The steady click of metal gears shifting into position was instantly recognizable. This was not the first time that Johnathan had stood face to face with automated security systems, although even he had never encountered one as sophisticated as Bob. Mechanics remain mechanics already, and Johnathan had already took cover as the turret popped out from the cieling, only to find another moving down near his position. He already knew there was no cover he could move to in time, not if his intial calculations of the turret's firing rate were accurate. However, he was thickly armored, and he had few locations to protect, and as such merely moved his hands in front of his face to form a shield against the incoming hail of gunfire. Moments later, of course, he was blown to the side as the belt of grenades he had taken from the armory went off, the explosion ripping through even his armor, leaving a large hole, filled with shrapnel.
Johnathan stood his ground despite the shockwave, and both his arms remained intact however. He had long outrgrown the necessity for pain. It was a receptor, information as to the state of his physical form, and nothing more. Although to most pain prohibited, to Johnathan it didn't even slow him down, and neither did the sudden lack of his left lung, and massive internal damage and blood loss. He'd walked off worse, after all. Overall, there was very little that had happened to piss off Johnathan, when you think of it tactically. But one thing truly did annoy the humanoid killing machine.
That bastard had broken his favorite armor.
Even as the illusion appeared before him, Johnathan almost subconsciously recalled the gathered information he had gained from Soldier. While the higher ups certainly didn't like him, and had tried to kill him a fair number of times, Soldier was almost always willing to help when it came to killing Oldbloods. They were all too happy to have Johnathan go out and kill their opponents for them, and thus provided all the data gathered on Magnus, from his abilities to his hideouts and known associations, a veritable gold mine. Flashing this information in front of him, Johnathan smiled, as he stood up. Magnus wasn't able to read thoughts, or if he could it had never been confirmed by SOLDIER. But if he was, he'd be moving for the exit already, and Jophnathan had every intent to cut him off.
Moving his hand up, Johnathn grabbed the crucifix bolted into his skull. A loud cracking could be heard almost echoiing through the metal corridors, as without so much as flincing, Johnathan cracked his own skull open. With an almost explosive burst of blood, the crucifix was ripped out of the skull, bolts and all. And even as they did, the air almost instantly changed. A wave of raw killing intent shot down the psychic link Magnus had created, the unnatural pent up rage of hundreds of years of brutal slaughter. Every shred of anger and murderous intent Johnathan would have felt in the 800 years since his last awakening, suppressed and combined into this state of pure fury and murderous intent.
Johanthan's entire body started fluctuating, twisting in ways the human anatomy was incapable of supporting. Even as the bullets struck harmlessly into flesh that stretched impossibly, plates of armor jumped loose from Johanthan's skeleton, ripped off by his convulsions, the bolts popping out of his skin as the holes close. Bullets pepper his flesh, to no apparent effect, as the holes simply close as if nothing had happened. His flesh is red and raw, covered in seeping blood, as Johnathan screeches as a beast, a sound that no human or vampire could have produced. For 800 years, johnathan had suppressed not only his hatred, but his regenerative capabilities, as well as a fraction of his strength and speed.
Johnathan's arm burst open, the skin splattering the walls as a stream of blood shot out. It moved as if of it's own volition, reaching up like a swarm of red tentacles, and with incredible strength, ripped the turret from the wall, digging into it's circuitry and mechanics. Even as Johnathan was electrocuted, he only let out another mindnumbing screech, and within seconds the second turret had been wiped out. The vampires that would have intervened had fled, those manning the cameras ran. There was a primal fear that outdid any sentient thought, hundreds of years of evolution had not suppressed this base instinct. The survival instinct.
There was no longer such a being as Johnathan. Not now. Now, there was only the Beast.
And Magnus was it's prey.
((PS: Grenades do not explode when they are shot. While this is a popular misconception, it is wholly incorrect. Grenades explode due to a chamical reaction, which is not affected by heat or motion, and is thus one of the most stable explosives one could carry around. I allowed this to work in this post because it fits action movie logic, but I in no way wanted to encourage this misconception.
Thank you for your time.))
A slow smile crept across Gabriel's face as Mithias acted as hi personal meat shield. He had been prepared for an event such as this, of course, but it was nice to see that little Mith was as loyal as ever. Not even Gabriel could move the stick anymore, so firmly had it been planted up his ass. But there were a number of problems that needed to be dealt with before Gabriel considered how next to amuse himself. He was the oldest of vampire kind, known in fear as the God of Vampires, the Absolute Alpha, and this little twerp of a mortal being had had the balls to decieve himself into the delusion he had a chance. A hope. That he, a fruitfly with a life span less than a thousand years long, could defeat a God. And the bright smile that had briefly illuminated Gabriel's face slipped into a sadistic smirk.
"Oh my. It seems we have a hero here, attacking me head on like that." Gabriel's tone was a slow drool, every note dripping with pleasure. "It seems SOLDIER has a lot of heroes, why, I met one just by the gate. A brave man, he fights because his family was slain by vampires. Got himself a wife and children, and then moved on to make sure no vampire would ever threaten his family." A click can be heard as Gabriel pauses, just for a moment, in his speech. Not a word is spoken, not a sound is heard, it's as if the entire camp, now gathered around Gabe, was holding their breath. "Such a brave, compassionate man, when he saw me walk through the fog he didn't even hesitate. He fought his way through the fear I'd forced on his mind, pulled the pin on a grenade, and tried to tackle me. Because that's what true heroes do, isn't it? They die for their loved ones, they die for their country, they die for their...."
A loud bang echoes through the clearing, as the man on Gabriel's right blasts his own brains out. Blood hits the ground, out towards the crowd so as not to ruin Gabriel's rather expensive outfit. Still outfitted with the chilling, inhuman smile, he dropped to his knees, and then crashed to the ground. However, the tears of blood had been mixed with real tears, and the expression of pain in the man's eyes had been unmistakeable. In his last moments, he had been fully conscious.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I lost my train of thought." Gabriel leaned forward, crossing his arms to lean his head on his remaining minion's head. His smile is one of genuine, almost childlike joy, as his eyes sweep the crowd. "Who wanted to be the hero again? Please do step forward."
thewizardguy
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Just a random guy, doing random things.
Main RP: Hell's Coffee Lounge
Current RPs change often enough that it's too much effort keeping a list of them updated.
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Yeah, I was thinking of something along those lines.
To Mithias, the rolling coils of mist seemed to be nothing more than a slgiht hindrance, lapping low among the ground without truly obscuring his vision. With vampiric senses, the night was almost as clear as day, and as far as he could see there were agents of SOLDIER, running from invisible foes. Like a silent play, each and every one scuffling around like a madman, haunted by Gabriel's power of illusion and manipulation, and yet not a single scream filled the night air. As if all sound had been muffled, cries dying in the throat before they could even be uttered. It was almost a comedic sight, ruined only by the perpetual expression of fear, written onto the faces of those least capable of withstanding the aura of fear that Gabriel had chosen to adorn. Mithias himself could feel it flowing around him, touching on the edges of his mind, attempting to seep through the slightest cracks in his mental defense.
The ancient vampire smiled, as he always did, revealing the array of pointed teeth common to Oldbloods. His black coat was lined with gold, the interior a velvet red to match his eyes. When he spoke, the voice was a deep one, spoken with a strange, predatory grace. Like the words of a lion, inspecting it's prey, tinged by an almost childish excitement that Mithias recognized all too well. Gabriel was in a mood, and when he got into a mood, it ended badly for those around him. "Mithias, fancy seeing you in a place like this! I thought you were stationed a bit further away, but I suppose quite the event IS about to go down over here. After I'm done here, we should get a coffee, or a drink, or an orphan. You know I like myself an orphan or two." Gabriel simply smiled at Mithias's blanched face, devoid of color. However, both knew it was not the mention of infanticide that had shocked Mithias, for Mithias was used to his sire's sense of humor.
On either side of Gabriel stood the beings he had chosen as escorts on this particular venture. Two figures, one a black haired, thin man, the other a short brunette. They wore the SOLDIER uniform and apparel, most likely they had been stationed here, and had had the bad luck of running into Gabriel when he marched into the base. But even though they stood there, it was nearly impossible to consider them human.
There are certain tendencies built into the human neural system. Fingers that move together with other fingers, movements that coincide, that cannot be properly performed seperately. It is impossible for a human to smile, without their eyes smiling as well. The two agents smiled, baring their teeth in an almost impossibly wide grin, even as the blood from the tears this caused slowly dribbled down their chin. And yet, their eyes wept tears of blood, agonisingly switching from object to object, despeately searching for a way out. For beneath the hold Gabriel had placed on their movements, they were fully conscious. It felt wrong, on a very base level, just looking at these faces, so twisted beyond recognition, like a mask made of flesh.
"As much as I appreciate meeting you, my boy, you're not the reason I've come to this desolate corner of the world. No, there are certain people in this camp who I need to speak with, I have a message or two to give to a couple of SOLDIER. I know I usually don't do politics, but every now and then, I do like to get out." Giving Mithias a bright smile, Gabriel had already turned, as a figure blundered towards the small group, apparently scared out of his mind. Although it was hard to recognize the face, as the figure constantly looked around in a blur of movement, the uniform made it clear that it was, in fact, Matt. "Look, here he comes right now! Well, I guess someone up there likes me, what perfect timing!"
Slowly, the fog sank down, and Mithias could feel the terror that had attempted to infiltrate his mind sink back into the mists of Gabriel's thoughts. It was like a cloak, formed of the terrors of man, an apparel of horrifying majesty that dwarfed the quality of even the finests silks that he had crafted into his suit. And, so dressed for meeting, Gabriel faced the asssembled members of SOLDIER, escorts at his side, happily turning his back towards Mithias. "Why hello there, humans. I was just stopping by, do you mind if we have drink? I believe I have something to discuss."
The ancient vampire smiled, as he always did, revealing the array of pointed teeth common to Oldbloods. His black coat was lined with gold, the interior a velvet red to match his eyes. When he spoke, the voice was a deep one, spoken with a strange, predatory grace. Like the words of a lion, inspecting it's prey, tinged by an almost childish excitement that Mithias recognized all too well. Gabriel was in a mood, and when he got into a mood, it ended badly for those around him. "Mithias, fancy seeing you in a place like this! I thought you were stationed a bit further away, but I suppose quite the event IS about to go down over here. After I'm done here, we should get a coffee, or a drink, or an orphan. You know I like myself an orphan or two." Gabriel simply smiled at Mithias's blanched face, devoid of color. However, both knew it was not the mention of infanticide that had shocked Mithias, for Mithias was used to his sire's sense of humor.
On either side of Gabriel stood the beings he had chosen as escorts on this particular venture. Two figures, one a black haired, thin man, the other a short brunette. They wore the SOLDIER uniform and apparel, most likely they had been stationed here, and had had the bad luck of running into Gabriel when he marched into the base. But even though they stood there, it was nearly impossible to consider them human.
There are certain tendencies built into the human neural system. Fingers that move together with other fingers, movements that coincide, that cannot be properly performed seperately. It is impossible for a human to smile, without their eyes smiling as well. The two agents smiled, baring their teeth in an almost impossibly wide grin, even as the blood from the tears this caused slowly dribbled down their chin. And yet, their eyes wept tears of blood, agonisingly switching from object to object, despeately searching for a way out. For beneath the hold Gabriel had placed on their movements, they were fully conscious. It felt wrong, on a very base level, just looking at these faces, so twisted beyond recognition, like a mask made of flesh.
"As much as I appreciate meeting you, my boy, you're not the reason I've come to this desolate corner of the world. No, there are certain people in this camp who I need to speak with, I have a message or two to give to a couple of SOLDIER. I know I usually don't do politics, but every now and then, I do like to get out." Giving Mithias a bright smile, Gabriel had already turned, as a figure blundered towards the small group, apparently scared out of his mind. Although it was hard to recognize the face, as the figure constantly looked around in a blur of movement, the uniform made it clear that it was, in fact, Matt. "Look, here he comes right now! Well, I guess someone up there likes me, what perfect timing!"
Slowly, the fog sank down, and Mithias could feel the terror that had attempted to infiltrate his mind sink back into the mists of Gabriel's thoughts. It was like a cloak, formed of the terrors of man, an apparel of horrifying majesty that dwarfed the quality of even the finests silks that he had crafted into his suit. And, so dressed for meeting, Gabriel faced the asssembled members of SOLDIER, escorts at his side, happily turning his back towards Mithias. "Why hello there, humans. I was just stopping by, do you mind if we have drink? I believe I have something to discuss."
I love the soldier's perspective post, that was awesome. Mind if in my next post I show just what haoppened to Sten?
Night was soon approaching, as was the hour at which Magnus had planned his attack. The scent of fear would be easily recognizable to any vampire, as each of the many sentries scoured the treeline for signs of the vampire army. Each of them infected reality with their own fears, twisting each shadow into a silent stalker, each sound into the rustle of footsteps, each flicker a red glowing eye. Guns were held at the ready, but the safety remained on, if it had not been shots would have been fired already, as many of these men had yet to see true action of such a scale. In fact, such a massive conflict between man and undead was almost unheard of. These men, who cherished the short time they had left to them, had good reason to fear.
And as they watched, the shadows stirred, and the gras rustled upwards. Slowly rose dark shapes, long streaks of fog rushing over the ground, rising out of the gras like a long forgotten spirit. Moving at a speed that would startle any who knew little of fog, the spirit rapidly enveloped the base, slithers of grey clinging onto every shape, leaving it's damp fingerprints on every surface. With every breath, the cold damp filled the lungs of those waiting and watching, the truth further obscured from them, lost in a mist formed solely by their imagination. And, to those who had been sent to watch, to those who truly felt the fear hammering at their hearts in that moment, they could see the faces of demons rush by them. They felt the ice-cold hand of a vampire caress the base of their neck, the eyes of a predator assessing the value of their blood. The chill that touched them was not from the cold, but from a primal fear that filled every living being capable of such an emotion.
For there were faces in the fog. And the faces watched, and they laughed, and they smiled. The faces spoke of stories long past, all meaning stripped away by the endless march of time. The whispers were pleasant, and welcoming, as each smiling face invited them. Quiet cooing and wooing, like a mother holding out her hand to guide a particularly dim witted child, the reassurance of a parent washing over those who had moments before beheld the fog with such frightful expectations.
One by one, the lights went out, and the faces still smiled. They cheered and chuckled, and hugged and played, and boisteriously told of events long past. It was so easy, to simply let go, to simply admit the correctness of one's elders. To accept the guiding hand offered. Smiling, each moth wandered willingly into the fire, laughing as they were consumed from within by the darkness of their own fear.
One by one, the lights went out. And all communication with the outer sentries was broken.
The scent of fear was in the air, indeed, and now it was augmented. The slight scent of copper moved among the silent buildings, carried by faint chuckles and sneers, and whispers in the fog. Blood had been spilled, and it would not be the first.
A smiling figure moved among the shadows, and they crawled to him. His eyes were bright, a silent red glow escaping from under the red brim of the top hat he had chosen to wear. Hands gloved in human flesh rearanged an elegant suit, the red fabric a product of great art, the life's work of a madman. The tail coats of the jacket he wore moved in time with the walk, almost inhumanly long legs striding, as the thin tall figure strode forward. And yet, even as this ghastly apparition moved through the perimeter that had only moments ago been under heavy guard, the elegant black shoes made no sound on the wet grass, the fog around him obscuring the details of his appearance. Behind him, crying softly to themselves, faces smiled in the fog, whispering of events not long past. For it had been but moments ago, that the faces had possessed bodies. And they had been able to stop smiling.
The Lord of Vampire had come, and his escort had joined him. Tonight, more blood would be spilled, as the faces of the damned laughed, and chuckled, and boisteriously told of events long past.
And as they watched, the shadows stirred, and the gras rustled upwards. Slowly rose dark shapes, long streaks of fog rushing over the ground, rising out of the gras like a long forgotten spirit. Moving at a speed that would startle any who knew little of fog, the spirit rapidly enveloped the base, slithers of grey clinging onto every shape, leaving it's damp fingerprints on every surface. With every breath, the cold damp filled the lungs of those waiting and watching, the truth further obscured from them, lost in a mist formed solely by their imagination. And, to those who had been sent to watch, to those who truly felt the fear hammering at their hearts in that moment, they could see the faces of demons rush by them. They felt the ice-cold hand of a vampire caress the base of their neck, the eyes of a predator assessing the value of their blood. The chill that touched them was not from the cold, but from a primal fear that filled every living being capable of such an emotion.
For there were faces in the fog. And the faces watched, and they laughed, and they smiled. The faces spoke of stories long past, all meaning stripped away by the endless march of time. The whispers were pleasant, and welcoming, as each smiling face invited them. Quiet cooing and wooing, like a mother holding out her hand to guide a particularly dim witted child, the reassurance of a parent washing over those who had moments before beheld the fog with such frightful expectations.
One by one, the lights went out, and the faces still smiled. They cheered and chuckled, and hugged and played, and boisteriously told of events long past. It was so easy, to simply let go, to simply admit the correctness of one's elders. To accept the guiding hand offered. Smiling, each moth wandered willingly into the fire, laughing as they were consumed from within by the darkness of their own fear.
One by one, the lights went out. And all communication with the outer sentries was broken.
The scent of fear was in the air, indeed, and now it was augmented. The slight scent of copper moved among the silent buildings, carried by faint chuckles and sneers, and whispers in the fog. Blood had been spilled, and it would not be the first.
A smiling figure moved among the shadows, and they crawled to him. His eyes were bright, a silent red glow escaping from under the red brim of the top hat he had chosen to wear. Hands gloved in human flesh rearanged an elegant suit, the red fabric a product of great art, the life's work of a madman. The tail coats of the jacket he wore moved in time with the walk, almost inhumanly long legs striding, as the thin tall figure strode forward. And yet, even as this ghastly apparition moved through the perimeter that had only moments ago been under heavy guard, the elegant black shoes made no sound on the wet grass, the fog around him obscuring the details of his appearance. Behind him, crying softly to themselves, faces smiled in the fog, whispering of events not long past. For it had been but moments ago, that the faces had possessed bodies. And they had been able to stop smiling.
The Lord of Vampire had come, and his escort had joined him. Tonight, more blood would be spilled, as the faces of the damned laughed, and chuckled, and boisteriously told of events long past.
Wraithblade6 said
Tomorrow morning, mass chat in steam. Be there, or I will hunt you down for breaking contract. >>
So, shouldn't this be happening around.... now?
Even as Magnus walked away, Johnathan had already cast his senses around him. It was rather easy to locate the training area, as it was one of the few places from which the distinct sound of weapons clattering could be heard. Simply from the sound, Johnathan identified the six vampires within, who were training with a variety of bladed weapons. One of them was using an eastern blade, the sound was slightly softer, suggesting a more finely crafted edge. As the door opened, and the first vampire turned towards Johnathan, he breathed in, and time seemed to slow. With the simple act of taking a breath, wholly unnecessary for a vampire such as himself, he seemed to transform the metal room into a network of footprints and moving lines, eyes projecting a field of view, as easy to see to Johnathan as an arm, or a leg. Every time a muscle was triggered, it caused a movement in the skin, an automatic countermovement to balance it out. Every action, every thought, was predated by the subconscious language of the body as muscles tensed and coiled. As Johnathan entered the Warrior Trance, the room bared it's secrets.
A movement forward, marked with a hesitation. The first vampire, unsure of this unexpected enemy, wasn't putting his full force behind the forward strike with the long blade. It slid harmlessly past Johnathan's armor, a simple sidestep redirecting the power of the blade with the minimum required movement. A foot moved forward behind his opponent's leg, and a palm snap to the forehead sent the youngblood flying backwards, snapping his neck. In less than a second it was incapacitated, what to a mortal being would have been nothing but a blur.
The second and third vampire were already rushing towards him, but in their haste they had abandoned caution. Extending two fingers of his gauntletted hand, Johnathan caught the first blade in between, directing his opponent's strike aside, even as he spun around him. Even a vampiric limb cannot move outside it's boundaries, and the vampire lost his weapon in the same instant he lost use of his lower body. Neck shattered, he clocked to the floor, having served no purpose other than to shield Johnathan from the third vampire's assault. And even as the third turned to attempt to strike once more, the blade Johnathan had so aptly reappropriated pierced his neck, and shattered the base of his spine. Johnathan had thrown it with inhuman force and precision, and with that, ended the battle.
To SOLDIER, it was always hard to incapacitate a vampire without killing it. Virtually indestructible, there was very little trauma that could stop a vampire from killing without ending it's life. However, to one as skilled as Johnathan it was but a minor inconvenience, as he had learned many years ago that the secret lay in the spine. For a vampire can survive such an injury that would be lethal to a human, and it serves as the perfect method to paralyze them indefinitely. Of course, this did not excuse the hesitation that Johnathan had had with his movements. After all, not fighting armies of vampires was one of the things that had kept him alive all these years. The slight tinge of fear had made him tardy in his movements, and slow to deal with these fools. It should have been over within half the time.
The knowledge that Johnathan faced a force with the potential capability of killing him, and that he had no way out, was not one he was used to. There weren't many things left that posed a true threat to Johnathan. But it would seem he'd have to get used to fear once more, for this would be the most dangerous path he had taken in all the centuries of his existence.
And if he succeeded, he would become the true Lord of Vampires.
Looking at the camera that had observed the event, Johnathan simply smiled, as he took a string of grenades from the armoury. No doubt more guards would find him, but they were no threat. Indeed, after Magnus discovered he was busy, Johnathan doubted he would be facing any more resistance. Throwing soldiers at such an enemy was not a tactic Magnus would indulge. No, he realized Magnus would most likely trap him, and attempt to kill him with explosives or heavy weaponry, manipulating him through his vast knowledge of the base. It would be the most tactically sound plan of action to take, endangering as little of his plans as possible.
Smiling, Johnathan Broke another two necks, his body moving on auto pilot without any true direction from his conscious line of thought. Indeed, as he had stated, there were three reasons he had come here. The third was to kill Gabriel, and, by drinking his blood and absorbing his sheer power, applying it with his genius and expertise, he would become the most powerful being ever to roam the Earth. The second was Mithias, the son of Gabriel. Mithias was one of the few with the power to resist Gabriel's extensive array of psychic powers, and thus formed both the only threat to his Godhood, and potentially the greatest asset in defeating Gabriel. He would have to be either manipulated into aiding Johnathan, or eliminated from the equation. The first reason, that preceded all others, however, was to face Magnus, and defeat him. He would challenge Magnus, prove himself the greater vampire, and take control of his resources. If he was going to become a God, then he would need a sword appropriate for the job of slaying the First, and there were few vampires out there with more access to advanced weaponry.
Johnathan walked down the iron corridors, every vampire that approached falling to the blur of hands and blades that was Johnathan, known righteously as one of the greatest warriors of Earth. As he anticipated the coming battle, his blood started boiling, and fear ate at the edge of his heart. Indeed, this would be one of the few paths that could have led to his demise. However, he had never been one to shy from danger, and he found the taste of fear an exotic delicacy, reserved for his greatest moments. And for the first time in two hundred years, the once crusader smiled.
A movement forward, marked with a hesitation. The first vampire, unsure of this unexpected enemy, wasn't putting his full force behind the forward strike with the long blade. It slid harmlessly past Johnathan's armor, a simple sidestep redirecting the power of the blade with the minimum required movement. A foot moved forward behind his opponent's leg, and a palm snap to the forehead sent the youngblood flying backwards, snapping his neck. In less than a second it was incapacitated, what to a mortal being would have been nothing but a blur.
The second and third vampire were already rushing towards him, but in their haste they had abandoned caution. Extending two fingers of his gauntletted hand, Johnathan caught the first blade in between, directing his opponent's strike aside, even as he spun around him. Even a vampiric limb cannot move outside it's boundaries, and the vampire lost his weapon in the same instant he lost use of his lower body. Neck shattered, he clocked to the floor, having served no purpose other than to shield Johnathan from the third vampire's assault. And even as the third turned to attempt to strike once more, the blade Johnathan had so aptly reappropriated pierced his neck, and shattered the base of his spine. Johnathan had thrown it with inhuman force and precision, and with that, ended the battle.
To SOLDIER, it was always hard to incapacitate a vampire without killing it. Virtually indestructible, there was very little trauma that could stop a vampire from killing without ending it's life. However, to one as skilled as Johnathan it was but a minor inconvenience, as he had learned many years ago that the secret lay in the spine. For a vampire can survive such an injury that would be lethal to a human, and it serves as the perfect method to paralyze them indefinitely. Of course, this did not excuse the hesitation that Johnathan had had with his movements. After all, not fighting armies of vampires was one of the things that had kept him alive all these years. The slight tinge of fear had made him tardy in his movements, and slow to deal with these fools. It should have been over within half the time.
The knowledge that Johnathan faced a force with the potential capability of killing him, and that he had no way out, was not one he was used to. There weren't many things left that posed a true threat to Johnathan. But it would seem he'd have to get used to fear once more, for this would be the most dangerous path he had taken in all the centuries of his existence.
And if he succeeded, he would become the true Lord of Vampires.
Looking at the camera that had observed the event, Johnathan simply smiled, as he took a string of grenades from the armoury. No doubt more guards would find him, but they were no threat. Indeed, after Magnus discovered he was busy, Johnathan doubted he would be facing any more resistance. Throwing soldiers at such an enemy was not a tactic Magnus would indulge. No, he realized Magnus would most likely trap him, and attempt to kill him with explosives or heavy weaponry, manipulating him through his vast knowledge of the base. It would be the most tactically sound plan of action to take, endangering as little of his plans as possible.
Smiling, Johnathan Broke another two necks, his body moving on auto pilot without any true direction from his conscious line of thought. Indeed, as he had stated, there were three reasons he had come here. The third was to kill Gabriel, and, by drinking his blood and absorbing his sheer power, applying it with his genius and expertise, he would become the most powerful being ever to roam the Earth. The second was Mithias, the son of Gabriel. Mithias was one of the few with the power to resist Gabriel's extensive array of psychic powers, and thus formed both the only threat to his Godhood, and potentially the greatest asset in defeating Gabriel. He would have to be either manipulated into aiding Johnathan, or eliminated from the equation. The first reason, that preceded all others, however, was to face Magnus, and defeat him. He would challenge Magnus, prove himself the greater vampire, and take control of his resources. If he was going to become a God, then he would need a sword appropriate for the job of slaying the First, and there were few vampires out there with more access to advanced weaponry.
Johnathan walked down the iron corridors, every vampire that approached falling to the blur of hands and blades that was Johnathan, known righteously as one of the greatest warriors of Earth. As he anticipated the coming battle, his blood started boiling, and fear ate at the edge of his heart. Indeed, this would be one of the few paths that could have led to his demise. However, he had never been one to shy from danger, and he found the taste of fear an exotic delicacy, reserved for his greatest moments. And for the first time in two hundred years, the once crusader smiled.
I´m back! Oh God, I was in the terrifying land of No Internet. We tried to switch routers, and it kind of crashed, so I´ve been completely gone for quite a bit. Sorry for not posting or doing anything!
Johnathan was simple and cold, as he observed his surroundings. Instantly, he registered any aspects of the environment that could be of use to him in a fight, and made careful note of the way the doors had been opened. He'd not lived this long with so many enemies by being lax, and there was no such thing as catching the warrior vampire off guard.
The area behind the great doors that had formed his first obstacle in coming here stood in stark contrast to the caves he had come from. They were dimly but effectively lit by lights on the cieling, a comfortable light level for vampires. Uneven and natural caves had been replaced by straight, chiseled corridors plated with iron, regular reinforced collumns helping to hold up the weight of the earth above. The first chamber had been outfitted with several defensive structures, including a couple of chest-high walls for cover and a camera, seen spying from the corner. Several corridors branched out from this central area, and Johnathan's advanced senses could pick up a large amount of vampires moving within this vast structure, giving him an idea of just how large this place was. Correlating what he could now observe in his mind with what he had already researched before coming here, he came to the conclusion that this building was 7-8 floors deep, and contained an average of 5 rooms per floor. If he were to attempt to kill Magnus right now, who's guard was down, he figured it would take at least 10 minutes for a vampire to walk out and find the corpse. Depending on the integrity of the command structure, it might take hours after to form a party to hunt down the killer, although in Magnus' case, he estimated it at 30 min. There would be some commotion over the death, but Magnus was a structured man, and would have appointed a second-on-command. The camera feeds would be an issue if he wished to remain clandestine, but he had no such intentions.
Having completeld his analysis of the situation, as well as the combat capability of all potential opponents in the area, Johnathan turned to Magnus after only a moment or two of awkward silence. When he spoke, his tone was cold and practical, but there was no hostility in it. Magnus knew from experience that Johnathan rarely broke his cold and stern practicality, and when he did, it was usually during a good fight. "I'm here for three reasons, Magnus. The first directly involves you, the second might involve you if you live past today." Johnathan walked in, swiftly turnign to stand in the middle of the room, with his back turned towards the wall. He'd instantly see and be able to react to anyone entering the room from any direction. Again, it was not out of any particular hostility that he did this, nor did he expect Magnus' forces to attack him, but Johnathan was a very practical fellow, who was always prepared for anything. After all, this would not be the first time he was attacked when he least expected it.
"Magnus, you are about to go to war with the humans, and the war you initiate will expand in ways even you are not at this point aware." Not giving Magnus any chance to interrupt his speech, Johnathan briskly continued. "The attack on Kilo Point you are planning has been anticipated, and SOLDIER has focused it's attentions there. The oldbloods and elites are gathering here, and whenever they do, it ends in bloodshed. This place will be the battleground for a showdown which will quite possibly prove to be the end of either you, or SOLDIER." A new tone crept into Johnathan's voice as he continued. It was not fear, revulsion, or awe, as were the tones that were usually used for this particular subject. Rather, it was a kind of tight, contained excitement. "Furthermore, the First, Gabriel, is coming to Kilo Point. Whatever his reasons might be, he might actually interfere this time. And when he gets involved, it'll be a true slaughter. This is a battle you don't want to lose."
The area behind the great doors that had formed his first obstacle in coming here stood in stark contrast to the caves he had come from. They were dimly but effectively lit by lights on the cieling, a comfortable light level for vampires. Uneven and natural caves had been replaced by straight, chiseled corridors plated with iron, regular reinforced collumns helping to hold up the weight of the earth above. The first chamber had been outfitted with several defensive structures, including a couple of chest-high walls for cover and a camera, seen spying from the corner. Several corridors branched out from this central area, and Johnathan's advanced senses could pick up a large amount of vampires moving within this vast structure, giving him an idea of just how large this place was. Correlating what he could now observe in his mind with what he had already researched before coming here, he came to the conclusion that this building was 7-8 floors deep, and contained an average of 5 rooms per floor. If he were to attempt to kill Magnus right now, who's guard was down, he figured it would take at least 10 minutes for a vampire to walk out and find the corpse. Depending on the integrity of the command structure, it might take hours after to form a party to hunt down the killer, although in Magnus' case, he estimated it at 30 min. There would be some commotion over the death, but Magnus was a structured man, and would have appointed a second-on-command. The camera feeds would be an issue if he wished to remain clandestine, but he had no such intentions.
Having completeld his analysis of the situation, as well as the combat capability of all potential opponents in the area, Johnathan turned to Magnus after only a moment or two of awkward silence. When he spoke, his tone was cold and practical, but there was no hostility in it. Magnus knew from experience that Johnathan rarely broke his cold and stern practicality, and when he did, it was usually during a good fight. "I'm here for three reasons, Magnus. The first directly involves you, the second might involve you if you live past today." Johnathan walked in, swiftly turnign to stand in the middle of the room, with his back turned towards the wall. He'd instantly see and be able to react to anyone entering the room from any direction. Again, it was not out of any particular hostility that he did this, nor did he expect Magnus' forces to attack him, but Johnathan was a very practical fellow, who was always prepared for anything. After all, this would not be the first time he was attacked when he least expected it.
"Magnus, you are about to go to war with the humans, and the war you initiate will expand in ways even you are not at this point aware." Not giving Magnus any chance to interrupt his speech, Johnathan briskly continued. "The attack on Kilo Point you are planning has been anticipated, and SOLDIER has focused it's attentions there. The oldbloods and elites are gathering here, and whenever they do, it ends in bloodshed. This place will be the battleground for a showdown which will quite possibly prove to be the end of either you, or SOLDIER." A new tone crept into Johnathan's voice as he continued. It was not fear, revulsion, or awe, as were the tones that were usually used for this particular subject. Rather, it was a kind of tight, contained excitement. "Furthermore, the First, Gabriel, is coming to Kilo Point. Whatever his reasons might be, he might actually interfere this time. And when he gets involved, it'll be a true slaughter. This is a battle you don't want to lose."
Alternate Names: The Moon Baron, The Vampire Lord, The First, The Eternal One, Cain, Hades, Adam
Age: Gabriel is said to be one of the oldest vampires ever to have walked the Earth. According to many, he was the very first vampire to be spawned, and he supposedly holds the secrets to where vampires came from. Others say that he's merely one of the more mysterious Oldbloods. His true age is a complete mystery. The first mention of a powerful vampire by the name of Gabriel dates back 500 years, but there are links to comparable beings as far back as Ancient Egypt and China, two of the oldest civilisations ever to grace the planet, and he's been known to state that he's used multiple names.
Capabilities: Like his true name and age, Gabriel's true powers are a mystery. According to some, he formed the inspiration for dracula, and he can transform into beast, hypnotise his opponents, and his only weakness is sunlight. However, many claim that he is capable of turning day to night, switching bodies, calling up the dead from their graves, and performing a whole list of increasingly unlikely acts of magic. Throughout history he has supposedly performed every act of magic known, including the parting of the red sea, and devouring the sun itself. While quite clearly the vast majority of these acts of power are mere fabrication, Gabriel quite clearly spreads deceit and misdirection everywhere he goes, intentionally making his true power and limits unclear. Perhaps the greatest power he possesses is the sheer reputation he has garnered through these acts of misdirection, although those poor fools who attempt to challenge Gabriel, and prove his reputation false, tend to be driven to insanity. Those few who have seen Gabriel truly fight and lived are in no state to tell reality from their own delusions.
History: From the moment of SOLDIER's first founding, Gabriel has been a target of immense interest. Vampires throughout all of history have believed in a 'first', supposedly a being that was the very first vampire. This would be a god among vampires, a religous figure of immense power, capable of wiping out entire armies with ease. Of course, different vampiric religions added multiple details, but this figure was always incredibly powerful, incredibly ancient, and usually aloof from the world. Gabriel seems to have occupied this space, and thus the natural question was whether he truly was the First, or simply an enterprising vampire who wanted the reputation. Of course, researching a vampire that intentionally makes all information about it scarce, and has the power to spread deceit and insanity wherever it goes, is more less futile. For every piece of accurate information, there are a hundred pieces of bullshit, and finding the truth is nearly impossible.
What is known about Gabriel is the patterns in which he moves, and the aftereffects of his passage. Unlike most vampires, he doesn't seek out conflict, and seems completely content most of the time simply walking among men, observing, or perhaps discreetly spreading chaos. He has been recorded performing almost every vice, from gambling to adultery - apparently he's quite the flatterer, although even this is unsure, as the lady also claimed he picked her up in an Apache. The general gist seems that as long as nobody bothers him, Gabriel has no intention of messing with the affairs of the world, at least not in any noticeable manner. He's even purchased a couple of houses, which were then tracked down, and then left alone. SOLDIER rapidly discovered that attempting to spy on the self-proclaimed Lord of Vampires was an incredibly bad idea, because with a few words Gabriel could start a vampiric Holy War.
Currently, it's unknown if he had anything to do with the shattering of the Blood Compact. Dresden, one of the Oldbloods held responsible for spreading a hate for humans among vampire kind, as well as wiping out several SOLDIER outposts, has not been seen to have any real connection to Gabriel. However, Gabriel IS known to be blood related to Mithias, although the amount of generations between is completely unknown.This is one of the reason Mithias was originally accepted into SOLDIER, although it soon became apparent that Gabriel had little interest in his estranged family.
Personality: Again, as with all things surrounding the self-proclaimed Lord of Vampires, his intentions and views of the world are an enigma. However, he's been known to be flamboyant and fickle, quickly turning from friendly to raging. He can be terrifying and cruel when he feels like it, and scenes have been found where he somehow forced a man to eat his own children alive, or drove a small child into a cataconic state of depression just for bumping into him. However, there are also stories of him performing miracle cures to those he liked, supposedly solving cancer as well as a number of other diseases. Some have even sought him out for his supposed capability to cure even terminal illnesses. Lastly, he's been known to enjoy a variety of games and activities. He'll happily engage in games of chess, poker, or any other game of luck or skill, esspecially when the stakes are high. Some people have even won their lives or families by challenging Gabriel to a game of one sort or another.
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