grip. Perhaps the muscle memory of bayonet drills also aided in the handling of spears? Regardless he was satisfied with his own equipment, at least as satisfied as he could be given the selection, and so turned his piercing gaze to the other three. All men whom he'd had yet to address. He made a point of silently making eye contact with each of them in turn before leveling the point of his spear towards the door.
Excellent. So I'm clear for Arcturus to awaken?

I just like the name, personally. It's been some time since I've played Star Craft... Perhaps I ought to fix that someday.
I uh... I think I got a little carried away with the backstory.

Pardon my intrusion, but might this rp be accepting new applicants? I'm always hungering for Bloodborne roleplay, and it seems as if I've found a gem in this one.
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