MaeB

New Returning Player

Welcome back, all!

Happy RPing :)

Sounds like we’re all in the same boat… I had a big old hiatus and returned about a month or so ago!

I’m on the hunt for a juicy new RP so if you’re at all interested, drop me a PM ^^

Bloodbound & Broken

It shouldn’t surprise Renaissance Le Sang, after so many years of existence, that humans possessed so much humanity. Yet, watching Lyselle treat the stubborn fledgling with such humane kindness, reminded Ren that she too possessed that same innocence. She forgot, often, that she was once human. There was a life before this one. A life where she bled, her belly would rumble when she was hungry, she’d dream and take naps and squint at sunlight. That life seemed so far away from Ren now… Almost as if that were a separate person entirely. She supposed, in reality, it was a different person. A young woman in the 1500s, with societal challenges in a world full of cruelty and war and poor health. Her human life was like a TV series she’d watched once upon a time; She could vaguely recall the characters, the setting, the general plot line… But she’d have to watch it again to gain a sense of familiarity.

And as she watched her beloved Huntress, that gentleness aglow in her delicate features, a pang of something similar to envy struck at the chords of Ren’s still heart. Despite knowing that the essence of her spirit lived on in this undead body, that beautiful humanity her bonded Huntress so easily accessed was a million miles away for Renaissance. Now? She knew too much to be kind without question. She’d seen too much to be naive. Innocence was a fickle thing, torn away from her slowly after years and years of bloodlust and loneliness.

Perhaps being close to Lyselle would reignite her humanity? They still knew so little about the extent of this connection they’d had thrust upon them. The bond was so powerful and ran so deep that perhaps, as well as channelling feelings and thoughts and God knows what else, it could feed her the ghosts of her humanity?

Their hands interlocked like perfect puzzle pieces. Fingers lacing together, Ren wished she could forge them that way so that they remained locked forever. The warmth of Lyselle’s human skin against her cool flesh made her sigh gently, a sigh of bliss and relief. The bond sung in response.

Wysteria granted Lyselle a brief nod, her eyes flickering with the echoes of gratitude, and she turned her back. Limping slightly as she disappeared into the thick brush of the forest, Ren watched her leave and dismissed her inner questions as to where she was going. She would feed, she would recharge, she would re-enter the world a touch more humble than before. Werewolf attacks could do that to a vampire. A reminder that though eternal, they were not invincible. Death could creep up on them, unbiased and merciless in its approach. Instead of sparing her fledgling another thought, she focused her attention on Lyselle, squeezing her hand gently in glee.

With nothing for company save for the trees and the rising sun, the ancient vampire revelled in the peace she felt in that moment. A gentle morning breeze to tickle the forest leaves, the sound of the forest awakening. It all looked far prettier in the morning light.

Taking slow but purposeful steps, Renaissance lead Lyselle through the thicket. Stepping over exposed roots, dodging fallen branches, crunching leaves beneath their feet, they steadily made their way out of the woods. Before it disappeared from view, Ren turned her head to look at the two werewolf corpses they were leaving behind. Abandoned in the clearing, left to rot and eventually feet the forest floor, the werewolves seemed smaller in this light. Just two lupine creatures, at peace in death, forever sleeping soundly in the woodland.

“You fought well,” Ren said, breaking the soft silence that had fallen between them. ”You wield with confidence, accuracy… The Vigil has taught you well.” The Ancient Vampire paused for a breath, turning her head to allow her gaze to fall on her human. Those beautiful hazel eyes facing out at the world, taking in the surroundings and watching the sunlight grow stronger by the minute.
”I do wonder what this bond has planned for us, Lyselle” the ancient mused out loud, watching her Huntress as they took synchronised step after synchronised step. “It’s embryonic in lifespan, I know, but it’s already so powerful. It almost has an entire mind of its own, its own agenda and wishes. I feel your emotions through it; Both the ones you send intentionally and unintentionally-“ As if aware it were being discussed, the bond hummed in response. Ren gave Lyselle a small smile and gently stroked her thumb over the Humans hand. In slow strokes, she traced tiny repetitive patters in the Human’s skin.
“I think, when we return home, we should see if I’ve got any scripture about a bond like this… We can’t be the first and only ones, I’m sure.”

Bloodbound & Broken

Wysteria watched from the sidelines in awe of the teamwork from the most unlikely duo she’d ever come across. The human Huntress and the Ancient Vampire, her sire. A combination for the History books, surely?

The fledgling stumbled to her feet and slowly approached her saviours. She blinked away the sweat and blood that dripped down her bruised face, the effects of her Sire’s magic still dulling her emotions.

”Sire…” she croaked, not sure exactly how she could thank them both. Her pride, wounded. Her ego, battered. Wysteria swallowed the lump wedged in her throat and coughed awkwardly, her head bowing in respect. “Huntress…” she added meekly, not making eye contact with either of them.

How could she possibly even begin to thank them? It went against every grain within her to bow down to a human. Yet, something told her if the appropriate respects were left unpaid, she’d wish the werewolves had finished her off.

Speaking of the ugly dogs, their giant furry corpses lay splayed out in the forest clearing. The battle had been over before it had a chance to begin, the Human and the Maker working to ensure those wolves didn’t get an opportunity to sink their claws in. They were far from meagre match, too. She’d barely been able to flee the pair of them. Those werewolves were powerful solo, let alone together. And the Human/Vampire duo had handled them like it was their hundredth fight side by side. They were quick and efficient with their kills, playing to their respective strengths. All the while, ensuring Wysteria was also untouched.

________________________________

Renaissance had squeezed her thighs tighter around the werewolf as he’d began to rise. The bond was charged with a mixture of concern and reassurance. Her Huntress would be upon him, imminently. So all she had to do was leave both the dagger and talon wedged firmly in either sides of this thick, furry neck and wait.

Lyselle’s blades glinted in the moonlight, dripping red with the other werewolf’s blood. She sprinted across the clearing and for a moment, despite the carnage surrounding them, Renaissance admired the powerful human approaching them. By beckoning her, Lyselle had come. She moved with a quick grace that would leave Ren spellbound if she weren’t riding a sizeable werewolf. A mass of powerful, controlled aggression and understated beauty; Lyselle sliced her bloodied blades along the length of the werewolf’s jugular. Instantly, blood spurted from the wound and it audibly hissed from the silver. A fan of blood sprayed across the clearing, spattering the fallen leaves, seeping into the dirt beneath them. Like abstract art, the blood pooled out, finding its way into gap between the wet leaves. Little pools of blood surrounded them.

Ren felt the werewolf begin to lose his footing. Any moment now, he’d fall like an amputated oak tree. Gurgling through the fountain of blood built up in his now severed throat, the wolf released a strained, strangled cry. The ancient vampire nodded, satisfied he would soon fall, and tore her weapons from where they’d been wedged into his jugular. As if she were swimming, the ancient vampire flipped from his back. Her cape billowed, hair rippled and she landed firmly on her feet.

As if in slow motion, their second victim teetered and fell to his death. The sight of the mass in front of them both was cause for a moment of thought. Ren acknowledged both bodies, lifeless and encircled by their own scarlet bodily fluid. She scrunched her nose disdainfully, hating the scent of the dog’s breathless bodies. The ancient turned her attention to her Huntress, eyeing the dripping weapons at her side.

“Your grace, are you all right?”

Worry pinched at the bond and Renaissance let it flow through her, expelling the concern with reassurance. She sent her own concerns of wellbeing in return, filling the bond with gratitude and congratulations. She took a few broad steps towards Lyselle and didn’t hold back her affection. Ignoring Wysteria’s presence, she outstretched her arms and fiercely pulled her into an embrace that said exactly how glad she was that Lyselle was unharmed.

Ren’s muscular arms snaked around Lyselle’s body, pulling her against her. She was aglow with pride of her Huntress. Their efficiency, the ease with which they’d eradicated two powerful werewolves. This was a feat they should be proud of. It would’ve been an impressive show for anyone that had the pleasure of watching…

Wysteria had made her presence known. She’d cleared her throat awkwardly but kept her gaze fixated at their feet. Renaissance was glad the fledgling hadn’t forgotten her respect in all this chaos.

“I think the words you’re looking for, Wysteria, are thank you” Ren said firmly, coldly. She still had her arms wrapped tightly around Lyselle and she squeezed her quickly before releasing her. The embrace was far too short, affection far too short lived. But there’d be time for that, plenty.

Wysteria blushed, still keeping her eyes lowered. She was a far cry from the feisty, sharp-shooting fledgling Ren had turned all those years ago. Partially due to the blood magic, mostly to do with the humbling experience of coming nose to nose with death at the hands of werewolves. She whispered her thanks, her tone hushed but gracious.

Renaissance nodded in acknowledgement, lifting her chin defiantly. She jerked her head in Lyselle’s direction and arched an eyebrow to indicate the thanks were unfinished. The fledgling physically recoiled at submitting to a human. Ren watched everything in the stubborn, wounded young vampire resist. Her ego had a different post code at this point, abandoned at her sire’s command. She thanked Lyselle, biting out the gratitude like she was chewing on something unpleasant.

Renaissance tutted like a disapproving teacher scolding a child. She sighed.

“I don’t have the energy to force the appropriate thanks from you, Wysteria” the ancient vampire stated plainly. “And I won’t drag it from your tongue purely because Lys would disapprove. I’m sure she thinks you’ve been through quite enough this evening without me adding to your burdens-“
The light had shifted in the forest. Dusky sunlight began to filter between the branches, casting dappled light over the gory scene before them. It made Ren shoot her Huntress a pointed look, injecting her concern at daylight approaching down their bond. She smoothed her facial expression into a soft, sweet smile reserved explicitly for Lyselle.

“It’s time we made our way back home, Lys” she said, her gentle tone so polarised with the clipped scolding she gave Wysteria.
“It’s too light to fly. Shall we walk?” she coupled her suggestion with an extended hand, open and waiting for completion from her oh-so worthy partner.
“Wysteria, say goodbye to your Huntress saviour.”

Bloodbound & Broken

“Fucking body bag!”

Renaissance’s eyes narrowed in concentration as the werewolf made his move. The sound of his beloved fellow wolf taking a hit had momentarily distracted him, but not for long. Taking his chances, he leapt fourth, claws extended. Ren lowered her body out of the firing line and dove wide as if she were taking a plunge into a pool. Her movements were swift and nimble, utilising her vampiric speed to ensure she was out of the werewolf’s firing line. In strength, the two were fairly evenly matched. It was speed where Renaissance would find her advantage. There was no way a beast of that stature could compete with an ancient vampire’s agility.

After feigning and diving a quick right, her muscular arms outstretched to steady her landing, Ren used those arms to guide her into a graceful roll. Body flipping over just the once, folding out to finish in another crouched position, Ren wasted no time in carrying out her counter attack. Having successfully dodged the wolf’s rigid, hooked claws, the ancient vampire flicked her wrist that wielded her silver dagger. It glinted in the fast-fading moonlight, the encrusted jewels dancing with its vengeful appetite. The werewolf’s forceful, muscular body had arced over the top of her and now Ren would have to seize the small window of opportunity that had opened whilst the wolf’s back was turned.

After narrowly missing the werewolf’s airborne attack, he landed with a thump, tail between his hind legs. The roar that had erupted from his fang-filled jaws triggered a snarl to rip from Ren’s lips. Though she appeared human most of the time, right now she was unmistakably part beast. With her entirely black eyes, swirling like black holes in her angular face and the fangs hanging where her canines used to be, Ren was more comparable to these ferocious beasts than she cared to admit. The evil within her had been awoken and as the ancient vampire charged the furry creature with his back turned, she moved quickly and silently so as not to warn him of her approach.

Beginning her attack with a few quick steps, Renaissance bent her knees and pushed her form upward. Jumping into the air, as the werewolf had, she gripped the silver dagger in her left hand whilst her right harboured the spiked talon poised and ready. The vampire speed with which Ren moved would be difficult, if not impossible, for the werewolf to avoid. He would not be as lucky as her when it came to dodging attacks. If only he’d just moved that little bit quicker, he’d have been able to turn around to face his vampire opponent and the exposure of his back in battle would not have arisen.

The ancient soared through the air, a shooting star, landing firmly with a satisfying thud on the werewolf’s back. Ren’s legs gripped either side of the wolf’s spine as if she were taking a wild stallion. Then, to give her grip, she sunk her talon into the right hand side of the thick, beastly neck. Before he could register the pain of the vampire’s talon, Ren jabbed her dagger into the left hand side of his neck. Like creating handles for herself to ride the enraged, lupine creature, she leant her body forward to deepen the penetration of both her talon and blade. Hearing flesh give way, bones crunch and the sounds of another werewolf cry from behind her, Ren hissed whilst she mounted her beastly enemy. She twisted both wrists, hacking wider and deeper into the wounds she’d created.

“Lyselle!” Renaissance shouted, her voice dripping with an urgent authority “Whilst I have him, finish him!” She wasn’t sure how long she could remain seated on the werewolf’s back. Soon enough he’d recover from the pain of penetration in his neck, he’d see past the pain created by the silver in his jugular. Being mounted on the wolf’s back was not a position the ancient vampire wanted to be in for long. There were too many variables of opportunity for his counter attack, and by the rumble of agonised rage in his throat, he would be quick to avenge.

__________________________________

Violet’s bellow of pain shook the clearing. Leaves leapt from their branches in response to the bone-rattling roar. All she could see was blood. Blood everywhere. Her own. Spattered in the dirt, clouding over her vision. Blood and mud mixing beneath her clawed paws, white hot pain submerging her. She could barely breathe, barely take a breath in beyond the pained cries that fell from her jaws involuntarily.

The Huntress was so close to killing her, she felt her soul begin to peel away from her body. Would these really be her final moments? In the company of the despicable undead she loathed so much? And facing a Huntress with loyalties to evil?

As her legs gave out, Violet’s heavy torso crashing to the woodland floor, her vision fazed out of focus. Instead, she was no longer in the forest. The trees had disappeared, the smell of rotting flowers no longer peppering her wet nose. No, she was watching herself. Seeing herself as a young pup. She was back at the den Violet and Victor had grown up in. The sun beat down from way above them and beautiful green shrubbery surrounded their dirt-made den. Violet’s paws, still too big for her growing body, were padding playfully as she chased young Victor. They were chippering and chirping as the two played, taking it in turns to jump on top of one another and paw at eachother. Panting happily, tails wagging back and forth, the pup siblings joyfully wrestled in the sun.

Then the memory began to fade to black and the last thing Violet heard was the sounds of her own final howl at the moon.

Bloodbound & Broken

Wysteria watched helplessly from beneath the heavy, stinking werewolf that had her pinned to the ground by both shoulders. The fledgling tried to wriggle free, feeling those dreaded claws sink deeper into her skin. She let out a whimper, lacking the energy to cry out. Then, all of a sudden, the human Huntress moved quicker than she’d ever seen a human move. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she was upon the shewolf, weapons brandished proudly.

Wysteria watched wide-eyed as the Huntress, Lyselle, brought both blades down in an almighty slash. It must’ve been blessed silver because from beneath the wounded shewolf, she heard the singe of burning flesh and the stench of charred fur.

The beast let out a pained cry, the strange mixture of a lupine whine and a human wail… A haunting sound which would no doubt grab the attention of her fellow pack member.

Wysteria mustered as much strength as she could and seized the opportunity to shove the laden body off of her. She scrambled backwards, kicking up dirt with her feet as she pushed herself further out of the werewolf’s reach.

“Alright, human” Wysteria panted, jutting her chin at the other werewolf that still stood firmly in attack opposite her sire. “Now deal with that one!”

_________________________________

Violet’s vision went to black as she felt the human’s silver blades rake along her flesh. She felt it tear her open, the warmth of pooling blood spilling from her side. Then, the burning commenced. Like pouring salt water on a fresh wound, the silver scorched her abdomen.

Something like a cry for help ripped out of her slack jaw and she shook her head, trying to clear her blurred vision. She didn’t even have time to contemplate the betrayal she felt from the human’s one worded "Wrong."
Compelled by rage and vengeance, Violet clumsily fumbled to her feet, feeling her body strain under the burden of pain. She flicked her head to face her assailant and mindlessly charged, brandishing her claws, ready to tear the human open.

_________________________________

Renaissance heard the wolf cry but felt it more so. It struck down her spine like a bolt of lightning and she watched it register on the male wolf’s face. A flash of worry flickered in his violent eyes as he faced her once again, preparing for his next attack. The ancient vampire watched as he veered left, putting a little more space between them.

Ren was crouched, readied, her hand darted beneath her skirt to grab the hilt of her encrusted dagger. It sung with pleasure to be wielded, anticipating meeting flesh with a hungry imminence. Dagger in one hand, talon on the other, Renaissance felt her body set ablaze with sheer adrenaline and power. She submitted to it, let it seep into every molecule of her undead body. Her muscles pulsed but her breath was slow. Like a masterfully trained assassin, the ancient vampire took slow, careful steps to the right.

And so she and the unwounded werewolf circled one another like lions in the wild. Both of them daring the other with deadly stares to make the next move. Ren didn’t care; Attack or defence it made no difference to her. She felt confident in both positions. Whether it would be a swift lunge and uppercut with her wielded silver dagger, a twist into a slash across the maw with her talon or a defensive plunge of the blade in whatever body part was closest - Ren would succeed. The alternative simply wasn’t a possibility. She couldn’t remember the last time an enemy marked her cold, undead skin. Always prepared, always calculated, always preempting her enemies next move… Renaissance Le Sang was an artful, elegant fighter. She favoured swift, choreographed movements. Elaborate shows of skill, practiced over the span of her eternal life. She’d memorised combinations, mastering the use of a blade in harmonious and synchronised steps.

“Come,” Ren hissed, that serpentine tone to her voice warped into inhuman tones. “I’ll make this quick for you, dog. I can’t bear to hear a mutt whine for mercy.”

Bloodbound & Broken

Wysteria let her body hang limp in her sire’s grasp. Her head drooped, hair congealed with drying blood flopping in front of her bruised face. The fight, the spunk, the fire she usually had in her belly was - Gone. Along with her thirst, any extreme emotion had been snuffed out like candlelight beneath breath. Whatever magic her sire had bestowed upon her was a suppressant. But it worked like a master switch: She felt next to nothing anymore.
The fledglings eyes slid to rest on the Huntress. Something like a hint of resentment echoed in her chest as she took in her understated beauty, her golden brown eyes, the human pigmentation of her skin… ‘Lyselle…’ the name sounded familiar to her, made the blood in her veins sing with recognition. Who was this human? This lucky earthling, plain of blood, totally and utterly mortal… Why was she so special?
Her sire was merciless. She was larger than life. Majestic. Her bloodlust was in her drivers seat… So what had made her spare this human?
‘My love…’ The words echoed in Wysteria’s mind. Like the pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place, like a blurred picture coming into focus, Wysteria realised that this current in her veins was second-hand smoke. It was an indicator as to what her bloodline was feeling. Wysteria’s Mother had formed some kind of… Love? For this human?

As she hung from her Mothers hand, her hung eyes looked up from underneath the curtain of bloodied hair.

“M-Mother!” she croaked, just as a werewolf she recognised leapt from the thicket behind them.

________________________________

Violet; ever-obedient, ever-well behaved, followed her brother’s signal as he leapt out into the clearing where the vampires and Huntress were gathered. She watched him sail through the air, claws and jaws glistening in the moonlight, a bone-rattling raw erupting from his maw.

Violet followed suit, springing into the air and letting out a long, drawn-out howl. Her body landed on the ground with a thud, muscles rippling with the strain of her landing, and her breaths came hard and fast as her wolffish eyes took in the scene.

Victor had chosen the newcomer. Probably wise, Violet could sense her power. She was to target the already wounded vampire. Something was different about her this time, though. Her fight, her ferocity, had been diluted. Instead, the battered vampire seemed to have let go of that aggression she’d possessed when Violet & Victor had first attacked.
At this realisation, Violet barked a sneered laugh. She focused her attention on the fledgling, predatory senses lasering in on her. She had the young vampire in her sights, like a sniper shooter zooming in on their kill.

The werewolf braced, and pounced. Mimicking her brother’s attack, she soared through the air aiming straight for the defeated vampire who just watched her approach with a hint of apprehension in her eyes. The undead seemed to have accepted her fate and as she began her descent, totally on target, Violet could taste her dead flesh crumbling beneath her jaws already.

______________________________

"One behind you - one the opposite way."

Renaissance quickly relinquished her grip on Wysteria, immediately sensing the scream of danger behind her. Discarding her like a disinterested child with a toy, Ren hissed as panic jetted down the bond. She tried to quell it, to soothe the whine of danger filling their connection, but it was difficult to argue with the truth: They were headed into a fight to the death.
Whipping her head round to see for herself, the Ancient Vampire came face to face with the utter beast of a wolf man sailing through the air towards her.
Harmonising with the wolf’s roar, a blood-curdling shriek escaped Ren’s mouth. Not of fear, of warning. Haunting, the animalistic noise that resonated in the forest clearing was a frequency that would jar the werewolves. With hearing so heightened, the Vampiric screams were an affective deterrent. Ren knew this. So she parted her lips, fangs glinting, and screamed again. It was otherworldly, that sound. Like a car alarm mixed with a banshees cry. A sound undoubtedly painful for a creature that heard frequencies beyond human ears.

And like a well-choreographed dancer, Renaissance twirled so fast she felt herself become a blur as she jumped and flew backwards through the air. Time seemed to slow as she barrel rolled out of harms way; An elegant mess of cloak, hair and poised limbs, the ancient vampire narrowly dodged the werewolf’s pounce. But still, he’d come close enough to make her even more wary. Its lupine smell ignited her nasal cavity; wet dog and vampire blood. Landing in a crouch, Renaissance felt the cool earth beneath her palms as she flicked her head to mark her enemy. Both of them, gazes locked, knew this was the beginning of a tiresome fight. One that Ren refused to lose.

“Lyselle!” the ancient vampire’s call was shrill and laced with urgency. She sent warning down the bond, urging her to stay alert, to get ready to fight or defend or run or whatever she needed to do. Whatever was necessary, Ren expected her Huntress to act. Granted, the Vampire believed in her own abilities. But two werewolves and one wounded fledgling? There was more than just a margin for error. There were factors Ren couldn’t control… And that was what unsettled her.

“Human!” snarled the female werewolf, the one pinning Wysteria to the forest ground with all fours, her dripping, slobbering jaw inches from the fledglings face. “We can handle this! Either help us fight… Or be on your way!”
Ren didn’t take her eyes off of the male werewolf, the stronger of the two. She eyed the vulnerable flesh connecting the skull to that thick, pulsating neck. It was there that she’d aim for. Sever the tie, detach the head. That was the only way she’d put an end to this bloodthirsty beast. The ancient vampire braced herself for his next move. Aggressive creature wouldn’t be able to resist making another attack and this time, Renaissance would be ready.

Bloodbound & Broken

A change in energy, a ripple in the atmosphere. Like a magnetic current that pushes then pulls, Renaissance Le Sang’s receptors tingled with the warning that danger was approaching. The ancient vampire watched her Huntress instantly wield her weapons, on high alert. Ren looked to her, brows knitted together awaiting her words of warning. Her body instantly transformed into attack mode; Talon protruding from her index finger, pupils fully dilating which instantly improved her vision and her fangs showed themselves to anyone approaching. Vibrating like a coiled spring, Renaissance lowered to a half-crouch, her muscles straining with power as they readied to jump into action if required. Like a panther stalking prey, Ren’s form was arched into a prepared stance. Now, she blurred the lines between her human appearance and animalistic nature. Her aura thrummed with power and a deep, thunderous growl vibrated in her throat.

Hunters were experts in hyper-awareness. Different to Vampires capabilities, their nervous system was specifically attuned to supernatural presence. It served them well when hunting, of course. Ren had no doubt Lyselle’s sensory skills would serve them well in this situation.

"Werewolves," the Huntress said gravely but matter of factly. "Two of them... trying to flank us." The astuteness of Lyselle’s observations made Ren swell with pride. She was thankful for the Huntresses abilities, now more than ever. How useful it was to not only have her foresight as to when danger was approaching, but also the specifics of what that danger entailed. Still, as impressive as it was, Lyselle’s warning not only brought comfort in preparation but also a deeper concern for the fledglings well being. Two werewolves would be nearly impossible for a single, young vampire to fight off. Ren realised that the Huntress/Vampire duo may be stumbling across a fledgling wounded beyond repair. Which also meant, consequently, that this fledgling would be beyond desperate for blood.

The damp, woodland air that filled Renaissance’s lungs was laced with undertones. The top notes remained expected; Wet leaves, disturbed dirt, damp wood… But there were two other scents that Ren could decipher. One of them, comparable to rotting flowers, had become increasingly prominent. She let out a serpentine hiss of warning, turning towards Lyselle to shoot her a glance that would put her quickly on the defence.

_______________________________

In a last bid attempt, using the remainder of her energy, Wysteria launched her body out of the thicket. She threw her mangled form at the armed human, snaking her bloodied arms around her neck and locking her weary legs around the humans waist. Mounting her, but her movements slow thanks to those hounds, Wysteria let out a frenzied cry. Her sire had arrived, ready to free her from her impending doom. And she’d brought food! A supply to restore her strength, enough to fight those bloodthirsty werewolves. Maybe her Maker wasn’t as evil as she’d thought for all these years.

Just as Wysteria was about to plunge her fangs into the supple, tempting jugular it felt like mere milliseconds before an almighty force pried her from the humans back. She was ripped away like a ragdoll with just a single arm, minimal effort required to peel her from the humans back. Wysteria let out a desperate cry, dismayed that her food was being withheld from her. Like a stray street cat being picked up by its scruff, Wysteria writhed and kicked and screamed whilst her sire remained still as a stone cold statue. She watched her with those black, bottomless eyes that were so familiar, her luscious lips pulled into a disapproving sneer.

”Wysteria you will not, I repeat NOT, touch a single hair on that humans head,” her sire’s voice was more comparable with a snake-like hiss. It dripped with the repulsion of an uncontrolled fledgling, clearly disgusted by her inability to control the thirst that burnt through her every fibre.

“I’m going to very quickly disable you from doing so, for now, until I can trust you to control your urges…” the almighty Ancient used her seasoned talon to prick her own finger, tracing a line of her blood across Wysteria’s shaking head. A thin smear of blood spanned her forehead and her Mother hastily recited some kind of chant. As she repeated the verse, by the third repetition Wysteria felt her thirst dissipate to a dull roar in her stomach. Some kind of spell had been cast, and she was glad for the temporary relief from the urge to rip out the humans throat.

“Lyselle, my love” the Sire called, directing her call to the very human she’d been pried away from, “How long do we have until the werewolves are upon us?”

Wysteria’s frantic eyes darted from her Maker to the human. Unable to fathom what she was seeing, it was her turn to pull an expression of disdain. “My love!?” Wysteria exclaimed in her mind, hesitant to say a word to either of her saviours. What was their relationship?! Why had a human been brought to her rescue if not for food and consequent strength? An ancient vampire protecting a human like this, least of all one dressed like a Huntress no less, was difficult to decipher. It was an impossible combination. So Wysteria stilled in her Maker’s grasp, still dangling from her vice-like grip above the ground, legs swinging. She flinched away from the Ancient’s scolding eyes, lowering her gaze to the floor. The wolves would be here soon, surely. And perhaps this human was being used as bait? A distraction? There had to be an explanation…

______________________________

Violet’s ears pricked with attentiveness at her brothers instructions. She obeyed willingly, nodding in acknowledgment, her looming body lowering to all fours as she skulked the opposite way to Victor. Moving clockwise, going wide, her brother moved anti clockwise in the opposite direction.

Violet was careful to practice her skulking skills, padding her claws quietly on the soft woodland ground. She imagined herself walking on clouds, feather-like footwork making not a sound as they surrounded their vampire prey. Just like they’d practiced together hundreds of times before, Violet kept her wet nose low, sniffing softly at the scent of rotten flowers and vampire blood. Her fur had risen to stand on its end, causing her to look bigger in appearance. Heckles arched, lips pulled into a snarl, Violet waited for her brothers signal to advance. It was only when he emerged, calling for her to follow, that she would launch into attack.

Victor would know the perfect time. Until then, she continued to circle their prey somewhere a little deeper into the woodland. They were so close, now, she could taste that vampire blood on her dripping tongue…

Bloodbound & Broken

The feeling of Lyselle snuggling in closer spread a warmth throughout Ren’s body despite the cold bite of wind as they flew out of Belle View. The constant “THUD, THUD, THUD” of her wings beat like a metronome and Renaissance eyed the scenes rolling by beneath them. Like a VHS on fast forward, houses and trees and parked cars and streetlights all blurred by below. Flying was one of the most exhilarating feelings for Vampires. It almost distracted Renaissance completely from the determined fire in her belly.

Motherly instincts weren’t exactly what was at play here. Most Sire’s didn’t bond with their fledglings. You didn’t turn a human and become one big happy family, it simply wasn’t like that. Vampires were mostly solitary creatures save for a few Covens or Clans spread throughout the human world. These communities of vampires were mostly spawned by a precious few sires who lived worshipped by their fledglings. It even pre-dated Ren and she had a disdain and disapproval for the whole organisation. Vampire Covens were unwise; They were indiscreet and exposing. Hunters found it easier to track larger groups, of course, as human lives dwindled in their neighbouring presence and it was harder to be subtle in a group of seemingly ageless, foodless and unusual humans. So Ren never stuck around to know her offspring. In fact, she rarely created progeny anymore. There was no real benefit to a sireline, only a guilt for bestowing an infinite life of thirst onto an innocent human.

So, why had Ren even turned anyone in her more recent years? Her last few offspring had been born due to unforeseen health complications whilst feeding. Mostly their bodies had begun shutting down whilst she fed, and instead of letting them die… She brought them ‘back to life.’ Even in those cases, Ren hadn’t stuck around to play mummy. She’d left as soon as she could, expecting that the childe would fend for itself. Cruel? Potentially. But her survival instincts outweighed her guilty conscience. Abandonment was one thing, knowingly letting her kind suffer was another. That reason and that reason alone was what compelled her to answer the pleas of this fledgling. Her thirst for vengeance forced her hand, in this case. And it just so happened that her bonded human Huntress had obliged to accompany her.

Speaking of, Lyselle was reciting a hauntingly beautiful incantation. Ren marvelled at the poetry of it, listening to her huntress recite each and every word as she had many times before. The blessing, surprisingly, didn’t affect Ren at all. She assumed because Lys was in that much control, an impressive feat. The ancient vampire was sure this wouldn’t be the only time Lyselle would impress her with her skill. She hoped that would continue into battle, and she would be able to hold her own against their imminent opponents.

After reciting the rules to her beloved Huntress, Lyselle nodded to mark her understanding.
"Yes, your grace..." she replied. The ancient vampire blinked in acknowledgment of the title, surprised to hear herself being addressed in such a way. She let it hang in the air for a moment, chewing over the title curiously. Renaissance decided she’d accept it, and nodded once in approval. The flight continued, Lys’ dagger now glowing a dull blue with her power. Ren wondered whether she’d be forced to use it, or if this was going to be over nice and quickly. She knew her preference, of course. But as they drew nearer and nearer to the wounded fledgling, something warned Ren that this wasn’t going to be quick nor easy.

“We’re close,” Renaissance called out, glancing down at Lyselle’s beautiful face. She looked so fiercely majestic in her arms this way. So vulnerable, so malleable… Yet so strong in her power.

“I need you to be strong,” the ancient vampire said firmly, launching encouragement and confidence down the bond to her huntress. “Stay with me, listen to me… But be strong, in yourself.”
And with that, the vampire banked hard. She’d been struck with the realisation that the fledgling was nearby. So nearby that the crackly radio-like signal she’d be following became clear. A shining beacon, calling out to her like a voice at the end of a tunnel, the feeling of her fledglings pain was what drew her in.

“Going down!” Ren warned Lyselle, tightening her grip as they lowered to the treeline of the thick forest below. Careful not to catch her huge wings on surrounding branches, the ancient vampire proceeded with her landing. The trees around them circled in, closing around them both as they made contact with the forest floor. Leaves and branches crunched beneath their weight and instantly Renaissance began scanning their surroundings. If it weren’t for the moonlight cutting through the trees, their vision would be obscured by darkness. Ren would have to tap in to the young vampire victim’s energetic presence to lead the way. Eyes scanning the treeline, the woodland around them, the ancient vampire tuned in to each and every sound. She could hear the rustle of wind through leaves, the creak of branches against the breeze… And the panting breath of a wounded vampire.

Renaissance had already released Lyselle from their embrace, letting her stand on her own two feet. Shooting her a glance, she signalled for her to follow. The vampire began treading towards where she could hear those rasping, broken breaths. The smell of vampire blood trickled in through her nostrils on the back of a gust of wind and Ren nodded in acknowledgement. They were headed in the right direction… And they were close.

________________________________

"She probably wore herself out!" Victor laughed. Violet, matching his pace with a little effort, barked back in amusement and excitement. They were gaining on the wounded vampire, and the idea of soon being reunited with their prize was driving Violets legs forward. Faster. Faster. Her breaths left her chest raspy, panting as she kept her eyes laser focused on Victor’s tail. So long as she followed that, she’d be fine.

The ground seemed to rumble beneath their stampeding feet, Violet wondered if it were wise to make so much noise. Would it be sensible to sneak attack? To trail this scent until it became much stronger and then switch into skulking mode? Something more covert so as not to alarm the hiding vampire?

“Victor!” Violet barked, an excitable snarl escaping her muzzle. “Let me know when we should switch to stealth attack! I want to take her from behind…”

Bloodbound & Broken

“Oh, of course—you know us humans are famous for having wings,” Lyselle returned Renaissance’s light-hearted smile, those hazel eyes sparkling with a childlike playfulness. Their exchange was so at contrast with the task they had at hand but it was a relief to engage in something lighthearted. The lingering second-hand panic from Ren’s fledgling tickled in her gut, reminding her that the Huntress and the Vampire were walking hand in hand into danger.

It suddenly occurred to Ren that, despite being the hopeful saviours in this situation, their pairing may be somewhat of a surprise to most. A Vampire Slayer and a… Vampire? Together? Not only that, but the fledgling would have to control their thirst around Lyselle. This was an added complication that hadn’t occurred to Ren when her loyal human had said “I'm coming with you.” Lyselle’s perfumed blood would be intoxicating to a vampire lacking control, her exposed neck rippling with the offering of arteries and veins ripe for the picking. That human heart, alive and beating at an ever so tempting pace, would be the ultimate temptation for a desperate vampire. Fledglings, cornered and in danger, were exactly the breed to succumb to the pressures of thirst when presented with a source. Undoubtedly, Ren wouldn’t let even a droplet of harm come to Lyselle. Not under her watch. But it was an added danger to the fast-growing list of things to be wary of. Naturally calculated, always thinking, Ren continued to mentally prepare for all varying outcomes. She was determined to be a pillar of strength for Lyselle, her protector. The irony of that feeling wasn’t lost on her, either. The very thing that Lyselle had been trained to fear, to fight, to hate - Ren was that very thing. And now, she was her shield. Nothing would come between them, no one would put Lyselle in harms way. The ancient vampire was so certain of that fact, it brought her a comfort she sent down the bond. Feeding the thread with reassurance, promises of safety, Ren watched Lys grab a dagger.

Eyeing the Huntresses silver shortsword, wolfsbane, silver dust, holy water, and her hallowed throwing knives, the Ancient Vampire’s lips formed a hard line. Those same very weapons had been intended for her, not so long ago. She’d drawn that very short sword, flirted with plunging it into Ren’s flesh. It felt like so long ago they’d been staring across Belle View at one another, torn between curiosity and cruelty. How had so much changed in so little time? How had they gone from natural-born enemies to… This? So quickly? The bond vibrated in response, reminding them that it was due to that otherworldly connection that they were now bound by fate.

“No—I have no problem being carried. Gives me time to place at least a temporary blessing on this dagger of yours. Pairs nicely with my sword.”
Lyselle was thinking tactically already. Of course she was. A trained assassin of all things supernatural, the human slipped so easily into battle mindset. No doubt she too was mentally working her way through tactics, fighting combinations, weapon itineraries… They were similar in that way. Fighting came so naturally to the two of them, in very different flavours. One, a Hunter. The other, the Hunted. Though Ren sneered slightly at imagining herself as “the hunted”… No one hunted her. They never got the chance.

”Great idea, Lys” the ancient vampire nodded, rolling her shoulders in preparation for lifting the human into her arms. “If I’d have known one of my idiot offspring would beg for deliverance, I would’ve made time for some Blood Magic. But for the enchantment to have a strong hold, I’d need time-” the ancient vampire hissed air through her teeth. “And that, as we know, is not a commodity we possess in this moment. So I’ll have to mostly fight in the good old-fashioned way.”

Ren grandly pushed the large arched window of the Loft open and inhaled the fresh air like a claustrophobic beast locked away for too long. The night was fading fast, it would be a couple of hours until sunrise, so they had precious little time left to attack. Supernatural entities thrived in darkness, vampires included, and Ren didn’t fancy taking their chances in sunlight.

In a Romeo & Juliet carry, the vampire scooped Lyselle from her feet with the ease of a child lifting a doll. One arm wrapped under the human’s upper back, she supported her head in the cushion created by her flexed bicep and forearm. The other was cradling Lyselle’s legs, letting them dangle at her right hand side. The bond hummed, thriving at their physical contact. Though this wasn’t the closest they’d been thus far, it was certainly an intimate position. Ren realised the power of holding Lyselle in her arms this way and smiled down at her as her large, black wings snapped free. Letting them spread to their full span, the wings quivered in anticipation of flight. The breeze from the open window kissed the edges of those wings, making them twitch with excitement. Lyselle’s dark hair hung loose over Ren’s left and danced with the wind, cracking like a whip against the vampires body. Looking down at her Huntress softly, her face giving away all the anticipation she they were affronted with, Ren’s rosebud lips pulled into a weary smile.

“Hold on tight please, m’lady” she said, her voice imitating a pilots through aircraft speakers “This is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard Vamp Airlines. Our flight time today is estimated to be circa 20 minutes. Our cabin crew will now begin your safety announcements which include keeping your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. Please enjoy the view as we fly at altitude to an ominous forest filled with unknown danger and potential death. Once again, thank you for choosing to fly Vamp Airlines. Wishing you a wonderful flight.”

And then, Renaissance Le Sang took off, leaping with the grace of an antelope through the open window and out into the dead of night. Lyselle felt light in her arms, unhindering to her flight pattern. The bat wings beat hardily under the additional weight, spreading to full length to balance the distribution. As they cruised above Belle View, taking cover in the grey clouds, the ancient vampire took the opportunity to tune into that distant fledgling frequency still begging for help from the forest. It crackled as Ren tried to mentally grab hold of it, bending and fading in and out of reach. She narrowed her eyes in concentration, gripping Lyselle firmly. The fledgling wasn’t moving. Their mental SOS smoke signal was stationary in that forest, begging for discovery. The winds changed direction, causing Ren to angle her wings alternatively, banking right and riding the air wave like a gull on the shores.
“Let’s establish some ground rules before we head into battle,” Ren said loudly above the sound of beating wings and whipping winds. “First and foremost, you mustn’t die. Seriously. I want you to be careful. Put yourself first, always. If you are overpowered at any moment or you come close to lethal harm, you let me handle it. If they harm a single hair on your head, I will eradicate them immediately.”
Renaissance glanced down at Lyselle, reading her face for a reaction.
“We are to stay together. Close. Do not go idle, do not leave my sight. I want you within my reach until we establish what we’re up against… Okay?”

_____________________________

“Over here, sis,” Victor snarled, pointing his snout to that scent of rotting flowers.

“That’s her, alright!” Violet growled back in reply, her thick bristled tail whipping back and forth excitedly. The sibling werewolves were a powerful pairing. Trained together since their first moonlight turn, they moved and thought in synergy. Sniffing the air in unison, the lupine siblings readied their haunches to take off. The muscles in their impressively stocky bodies rippled as they braced for taking off.

“Probably got ahead,” Victor grunted, Violet let out a low whine in response.
“But it won’t be long now…”
She followed her brothers lead. Everywhere. Every time. He was her compass, her rock, her partner. He had always possessed alpha energy, leading her always. Victor and Violet were so fiercely determined to capture this young vampire, they wouldn’t rest until it was done. It had been a while since they’d crossed one. And they’d be celebrated by the pack for bringing back such a prize.

“Let’s get her,” Violet snarled, bearing her bloodied canines foreshadowing the young vampires fate.

Bloodbound & Broken

Wysteria, battered and bruised, had her near-naked back pressed against the roughened bark of a large tree deep in a forest she was beyond lost in.
This was as close to death as she’d come since she’d, well, died.
She couldn’t even remember how long she’d been running for. Her vampiric speed had dwindled to dangerously low levels thanks to how much energy she’d expended getting lost in this fucking forest.
The fledgling, now an adolescent vampire (technically), had taken to the undead life better than she’d imagined. Was the newborn stage absolute agony? Relentless? Torture? Fuck, yeah. Did she resent her sire with every bone, every breath? Definitely.

But Wysteria had passed that stage now. She’d pushed through the muddied, bloodied young fledgling stage and in recent years had been feeling more and more in control. She even passed as human in daylight! But it was tonight, at nightfall, that these 2 mutts had sniffed her out post feed. It was a messy meal, alright? But she’d taken precautions! They’d been drunk, stumbling home all sleazy and leery. If they hadn’t catcalled her she’d have probably let them pass, humans tasted gross when they were intoxicated. But blood was blood.

Anyway! She’d dragged the humans into the forest, covertly, and had them both pinned down for a little feast. She kinda loved how they squeaked and begged but Wyssy, in hindsight, reckoned that was the dead giveaway to the dogs.
Wysteria thought she’d gone unnoticed, in her defence. But turns out these werewolves had heightened senses too… Go figure!

The young vampire was halfway through draining them both, bearing the taste of whiskey in their bloodstream, when she’d been accosted by not one but TWO beastly werewolves. Wysteria had never clapped eyes on a werewolf before, and she was glad for it. They smelt of wet dog. Their fur was thick, wiry, so jet black it was almost blue. Their ears all pointed and hypersensitive. Muzzles dripping with thick, slimy drool. EEW.
They’d snarled at her at first, probably trying to scare her. She was so shocked at their sudden approach that she didn’t get a chance to run before they’d thrown themselves upon her.

They clawed at first. Dragging their pawed talons down her porcelain skin, shredding it open. Wysteria was in agony, okay? So she screamed a bit. (By a bit, Wysteria screamed the most blood curdling shriek she could muster) The volume of that scream, the frequency, was what startled the werewolves long enough so she could break free.

It took her half a second to take off in a super-speed sprint deep into the thicket of the woods. Ignoring the blood seeping down her back, her arms, her t-shirt hanging off her in tatters. Still, her legs pumped rapidly, feet barely touching the ground before they pushed her on and on, deeper into the trees. There was no plan, no nothing. Just fleeing. Run and run and run until the faces of those beastly dogs were far far away. Abandoning her meal made Wysteria grit her fangs in frustration, letting out a little “FUCK!” into the air.

Young vampire energy drains quickly, by the way. If you’re running at, like 40 MPH, it gets tiring. And soon enough Wysteria had to stop. She paused behind the tree, back against the bark, breathing in ragged, broken breaths. Her lungs were white-hot, burning with the effort of her escape. Then, she assessed her wounds.

“Shit!” Wysteria hissed. Then, she remembered. Her sire. That cold bitch. She was old. Ancient. Powerful. She’d know what to do. She’d know how to kill a couple werewolves, right? So Wysteria, on a whim, sent a mental plea to her maker.

“You owe me, bitch. Come and save me.”

____________________________

“I'm coming with you.”

Renaissance Le Sang’s somewhat panicked but mostly determined face relaxed for a flicker. Lyselle’s determined loyalty thawed her icy heart and she gave her a quick, tight hug.

The Ancient Vampire took a look around the Loft, realising she was having to leave, once again. Fortunately she’d just fed, so Ren was arguably at her most powerful.

“We’ll need weapons,” Ren smirked, her eyes lighting with an urgent excitement. “I don’t know exactly what we’ll be facing, but I’m certain our wits and magic won’t suffice.”
The ancient vampire snatched her cloak from the coat rack and threw it around her slender, elegant shoulders. Pinning it closed in the centre of her clavicles, she then swiftly crossed the Loft to open her large display cabinet. Behind the wooden cupboard doors was her weaponry. Miscellaneous weapons Ren had collected, like talismans, were mounted neatly on bespoke hooks fastened in 6 rows one above the other. Some of her collection had been made for her especially, either under duress or out of love (or both), and some was stolen from fallen foes. Either way, there was something for everyone in this cabinet. Other than guns. She didn’t appreciate them. Too messy, too impersonal.

”Take what you can or what you want,” Renaissance said to Lyselle over her shoulder, gesturing to the weaponry. Distracted and feeling the pressure of saving the fledgling before anything more terrible happened, Ren knew they had precious seconds before they had to leave. There was a trail to follow and they needed to move quickly.
She was busy sizing up each weapon option, debating which she’d prefer to bring. The sense of urgency pushing her into a decision, Ren settled on her silver, ruby-encrusted dagger. Lifting her layered black skirt, the ancient vampire fastened her leather garter-scabbard around her upper thigh. Letting out a “humph” of satisfaction, Ren sheathed the dagger in the scabbard and dropped the skirt so it remained disguised.

“It’s a 20 minute flight away - roughly” Renaissance said, pacing the Loft whilst she waited for her gorgeous Huntress to make her selection. “We’ve got to fly, okay? You’ll have to either mount my back or let me carry you. Is that going to bother you? Now would be a fine time to grow a pair of wings from that human back of yours…” Renaissance bent down to fiddle with the adjustment of the scabbard around her thigh and tossed Lyselle a wink. They had to get moving, soon.