Moon — Roleplayer Guild

September 8th, 2016. Thursday night. 

The loud music bounced against the inside of her skull. Each beat reverberating throughout her entire being. She could feel it in her chest, a vigorous pounding like a heartbeat, a pale echo of the one she once possessed. It made her feel alive, it made her feel at home. The dark room, the smoke hanging in the air, the smell of bodies and alcohol and life. It all felt right. She didn’t know the song, and didn’t care to either. They all sounded the same these days, at least in places like this. The thin row of LEDs running along the walls of the room cast scarlet light along the dark walls and red velvet curtains, giving the room a sinister feeling. This wasn’t her normal haunt, a club owned by another vampire, but rather one that had just opened. It was nice enough, the private room not as accommodating as she had grown used to, but it served its purpose well enough. With any more bodies than the four that occupied it, it would feel crowded. 

Lyra sat in the midst of the group upon the new white leather couch, her black dress strikingly dark in contrast. Her two thralls sat beside her, one to each side. All three stared intently at the fourth man who stood before them. He was a big guy, muscled with a strong neck and wide shoulders. She had lured him into her room with a slight touch and a coy smile, and he seemed content enough to just stare at her now.

“What do you guys think?” Lyra asked, her icy blue eyes piercing the stranger. When she made a new thrall, she liked to get some other opinions. There was no use wasting blood on someone you’d regret choosing later.

“He’s certainly big,” Anne replied simply, her brown hair falling to one side as she cocked her head.

Ryan took longer to answer, as he was preoccupied making neat little lines on the table to the side of the couch with a razor. Once he finished, he looked up. “You can do better,” he said dismissively, looking to Lyra. “His type are a dime a dozen these days.”

Truth be told, he was right. The guy was not much different than the hundred guys just outside their private room, drinking and trying to pick up girls who were even further gone than they were. The club seemed to attract a certain crowd, that was for sure. None of these children would be able to keep up with them.

“You’re right,” Lyra said, standing.

She walked over to the guy, extending her hand. He took it, with a bit of apprehension. Her influence on him must have been waning. With their newly established contact, Lyra was easily able to renew it. This time, she dove deep into him, her power radiating from her skin into his. She placed her other hand on his neck, doubling down with her influence. Within a few moments, he was entirely hers. Humans were easy targets, especially drunk and horny ones.

With a smile, she led him over to her seat. Having him kneel in front of the couch, Lyra turned to Ryan. Without a word, he handed her the razor which she proceeded to use to open her wrists. A smirk flashed across her face as the bright red lines appeared. In one fluid motion, she extended her arms out to her thralls and dug her fangs deep into the muscled neck of the man in front of her.

September 9th, 2016. Friday night. 

“A glass of chardonnay, please,” Lyra said as she sat at the bar. “On him.”

The man she sat next to turned to her and smiled, his teeth white as snow. He had beady eyes and his dark hair was slicked back, giving him an appropriately sleazy look for someone in his line of work.

“I didn’t think you drank,” he said, his Russian accent made him sound harsh. His words sounded like one thing, but meant the other. He knew what she was, or at least had some idea.

“Oh, I don’t,” she spoke, smiling. “I just like to play the part.”

She took the glass in her hand once the bartender placed it in front of her and turned to look out over the restaurant. It was a much classier place than the one she had been in last night, in a much nicer part of town. Different types of fun, in her opinion. The room was well lit, with candles on the white cloth covered tables and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. Soft classical music was gently playing, intermingling with the dull buzzing of silverware on plates and conversation.

“So why is it that I’m meeting with you, and not him?” the man asked. “A lesser man would be offended and take his business elsewhere.”
“Well then I suppose we’re all lucky you aren’t a lesser man,” Lyra replied, giving a light giggle and touching his arm. Her power radiated from her skin, just for a moment, until she pulled back. “Daniel figured you’d enjoy my company to his.”

“He’s not entirely wrong,” the man replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well then, shall we get this business talk out of the way so we can enjoy ourselves? Besides, we both know this is just a formality. Working together, both parties have benefitted. Is there really much reason to discuss anything at all?”

Detecting a moment of hesitation on his part, she reached out once more. Her hand rested gracefully on his, their eyes connecting. This man was one of Daniel’s small time dealers. He had a unique supply, but didn’t offer anywhere near enough for a meeting with Daniel himself. So that was why Lyra was here, to bat her eyes and convince him to continue on with their current deal.

“You’re right,” he replied, his eyes looking less sharp than they had moments before. “Let’s have some fun.”

And with that, Lyra put her drink down and led him off into the night. She’d give herself to this man, sealing the deal for quite some time. She didn’t mind it, if Daniel had asked it of her surely it must be important.

---

Lyra left the man’s hotel room not an hour before the sun would rise. It wasn’t too far from her apartment, so she wasn’t worried about being caught out in the daylight. No one was on the streets yet, the first gentle rays of sunlight had not yet peaked up from beyond the horizon to wake them from their slumber.

She turned the corner and noticed a woman standing a few feet away, her eyes dull and her face unflinching. She wore posh clothes, they were nice, but not something Lyra would be caught dead in. Well, more dead than she already was. Lyra could tell instantly she was a thrall. The woman didn’t seem to have much of whoever she was before left in her.

Silently, the thrall handed Lyra a sealed letter and walked off.

September 10th, 2016. Saturday night. 

Lyra walked down to the warehouse on dock 15, giddy with excitement. The letter was vague, but seemed promising enough. If anything it would be interesting. Sure, the thought of a trap or some other sinister plan crossed her mind, but she figured there was nothing to be gained without taking a little risk.

She walked into the room, her natural grace exuding from her with each precisely placed step. She wore more practical clothes than she was used to, tight pants, a pair of boots, and a form fitting top. In the off chance it was a trap, wearing a dress would be fairly detrimental to her survival.

There were already four others there, not including the thrall woman and the other thrall she was with. A blonde woman, with eyes darkened by mascara. A hooded figure with ghoulish claws, freely displayed on the conference table. A woman with thick, dark hair. And a rather handsome man. Lyra decided to take a seat next to the man, the motion accompanied by a small smile and a flash of her blue eyes.
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