Unexpected Visitors. Again. (Fang, Residents)

[Deleted]

Thrown to the ground, Isis got up again, turning to glare at him, but was slapped down. The taste in her mouth immediately became coppery, and she knew that Dark Fang had broken flesh. Of course, he could have hit her much harer, to literally break her jaw, or worse, and the cold air of the night added a bit of a sting to her cheek. Pulled up roughly, Isis could feel him lick her cheek, raw flesh being caressed for but a moment. The necromancer bit her lower lip, struggling away from him. Of course, to defend or attack, she must be calm, but what happens when she could be pushed too far in the other direction? Either way, this wouldn't end well.

She hissed at him, pushing the Lycan away, struggling to stand up. Her cheek still felt pain, and took two steps away from him, backing up, like a deer caught in the healights of a car, body shaking. His touches, well, anybody's touches for that matter, she hated, hated that close, intimate contact. It was something that she had been born with, an irrational loathing of such, intensified by the vampire situation. "Just . . stop." Her eyes met his, challenging him. "I know my place. Master doesn't respect you, and so I have no reason to." She was basically stuck here, until the Lycan got tired of their game and ended it, one way or another, or reinforcements came, though the latter was more likely. But if pushed too far, like she had never been before, then there was no telling the outcome.

[darkdrago889]

He pick her up by her throat. "Oh this will be most fun." He slam her into the wall continuously until her body went limp. "Still awake are you?" He pulls her closer to him, he gives her a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll let you know, this experince will be a life lesson." He laughs as he rips her shirt his claws cutting her chest. FInding a tracker."Oh dear." He shrugs it off. He looks and the tracker and breaks it. "If you think I'm strong now my dear...Wait until you see me as a lycan. And if I do decide to turn it means I might have to kill you or turn you into my minion." He laughs but stops after hear hearing a twig break. "Oh my looks like I have to change locations." He snaps her neck enough to make her pass out not die. "Must be a hunter or worst." He looks at Isis. "My dear......I will wake you when the pain starts." He runs to a different area with a different prize before the other find him.

-exits-

[lucius]

An unamused glance was cast at Hiro as the Lycan rather rudely grabbed at Lucius. All of this work to prove that they were not rabid beasts and then they acted so much like them, denying to the world somewhat more civilized things such as protocol, manners, and respect. Here Lucius was, being lectured on things long since past that he had little to do with. Some one thousand years ago, while he was half his age and therefor much more foolish and ambitious, Lucius had embarked on one of those silly little crusades with a coven to whip the Lycans into shape after they had attacked a village being protected by the vampires. Lucius had made amends for that many times over, starting with a twelve-year imprisonment he had faced in some Lycan stronghold as a slave himself, the beasts happily gloating over capturing one of the ancient vampires. Since then, Lucius had worked to improve relations between the races and push coexistence; but vampires like Kayen and lycans like Dark Fang made that increasingly difficult to achieve.

With narrowed eyes, the elder scowled at Hiro. "Do not lecture me on pain, Lycan, nor on relations between our races. Of all vampires, I have worked hardest to bring stability to this chaotic world your feud with my kind creates," said Lucius, his own anger flaring up. But, he calmed himself at about the same time Hiro died, taking a breath. His refocused on Hiro, his fangs retracting some. "Fine. But if my men must kill the madman to save my slave, I will allow them to take the shot. It is not often one comes across a necromancer, especially one who serves so well as my Isis, and I will do what I must to protect her. Please have your men follow the scent of Dark Fang, and get them back promptly. If that happens I will allow Dark Fang to go alive; but I do not give more than a second chance. He cannot threaten my life, my home, or my people again," said Lucius, saying his 'people' rather than his 'kind' for the residents of ZaneCorp were of all races and modes.

He was about to take the hand of the Lycan when Hiro jumped out of the window after Anastasia, the vampire elder's eyes following them out the window. Lucius merely sighed, turning and walking back to his desk, glancing around the trashed room. He knew Ana would probably be in some danger, but he knew she could handle herself, especially with Hiro backing her and bounty hunters chasing them around the entire city.

The ancient creature hit a button on his computer, which miraculously survived any damage, and looked at the tracer following Fang and Isis. Intelligent as the vampires were with their technology, the tracers were of course little chips actually injected into the slaves; if they were something easily to be broken off, then it would be easy for slaves to get rid of them and make the whole thing rather pointless. With Isis' scent known to the ZaneCorp people and Fang's scent known to the Lycans, and the tracker assisting humans or others without the keen senses of the immortals, Lucius knew it would only be a matter of time before they were caught. He watched the vitality signs of Isis closely; they had dropped somewhat, unexpectedly. Perhaps she had just been hit or something that made her go unconscious.

He hit a button on his computer, sending a message to the teams he had going out into the city. "Make sure that Ms. Steele and the Lycan Lord remain unharmed," he said, more for Ana's sake than for Hiro's.

Reaching up and rubbing his head, Lucius turned his gaze back towards the smoldering doorway, another problem facing him. "Mr. Beaumont, come here," said the vampire elder, straightening his tie. "It seems we have some things to talk about."

[jared]

Jarrett wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up out in the main hall once again. He also wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain that his body had collided with at least one other in the process. He had been laying here in a state of semi-consciousness for several minutes when his eyes opened again. He was half leaning, half laying there in the hall, his body against the wall between two security guards. He opened his eyes and looked up at them, "What happened?"

Neither of them said anything. The first of the two was rubbing the back of his head. Jarrett shrugged his shoulder, moving them to make sure he could. This was the second time in a short while that he'd been thrown. He would have liked to say he was getting used to it but that would have been a lie. He was going to be sore. The boy could tell it already. He remembered why he'd been running through the other door now, "Wait...Mister Erif...Is he alright? Is he safe?"

The two men were already holding him down with both hands. The teen kicked his feet, anything to try and free himself. These guys didn't seem to want to listen to him. One of them said something about following orders and Jarrett rallied back, "Answer me! Is he safe?!" He was trying to get leverage, anything to pry himself out of their hands, even going so far as to kick his legs or try and pushed against the wall when he had the chance. He yelled at one of them, "Let me go!?"

"Mr. Beaumont, come here," said the vampire elder, straightening his tie. "It seems we have some things to talk about."

Jarrett got very quiet then. He didn't know if he would be in trouble now. More than that he was having a difficult time getting his mind around what had just happened. All because if what he was thinking was now true, then everything he had wanted had been right in front of him all along. He did his best to fix his clothing, to make sure that he looked his best before stepping back through the doorway, "Yes, sir, I'm here."

He couldn't hide his relief when he saw that Lucius was seemingly unharmed. He had yet to see the fangs, anything out of the ordinary. Beyond the trashed office, that is. Already it was growing darker outside, he could feel the night breeze coming in from the window. He stepped over something broken, a chair maybe then crossed to stand in front of the wide desk, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get in the way. I..just..." He didn't want to finish that sentence, nor could he look the man in the eye right now. He'd just been so worried for the man.

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

The rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins as she darted across the room, having switched clips in mid stride, thinking of nothing other than the girls life. Anastasia could not allow for such behavior, not when she witnessed it. The fact that no one else even made a step toward the window, or door for that matter, had her blood boiling. Teeth gritting as she pushed off, turning to face the open window as she leapt, a cold glare to its occupants before she descended hellbound. The grip of the cold evening air coiling about her figure, enveloping her in to the darkness and accepting her as one with the night. The thick hedges below drew closer faster than she could have imagined they would have. Don't close your eyes. Focus. Tucking her arms in close to her body, gun aimed for the sky across her chest as she tilted her head back. The sweet caress of the airflow around her figure in the slick silk night attire was worth relishing in, even for just a second, especially when what was about to come next could hurt so badly.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

Hair whipped in resistance to the rush of air around her, eyes closing for a brief moment as she readied for impact- the air in her lungs escaping with a smooth, silent exhale. Surely the impact would---Her body was taken in to an unexpected grasp just before the ground collided with the duo. At that moment she was on top of the man, straddling across his waist- pistol at the ready. The barrel was steadily held, braced by a square positioning of her shoulders as she peered down the sights between the mans eyes beneath her. "Monstrosity." She nearly spat at him, the demon within, her urge to take his life, welling up behind her eyes as her chest rose with a deep inhale. Finger tightened against the stiff trigger until only a hair separated it from releasing a fresh bullet from the renewed clip. His question seeped forth, yet was gone unanswered. Cold stare pierced his being from above him, realizing rather instantly that he was not whom she was after, however she would have words to say to him later, she leapt from his body in to an immediate run. How kind of him to break her fall.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

Bare feet on the manicured grass were silent, even in a full out run. Pistol at the ready, her other hand cradling the butt of the gun within inches from the wrist sheath on her opposite arm. High silver content, often used for the slaying of vampires, hopefully would do the trick, that is, if she found them before they left the scene all together. "Here Doggy, doggy, doggy.."She whispered, each word oozing with sarcasm and a twist of rage. Yet by the sounds of things, the night only grew thicker, quieter, around her. Her pace dwindled, until she found herself on an empty street, not even the sound of a vehicle nearby to shatter the silence around her.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead

[lucius]

It must have been an odd sight to see. Lucius, his suit having some dust and debris upon it and his hair slightly disheveled, sitting at a desk with debris on it as well, surrounding by an office with broken windows, stains throughout the carpet, holes in the walls, and generally a complete mess. Despite it all, Lucius looked fairly calm and unaffected by anything, as if what he just happened was usual (which, in two thousand years, it was not too odd an occurrence) and had not bothered him at all. In fact, he was rather bothered by it and would demanding an extreme punishment forced on Dark Fang if Isis was hurt which, judging by the vitality signs on his computer from the tracker in her, she was certainly being hurt. Lucius did not tolerate blatant and uncalled for attacks upon him, and especially not upon those under his protection or service. The crazy ninja lycan monstrosity would pay.

But, for now, his blue eyes--a paler blue than usual--focused on Jarrett as the boy walked in. Lucius leaned back into his chair, staring at the boy and trying to feel his feelings. He was obviously confused, that perplexing feeling come rather strong from him. There was also a mixture of fear, worry, and wonder. The ancient vampire knew that tonight had probably blown the facade put up around the student intern, especially what with Lucius telekinetically lifting him off of the ground and thrusting him through a door. The yelling of lycans and argument had probably not helped things either. Lucius had originally planned on revealing things to Jarrett, but he had imagined much more suitable circumstances.

"Do not apologize. Just make a note to be more careful of allowing your curiosity to control you in the future," said Lucius, his finger lightly tapping at his desk. The office would need to be redone, he noted. Good thing it was not his main office, which was much more grand and in the top floor of the tower. "You no doubt have questions about some of the... oddities. What did you see?"

[jared]

Jarrett was so accustomed to seeing Mister Erif so impeccably dressed that the sight of the man surrounded by destruction and he himself tainted by such a thing was a little shocking. He had perhaps begun to imagine the man as untouchable, as above the pettiness of such mundane things as the dust and grime that affected the rest of humanity. And no matter how much he would have liked to have been the same, looking down at his ripped slacks he knew he was not. He hadn't felt it when it happened, but the pants leg must have caught on a jagged piece of wood when he'd been sent back through the door. His mind was actively seeking out the logical reasons something like that could have happened but each reasonable solution was almost instantly discounted and rebuked.

Jarrett looked at the man again, finding the man's unearthly calm both soothing and as surprising as the idea of using a lint roller on the man's sleeves was when the urge had hit him to do just that. In reaction, Jarrett checked his own clothing, smoothing it out to make himself more presentable. He had at least a dozen questions in mind but he wasn't sure he wanted to ask them. It was like that night with the Vampire and the Angel, when faced with the truth, Jarrett realized that he'd been seeking something that he didn't truly understand. He nodded, having already accepted Lucius as a mentor, "I will be careful."

Jarrett's eyes went to the finger tapping lightly on the surface of the desk. And to the debris next to it. He waited, sensing that there was more the man was going to say. And when those words were said, Jarrett held his tongue. He needed those few seconds to get at least some of his thoughts in order, "I do have questions." He took in a breath. Jarrett released the breath and asked, "How did you do that? I saw your hand move and the next thing I woke up." He already felt he knew the answer but he wanted to hear it for himself.

[lucius]

A soft sigh escaped the ancient vampire's lips as Jarrett asked the question. Could Lucius lie? Certainly so. His words could convince people of many things, and with control of the city's media he was used to spinning all sorts of stories to cover up certain odd and supernatural occurrences in the city. However, the intern was a very smart young man, and obviously quite curious, and Lucius knew that even his web of excuses would be questioned and the student/model would find out things eventually. No, perhaps it was best to come clean now, despite how much Lucius did not like having such a lack of control over the circumstances of the great revelation he was about to give to Jarrett.

"It is called telekinesis; the power to move physical objects with but a thought," said Lucius, standing from his chair. He turned around, gazing back out the broken window and looking over the city that his company had helped build up so many years ago, under his supervision then as it was now. "I suppose it is no used hiding anymore. You see, Mr. Beaumont, there are many things in this world that are different than they appear; many oddities hiding in plain sight. All those stories of things that go bump in the night--the myths, the legends--are true, for the most part."

He folded his hands behind his back, staring out the window at an angle that gave Jarrett a profile view of his form, half his face in light before the boy and the other half hidden from view. "My full name is Lucius Maximilian Cornelianus Erif de Romanus. You know much more about me than you think, Mr. Beaumont, for over the past few days you have been reading through my histories," said Lucius, turning and letting his blue gaze fall upon Jarrett. "I was born in one-hundred and seventy five, anno domine. I died twenty-two years later in one-hundred and ninety-seven."

[jared]

He hadn't thought that telekinesis was real. Not outside of one or two special reports written by scientists who were hopeful of fantasy and the like. He hadn't seen proof of its existence, not until today. He replied, "I know what it is, but I thought it was the stuff of legend, or fantasy." He was getting the impression that he'd been looking at the world through blinders, only seeing what he wanted to see. Or more specifically what people wanted him to see.

He smiled at the terminology used by Lucius, things that go bump in the night. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to have the answers to many of his questions. He was virtually holding his breath now, waiting for the shoe to drop, for the man before him to finish what he was saying. He followed the man now as he stood at the window. As the light hit upon the man's skin he was once again reminded how handsome he was. This fact was compounded ten fold by the way the mad carried himself. Jarrett couldn't have imagined a more perfect man if he'd tried. He could only hope to one day be half as regal or accomplished.

"I thought it was you. The man in the books." He said quietly after a time. He lifted his eyes, once again looking at the man. He thought he knew the answer, but he asked, "What are you?" He hoped the answer would be, "Are you a vampire?" He flet his breath catch, the man's blue eyes falling upon him. Once again he felt as if the man was looking right through him. He waited. He had the feeling that with a few simple words his life was about to change.

[lucius]

The ancient vampire elder turned, his pale blue gaze once more settling squarely upon Jarrett. "Yes. I am a vampire. A very old one, as you know. There are not too many like me anymore. A few dozen, at most. We like our solitude and quietness, and thus tend to reserve ourselves to greater secrecy than many of our younger brethren," said Lucius as he turned and approached his desk again. He took a seat at the damaged place of work, his eyes remaining focused on Jarrett. It was an odd feeling coming from the boy. It was not fear and excitement, which tended to be felt by mortals when one revealed oneself as one of the damned. There was excitement, yes, but it seemed to be more full of wonder than anything else.

"I was turned at that battle in Gaul many centuries ago. Wounded, I was dragged off of the field in the twilight hours by a majestic-looking man. He introduced himself as Magnus, though I later learned him to be a vampire named Santino Magnus Draco Mael Tepes, one of the vampire progenitors. He turned me that night," said the media magnate, his gaze never leaving the boy before him. "That thing that just attacked me as a lycan, a powerful type of werewolf-like creature that the vampires discovered and bred centuries ago, and who seemed to be locked in some type of eternal struggle with my kind. The creature he took was human, though a necromancer-- a pet of mine with the ability to raise the dead. That other woman was simply that-- a mortal woman, though with a reputation as a vampire slayer."

He cocked his head to the side, a slight grin forming on the edge of his lips. He spoke of such tremendous things for a mortal to hear so simply. "I suppose you have questions."