Curse of the Navari - Starts

[RaZoR LeAf]

Finally got it up and running. How ironic, it's halloween tomorrow, that's the same date i posted the first Cursed RPG. Sign Up forms can be found HERE

Davro

Atop a tall building, smoke billowed out of ventilation shafts, rarely disturbed except for the raging battle that was taking place. Three human figures were engaged in a bare knuckle fight. The main fighter, dressed all in black wore a heavy coat that hid most of his body. The other two, lithe pale faced and a glint of animal in their eyes. They fought together, spinning and attempting to trap the other.

Davro twisted around and brought an arm up to deflect the punch thrown by his enemy. He spun around and kicked the assailant in the chest, knocking him back into a wall, and at the same time feinted a dodge to the right tricking another attacker from behind into faltering. Grabbing the arm behind him, Davro pushed his feet into the ground and threw the attacker straight over his shoulder whereupon they crashed into the first and both feel against the wall again.

Quickly Davro leapt forward, putting force into his jump he was upon them in an instant, pinning one against the wall by his neck and holding the other at bay with a shotgun. A moment to catch his breath and he heard a deep growl to the side of him. He allowed a quick glance to the side spotting a third attacker slowly approaching. The attacker he held pinned against the walled laughed.
"What now Navari? Can't take on three of us at once can you?" he spat. The newcomer charged, running solidly towards Davro's right flank, as he neared Davro pulled the trigger of the shotgun pumping a silver lined bullet into the body of one attacker, then revealed a third arm hidden beneath his black coat, and simply stabbed the third firmly in the heart.

As both fell to the floor he turned back to face the one he had pinned. He was struggling to break free, but being raised off the floor wasn't helping. Davro cocked the shotgun with one hand and brushed his hair back with his third. He glanced down at both the fallen beings he had already hit. The one shot was slowly disintegrating from the heart outwards, howling and writhing in pain all the time. The other was gone, save a blackened pile of ash with a silver dagger sat firmly in the top. He tightened his grip and pushed the last one up the wall further.
"Listen to me vampire and listen good. You go tell your boss, or whoever it is that's running you circus of vermin that times are changing. The Navari are here, and we're not going to let you cause any more trouble. You got that?" He pushed it tighter against the wall again "Got That?"
Davro threw the vampire to the ground behind him and jumped onto the high transmitter pillar and looked down at the vampire. It scrambled to it's feet and ran off. Davro waited for it to disappear where upon he dropped back to the roof and breathed a sigh of relief. He picked up his dagger and wandered off into the night.

Earlier that day had been a cause for concern, and was the main reason he was out this night. Patrolling the University Grounds was common for him, but today he had strayed further in-city. He taught world history and crypto-zoology to a group of 18-20 somethings. They would often ask crazy questions about Yeti's and the Loch Ness monster, things that Davro would discount but also inform about.

---

"Hey sir, what about Vampires?" some kid from the back asked. He glanced up at the boy, not recognising him. A few students had transferred here from other schools. Davro sat on the end of his desk looking at his class. Obviously everyone was intrigued to find out what their professor had to say about the so called demon's of the night.

"Vampires huh? Which branch of vampires do you want to know about? I mean, you must have all read or at least seen Mary Shelly's Dracula. That's a prime example of a classic vampire. Vampires are evil beings, they don't get good feelings or have souls from gypsies like modern TV will have you believe. They aren't rivals with Lycanthropes like recent films say. Silver, Garlic, a Stake through the heart or Sunlight. That's how to kill a vampire, nothing else works."

"What about this?" A girl asked, holding up a Christian cross. She was dressed all in black, her face paled by make up and her eyes and lips also blackened. There weren't that many so called 'goths' in his class, which he was initially surprised at.

"According to writings and parchment from ancient civilisation, vampires have existed long before any organised religion. A religious symbol does nothing to a vampire. Not the cross, not the Star of David, not the Egyption Ahnk. Vampires are of course semi-human, a demon seed inside a human body. They feed on human blood, turning those they wish into their own kind. Most of the myths you know of is generally true."

"You seem to know a lot about them sir, know one personally do you?"

This brought several snickers from the class. Davro just smiled.
"I wrote a paper on vampires. It's in the library if you wish to read it. It's entitled 'A Curse on Humanity, The Nosferatu'. Now, can we get back to todays work?"

"Speaking of Cursed sir.." Davro froze, it was that boy he didn't know again, but the way he said the word cursed made him weary. "What are the Navari?"

Davro looked up at the boy trying to discern the boys motives. Did he know? No, he couldn't possibly. Davro adjusted his glasses and said as calmly as possible "I don't recognise that name sorry. Perhaps you'd like to fill me in after this session." The boy just smirked and nodded almost knowingly. Davro stared at him for too long. He closed his eyes, the fake on closing through stimulus and muscle strength, then continued on with the lesson.

--

Bringing his thoughts back in line with the night's activities davro hopped onto his apartment balcony and entering his one bedroom flat. He threw his coat onto a chair and began to undress, locking his armour and weapons away safe and out of sight. Something was going on he knew it. There were no written texts of the Navari other than in Nosferatu society. How did this boy learn to word, let alone know to link it with being Cursed and vampires. He'd tried to find the boy after class but he'd gone. Davro sighed, he needed to rest, he would learn more tomorrow. He also needed to contact other Navari in the neighbourhood. They needed to know what was going on, and they all needed to find out what was happening in the upper ranks of Nosferatu Society.


Fethrin
In the past Vapires had lived in slums, filth ridden places, where the common Rattus enjoyed wallowing in grime and the waste of humans. Not anymore. Though, what vampires had upgraded to in the more recent past wasn't that great, atleast you weren't knee high in shit. Since the construction of subways and underground trasnport, there were numerous platforms and hideaways that weren't used, they were out of the way, but had access into the city easily enough. They were the perfect hideout. And lets face it, the Nosferatu had reasons to hide.
Fethrin flicked a scrap of paper out of his way with his stick before continuing to walk into the room he called his home. He'd have prefered an upmarket suite in some swanky hotel, but the wings would have been a dead giveaway.

Two vampires were making out in the shadows of a small alcove. They were softbloods, once human and turned by some other vampire. Fethrin hiself wasn't born a vampire per sé, but atleast he wasn't some wana be kid off the streets looking for an easy way out of their problems. As he continued walking another vampire came running up behind him and plowed past him.
"Hey you mongrel, watch where' you're going!" Fethrin yelled after him. The runer skidded to a halt and turned around.
"Shut the hell up Batman, i've had a bad night!" He growled.
Fethrin made a low gutteral growl, that insult was starting to piss him off big time. He didn't want blood on his shirt again, the cleaning bills on Gucci Silk was impossible. He let the growl go and straightened up.
"Navari got you running scared have they?" Fethrin mused "You left with two others, now you're back panicked and alone."
"I don't see you out fighting them Fethrin, maybe you should go see what you can do."
"The last Navari I saw was in Germany. Just before I tore her arm off and left her to bleed to death on the banking of a river."
"Whatever.
"You go see your boss. See if he gives a damn about your brother and his bitch. Their lives mean nothing to him. I hear he's got a lot on his mind these days."

Fethrin walked off leaving the soft blood to run off. Something was going on, and Fethrin hated being kept out of the loop. Whether the others liked it or not, the loop was going to get bigger. Soon.


Sloan

Late night, early morning. Working around the clock, nobody really gave a damn what time it was, there weren't many windows in the ISE base anyway, all lightning was artificial. The morgue was, for lack of a better word, dead. Which to be honest was a change, the amount of bodies that were prone to leaping up and trying to break out was a bit of a shock sometimes, but when you've worked there long enough you'd get used to it.
Rebecca Sloan stirred her coffee. Black, extra strong, one sugar. She had been trying to write up an autopsy for the last three hours, but had so far only gotten as far as the victim's name and cause of death. Severe blood loss leading to heart failiure. Vampire Bite. Not that uncommon. She took a sip of her coffee and scribbled a few more notes down.

A clatter of metal on the cold floor behind her barely made her blink, but he following cry of "Holy ****!". She sighed, grabbed her coffee and made her way into one of the other rooms. She wasn't alone in the morgue, aside from all the refrigerated dead bodies and numerous, possibly still living severed limbs, there was another person working that night. Marcus Finch was in the middle of an autopsy on an animal carcass that has been found in someone's garden. As Rebecca walked in she found an organ tray on the floor with kidney or two nearby, the animal, a dog by the looks, hanging off the table with a scalpel jammed into it's head between the eyes.
"Vampire dog?" she asked.
Marcus turned to look at her, still breathing hard. "No."
"Oh." she said, and began to walk out again.
"I think vampiric fleas. Damn things are biting me now."
"That's a new one. The guys upstairs will love that. They suck blood, they bite whatever they can find, and they can jump really bloody high."
"Very funny."

---

Navari - You should be out hunting, killing off Nosferatu, etc. It's between 1:00am and 3:00am so still dark. There's not many people on the streets just straggling late night clubbers.

Nosferatu - The Nosferatu live in unused subway stations, or along the Underground Tube routes.

ISE - You should be working in offices or at home.

In general I'm leaving the location we're in unamed, so just imagine a big ciy and play along those lines.

[Krystalline Kabutops]

~Name: Soluun Forveil

~Age: 17

~Gender: Male

~Description: He has wings and arms in the same appendage. They have the shape of a normal human arm, but the bones can lock in place for flight. The feathers and skin along his arms that make it possible for him to fly can fold up against the arm itself, making bearly a bulge under loose, long-sleeved shirts. His lips are hard and protrude somewhat, resembling a beak. Feathers extend down the back of his neck, and all the way down his back to his waist. His hands are hard like a bird's claw, yet still flexible. He has black talons instead of fingernails, and his feet only have 3 elongated toes, along with a fourth, smaller toe that folds around the sole of his foot in a show, but is quite strong. His feet are the same as his hands,, in the aspect of being hard and having talons, not toenails. His eyes have small, slitted pupils. His hair is black, and comes down to his neck. He is 6'2, with a gymnastic build. He usually wears a large overcoat or tranchcoat, along with a black, loose, long sleeved shirt, navy jeans, and black sneakers.

~Personality: He's rather aloof, not liking to initiate conversations or make friends. However, when he feels comfortable, he can be quite a people person, telling jokes and yukking it up. He doesn't like killing, despite his rather emotionless actions, and occasionally hesitates in battle. This hasn't cost him anything serious yet, but it can't last forever...

~Demon Breed: Corvus

~History: He's been a street urchin for as long as he can remember, never having known any parental figure. Because of this, he's learned to keep to himself, and get by via any means nessacary. He's only recently started changing, and when he did his confronations with local gangs rose considerably. He was beaten to within an inch of his life one night, and left to die in an alleyway. However, he was found by an older Navari, and taken in. He was taught of the Navari, and their fight with the Nosferatu. He was trained, taught how to use his claws and wings to defend himself. He eventually left, and is fending for himself once more on the streets.

~Abilities: He has extraordinary sight and hearing, although his sense of smell is sub-par. He can fly for extended periods of time, although not indefinately. He's very good with his talons, and can roost in a tree if need be. He's not strong, but he's agile, and he makes every blow count.

~Weapons: He has a throwing knife, a small handgun, and a large scythe. The scythe is unique, in that it is designed specifically for hunting Nosferatu. The blade is steel, with a coating of silver to make it especially potent, while retaining it's durability due to the steel inside.

~Other: He finds it easier to bond with other Navari than normal humans.


Soluun
\~V~/

I sighed. Nosferatu apparently didn't like the city park, for I hadn't seen any all night. Shifting on the branch I was perched on, I pulled an energy bar out of one of my coat's pockets, snapped it in half, and put one of the halves in my mouth. Chewing slowly, I scanned the park one final time. Not seeing anyone that looked unusual (Heck, there was hardly anyone at ALL; The only people in the area where a couple of drunks, trying to beat a bench apart. They seemed to be under the impression that it was a bear.), I flew off into the night sky.

No matter how many times I had done it, I got a thrill from flying. The feel of the wind on your face, the ground below... Some nights, I would just fly through the alleys, dodging clotheslines and lights. Seeing my destination ahead, I put on an extra surge of speed, and landed shortly thereafter.

Currently, I was inhabiting a construction site. The workers had been on strike for at least a week now, and it had plenty of habitable spots. Climbing up between a pair of beams, I entered my dwelling. It was really just a lot of plywood thrown over a few beams to keep me from falling through, but I had scavenged some scraps of cloth to insulate the place. Curling up in a corner, I fell into a light sleep, one eye open.

[Bulbasaur4]

YAY! It starts!


Name: Elizabeth Relies but she now goes by the name, Vylia Morai
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Description: Vylia seems to be your average human... from a far far awya distance. She's average height, about 5'8 with a slim yet slightly athletic build. Her skin however, is pale... almost shimmering, silver-like pale. Despite how odd her pale skin color is, it some how comes across as beautiful or enchanting. Her hair matches in her skin color, being long and soft and going slightly past her shoulders. Her hair color is a bit more silver with a few hues of a barely tracible human blonde. her eyes are a dazzling silver as well.. and at night she stands out horribly in human clothes.
So, she wears black jean-like pants, but they are the stretchy material that hugs to her body. For a top, she wears a black, long-sleeved shirt that hugs tightly much like her jeans. About her neck is a silver chain, with a cresent moon shape upon it. Wrapped about her body is a cloak... with a hood, that is black in color as well.

Her hands are highly odd as well. Upon her left back hand is a moon symbol, etched into her skin at birth with black ink. Upon her right hand's palm, is the symbol of the sun itched into her skin at birth in white ink. Upon her back is a pair of two small, semi-transparent wings that are draconic. She has a matching, extremely slender tail that is dragon-like. Their color matches that of her pale skin. (Her skin is not hard like a Draconis, but rather very soft.) Poking through her hair, are cat-like ears that are a bit larger than a cat's, but the same appearance.
Personality: Vylia is soft spoken and mysterious. She flees from almost anything, and rarely gives a fight whether it be verbally or physically. She means well to everything, and is very peaceful and intelligent. However her history and current state cause her to shy away from most beings.
Demon Breed: Nefertiti (This Breed is almost like a cross breed between a Draconis and Jharin. A Pure demon would have the body of a slender, non-rough skinned dragon. They have extremely agile bodies, and while they do have the wings, tail and overall body of a dragon. However they have longer, sharper claws and teeth. Their eyes are slitted, and they not only have horns but cat-like ears as well. They are capable of speed and agility, as well as creating an extremely high-pitched cry to cause pain to others. However they are more so known for dark manipulation. A rare demon breed.)
History: Vylia was born on Halloween… oddly enough. Her parents were of the middle-class, and generally they were well-to-do and living in upper New York. When Vylia was born, she had startling silver eyes and her skin and hair were the same color that they are now. The hospital, as well as her parents, were stunned and shocked. (They have the Ancient Gypsy heritage on Vylia’s father’s side, but they didn’t know it.) The doctors could not determine why Vylia looked the way she did, because it appeared that nothing in her body was damaged or incapable of making color. Vylia also had the markings upon her hands that made her stand out… and her parents didn’t know what to think. They took her to specialists, psychologists… everything, but to no avail. Vylia was often made fun of by her peers, and thus when she was in first grade she left school to be tutored. She became extremely intelligent… studying many languages at a young age and other things. However.. when she reached the age of 9, she saw a figure outside of her window. It stared at her… having pale skin, but it was not nearly as shimmering or elegant as Vylia’s. The figure then disappeared… and ever since, occasionally Vylia sees shadows at night or during the day.

When Vylia reached age 13, her powers came. Her tail showed up, her ears showed up, and soon her wings even appeared. Her parents were thoroughly distraut… and not knowing what to do, they sent her to a special treatment center. (Basically a place that she would never come back from.) Vylia sensed this, and with an unseen swiftness she ran away. She ran away and came to New York City. It was there that she discovered her powers… and she had to buy new clothes. Dark, long-sleeved clothing and a cloak hide her oddities and generally kept her safe and unseen at night. However she soon ran into a kind young ‘man’. She later learned that it was a Navari, a very old and wise one. However… he told her that she should leave. He fed her, examined her hands… and then told her to leave. To either kill herself or leave… to get far away from the human race as possible. Vylia learned what she was… a Navari, a Cursed, but she learned that her symbols and appearance were the same that were in a Mythological Legend about the Cursed. It stated that, she was basically going to bring the downfall of the Cursed if she lived. (Unknowingly, another similar myth of the Nosferatu states that a Cursed of White will bring about destruction to their kind unless found and her powers weilded by their own darkness.) Vylia left the man… but because she refused to leave the city, they now hunt her. Both Nosferatu and the Cursed find her as a threat… and they want her dead. She now lives in complete fear for he rlife and is untrusting of anyone.
Abilities: Vylia’s powers are rather unknown so far. Although she does show oddities and is extremely fast and agile, she shows no physical strength or any other powers as of now. (Later to be revealed… and they have to do with the symbols upon her hands.)
Weapons: She has no weapons except a silver stake that the old Navari gave her as a pity gift.)
Other: Vylia has a tendency to get strange visions that make no sense for her.

Vylia Morai
~ Navari/ F / Nefertiti

Footsteps...
Darkness...

Vylia tore through the intertwined alleyways that ran through out the entire city. Her quick feet upon the ground only sent small sounds of pitter patter through the air, as she panted heavily. Her cloak seemed to billow about her legs as she ran... only a few strands of her silvery hair coming out from her hooded face. She was like a swift shadow... running through the night and the only sign that she was human were her delicate ivory hands that clung to her cloak's front.

Behind her... another shadow. This one more menacing then the other. It was of course, a Vampire... one with deep black hair, raging eyes of crimson and with an athletic figure bathed in black and blue. She was running from him... because he had wanted to make her a victim, thinking she only to be human, when he had caught a glimpse of her face.
"Silver eyes!" He had proclaimed... and then the recognition in his face was only an easy clue to her that he knew what, or rather, who she was.

So she ran... she had quickly whipped out her tail and had smacked him in the shin. The blow was sufficant enough to cause him to cry out in agony, and then give her a chance to run. However... he had been catching up to her, because she had been weakened later thatnight because she had to run from yet another Navari.

Of course... this was how it was for Vylia, every single night.

Panting her eyes scanned about hurriedly... trying to find a single solitary spot that she might rescue herself from being persued. It seemed bleak as she kept dodging into different alley ways, until suddenly she saw her opportunity. There was a hole... a strange, rather unnatural hole in the side of one of the old, run-down buildings. IT was rather rotted... boarded up, long ago betrayed by those who used to live in it. That was her spot... and that was where she'd hide. Turning a sharp corner, she instantly tucked and rolled into the hole. It had been hidden by a trash can, and swiftly she had taken her delicate hands and resituated the trash can so that hole was completely covered.

Silence.

She waited.. unbreathing although her lungs screamed to tell her to take a breath of fresh air. Her heart seemed to quicken in pace... but soon her mental capabilities told it to slow down, and thus it did so. Years of training to hide from vampires... and she was very good at it.
The figure ran... and slowly his footsteps grew louder, but then they began to fade. He stopped. Confused obviously that his victim had run away... but then he continued and his footsteps continued to farther away until they seemed to vanish.

She was safe for now. She knew he had gone... she sensed it, and the hair upon her neck was at ease once again. Withdrawing a huge breath, she quivered in the hole... it was most likely underneath the house, swarming with god only knows... but she was safe.

For now..



The Nosferatu:

Name: Zyrak AKA ‘Dark’ Velion
Age: 370
Gender: Male
Description: Zyrak is probably the ultimate image of beauty for a human male. His pale skin, strangely enough, is not hard nor flattened but beautiful and chiseled to perfection. His entire body is not skinny but well-built although he does have a simply graceful air about him. He stands at a rather tall yet not too tall height of 5’11. His hair is a deep, dark crimson-black color. It is cut short in a rather ‘fluffy’ way about his head… occasionally gelled to get a spiked look. It has a mixture of deep sable with a hint of crimson in some areas, while other areas are more crimson than others. His eyes are a dazzling deep, almost black-like blue, with a hint of sparkle flecks. He usually wears tight fitting dark pants of sable, with a regular cut-off sleeved crimson shirt. It exposes his abdomin slightly and his upper arms, but his figure is well defined to put off the look. About his body is a slightly long, almost leather-like jacket. It reaches down to about midway through his thighs and he always keeps the jacket open. A black tattoo symbol is apparent upon his right shoulder meaning, “Choosen”.
At will, he can summon black, dragon-like wings to form upon his back. Also, he has a black dragon-like tail that has the ability to form much like his wings. This is a defense or blending techinque he used so that he could blend into human places when he is on a mission. When he gives half of himself into his demon form, black tiger-like stripes appear upon his forearms, legs, shoulder blades and about his pectoral muscles. He also has claw-like feet slightly shaped like a tiger’s, and the same happens to his hands except they are human-like with tiger claws. Striped black, silver horns protrude from his hair as well. When he goes fully into his demon form, he takes the shape of a dragon creature that is completely crimson with black stripes.
Personality: Very sure of himself. He’s the Hard Blood son, so he was born a pure Nosferatu… not to mention that his father is considered an ‘Elder’ vampire who is extremely well known and very skilled. So naturally, Zyrak is also very confident and rather witty. He’s carefree and the type to joke about anything… and he almost gives off a charming air. However, it is a very decieving ploy. If you are his target or his enemy… he’ll be swift about it or he’ll play with his victims a bit more. When it comes down to doing what the Elders tell him to do, he’s good and does it right.
Breed: Tigris Draconis
History: Zyrak was born by two pure Nosferatu. In fact, his bloodline is entirely made of purebloods… no intermixings. Thus, he is highly respected by most that go with the Elder order. He is in fact almost ancient, but his father is even older (Relic is his father’s name, he's would be about 800 years or so old but he died.) His mother's name was Shariena, and although she was an Elder as well she was a bit wish-washy with Zyrak's father. (an affair(s) in other words.) Zyrak also has an older brother, and unlike his parents, his older brother is still alive but is about a hundred to two hundred years older than Zyrak. They're personalities are different as well... Zyrak being the more charming and playful type in hunts and life than his brother. They go about their seperate ways, and while they are not very 'close' they do not hate each other either.

In past years Zyrak spent most of his life remaining hidden in the shadows… but against his father’s orders a lot, he generally goes to explore the world. Thus he knows a lot about the world… and although he is supposed to remain ‘hidden’ he never really has although he hasn’t been caught or found out. Zyrak, when he wasn’t traveling, usually trains with fellow Nosferatu to become a swifter and more challengable opponent.
Weapons: Zyrak usually claims he needs no weapons, but he does carry a state-of-the-art silencer rifle with him. He also usually has a pair of double-sided daggers made out of pure diamond forged in ancient times. (They have a handle in the middle… and curved blades on each side of the handle.) Being made out of diamond, they are generally see-through.
Birth: He was born by pure Nosferatu.

Zyrak AKA ‘Dark’ Velion
~ Vampire / M / Tigris Draconis ~

Zyrak almost could have laughed if he willed himself to do it. All the vampires were hiding... either living in the slums or underground, away from humans and Navari alike. Zyrak... if he had been a 'good little boy' back when he was only 50 or 100, would have been one of them. Hiding and training underneath the ground with the rest of his kind... like rats in a sewer. He would have been like his brother... ruthless, dark, and utterly trapped in a world beneath the ground.

Zyrak had been different.

He was much like his mother... more aloof, more curious and coy. He was sly... and although he could by synical, most would think of him as a vampiric optimist. If there was such a thing however... Zyrak, at a young age of about 100 or so, didn't ever listen to his father. Instead he had escaped his underground prison and had explored the world. Despite his perhaps niave views, he had never been caught by either human or Navari. He rarely was spotted... and if he was, he either had killed the victim or left them so confused or dazed that they would never remember. The only ones who perhaps knew he was in the true outside would, would be perhaps his father's elder friends or perhaps... his brother.

Although his brother and Zyrak never communicated as of late, they really didn't care about what each other did even though they knew each other about as well as anything else they knew about themselves.
Standing on top of a building, Zyrak gazed down below at the world. He had come back to his home city... why? He wasn't exactly sure... but it was always a sickening and yet pleasureful feeling all at the same time. Glancing at the glittering buildings that were lower then the one he stood upon, he couldn't help but smirk. Such as city... teeming with both Navari, human, and vampire life. Despite how 'young' Zyrak might have been... he had learned and incredible amount of knowledge through his travels. He was probably more aware about the outside world and had so many different views and discoveries to make him smarter then at least three fourths of the Elderly Vampiric Counsel. Zyrak had always believed he was smarter than his father at least... the one who tried to decline his attempts to explore the outside would.
"Why must we hide... when we can play tricks like shadows? Fade and arrive much like the stars do at night, and merely glint away from side as the morning sun rises to be forgotten? It's easy... it's crafty, it's the only way to live. Not like rats behind the ground that grow old to only die with out a single worthy thought." Zyrak mused, as he shrugged lightly.
Whatever the night would bring.. he would find it. Like a succulent fruit... he would harvest the opportunities each night gave him and treasure them like valuable diamonds.

With a nod, Zyrak gave a slight bunch of his legs and then leaped onto the next building as swift as a lightning bolt across teh sky... yet as dark as an unnatural haze.

[PS100]

Name: Nyaka Shimiro

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Description: Nyaka hails from the Orient, and his physical appearance shows it. He is only about 5'9" and about 185 lbs, and appears frail to the average person. He is muscular, though it is a lean muscle, and can be mistaken by other Navari for a Nosferatu at first sight. He has black hair and dark brown eyes. Nyaka wears a typical gi, white with a blue sash, but also wears what appears to be an overlarge backpack. When the backpack is removed, it reveals his large, feathery wings, which stick through the upper half of his gi. His wings are the only outward sign of his demonic half; like birds of prey, he has extraordinary sight and hearing but lacks any sort of sense of smell. He also has the ability to process information given to him quickly and formulate a plan.

Personality: Nyaka is quiet and observing, and tends to be introvertive. He reveals very little about himself to his companions, although he enjoys their company. Although he can rush into dangerous situations, he also will look over his surroundings with his excellent eyesight before lowering his guard even a little. He is overly serious and does not usually appreciate a good joke.

Breed: Corvus

History: Nyaka was born to a poor family in Nagasaki, Japan, a quarter of a century ago. His family as dysfunctional, and Nyaka spent a lot of time at the local dojo. He became an avid swordsboy, and gained a lot of skill with swords and blades of all types. The sensei once told him that he would eventually become something great, no matter how humble his beginnings seemed, and that he should always remember those beginnings and the town that he hailed from.

Eventually, though, the darkness that had begun to engulf both America and Europe spread to Asia, and even young Nyaka noticed the change. The climax in Nagasaki was when both of Nyaka's parents were murdered by vampires when they stood against a band of the demons as the approached the town one night. Nyaka fled to the dojo, and never saw the Nosferatu again, however, and thought that the attack was a figment of his imagination at that maybe his parents had been killed by thieves. Contrary towards his negative feelings toward both his father and mother, he vowed revenge on demons of all types.

Puberty brought the most devastating blow to Nyaka, though; as his wings began to appear, the citizens of Nagasaki began to shun him. Even the dojo, which had comforted him when no one else would, turned its back on him. It became clear to Nyaka that Nagasaki was not where his fate lie, and he left with only a gi on his back and a katana in hand to find his fortune with others like him. He joined with one group that was headed to Britain, and when he arrived he promptly split ways with them. He has spent all time since honing his skills and slaying whatever vampires he comes across.

Abilities: Flight is Nyaka's major ability; he can cover huge distances quickly and is very agile in the air. Also, his strength and running/walking speed are enhanced, and his sight and hearing are many times better than that of humans. His obvious weaknesses are the lack of the sense of smell, the fact that his bones are hollow like a bird's and more easily snapped than a human's, and his decreased agility on the ground. His wings account for the latter.

Weapons: a katana, a kodachi, and several grenades


Nyaka

The wind seeped through my wings as I soared above the city, staring down at the people who were going about their daily lives with no idea that there was a demonic war going on right beneath their noses. It was cold, being that it was night, but it no much that I needed to land. It was dark, and being that I was part hawk demon and not part owl demon, I couldn't see well. I sighed, and flew towards a semi-abandoned building to land.

I hit the roof and bent my legs to absorb the shock of the landing, then stood. I looked around to make sure I was alone, the put on my backpack and moved towards the staircase door. In the corner of my eye, I saw something moving in the shadows... It was lithe, and I knew that whatever it was, it was out to do me harm.

I made sure my katana was where I could reach it, then becan to descend the stairs. It was a tall building, maybe 25 stories, and it would take a long while to walk downstairs. Being that I had huge wings on my back, though, it would have taken a long of explaining to be able to wade through a crowd right after landing from flight.

Suddenly, a human-like, hairy face appeared in the hair before me. I almost jumped, but then stared at it. The face was that of a Nosferatu, so i drew my blade and stoof my ground. "What do you want, foul demon?" I demanded.

"No need to be so anxious, Navari." the vampire said, dropping from the ceiling of the staircase and standing on the landing below me. "I come bearing a message for you. You are Nyaka, correct?"

"Yes." I said, glaring at him. "What message to you have?"

"Your parents say hello from hell." The demon laughed, then gained control of himself as he saw my face contort in rage. "Oh, I'm sorry, have I struck a nerve? Well then, Mr. Nagasaki, let me just say that they were a pleasure to sire, simply delightful people..."

Snapping, I jumped the final half-dozen stairs and slashed downward at him with my katana. He dodged easily, then brought his claws up at me. Ducking, I slashed, missed, and kicked him in the chest. He flew backwards and down the next flight of stairs, where he lay in a heap.

"Never insult my parents..." I growled, slowly coming down the stairs. "They may not have been the best, but..."

"Ahahaha!" the demon cackled, then choked. "Fool. Kill me and others come. There are always others..."

"What that is supposed to mean, i don't know, but I don't care, either." I said. I drove my katan through his chest, and he exploded into flame, then quickly died into ashes.

----------

I don't know why, but the fight with the bat-like Nosferatu had unsettled me. He spoke of my parent, which wasn't what had bothered me; his words of "Thre are always others" got me thinking. What if he was a high-ranking Nosferatu, and they would send a Carnivos after me...?

I shook my head, cleaing it of such thoughts. While I had never actually beaten a Carnivos, I hadn't died against one, either. I sighed. It had been a long day, and I needed some rest. I hopped in a taxi and went home to my apartment, read for sleep.

[Amethyst Flygon]

Name: Luken Rolf
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Description: Because of his Jharhin heritage, Luken has a tail, fur on most of his body except his head and hands, orange slitted eyes, curving claws, and a pair of ears at the top of his head that replace normal ears. His ears are constanly flicking around to follow noises and his tail lashes when he's thinking. His fur has the coloration of a Siamese cat.
In normal society, Luken works at a game, movie, and comic shop. He doesn't bother to hide his ears or claws because people just assume that he likes cosplaying. The tail is tucked in the pants and the eyes are disguised with contacts. Long sleeves and pants can hide the fur.
On the prowl, he wears a pair of black exercise pants, a form fitting black tshirt, and an all purpose bag that he stores stuff in. His shoes are white sneakers with a black zigzag down the sides.
Personality: Luken is very serious and almost a little aloof if he doesn't know you. Once in a group of friends, he's very outspoken and loves a good discussion. He is a little bit of an intellectual, but he likes to occasional do physical stuff. He's very concerned about the safety of innocents but he is willing to sacrifice them for the good of all if necessary.
Demon Breed: Siamese Jharhin
History: Luken was born to a well-off family. His mother was of the blood but it had skipped her. Luken was a nasty shock to his father and there was always a gap between them.
Luken was able to go to a normal school until seventh grade when a few other characteristics began to pop up. He was then tutored by his mother and he began to discuss issues on chat sites. His mother never explained the mission of the Navari to him very well, so he formed his moral code.
It was when he was seventeen that he had his first run-in with a Nosferatu. He had stumbled across it when it had been feeding. Before Luken could do anything, another Navari stepped in and destroyed it. It was from this Navari that he learned about the history of the Navari.
Now, Luken lives in a small apartment by himself and works at a game/comic/movie store. He gets rid of any Nosferatu in his area, but he doesn't have strong connections with other Navari.
Abilities: The has superb sight and hearing, but his sense of smell isn't much better than a human's. He's able to climb with relative ease and rarely takes damage from a fall. His tail adds a touch of balance and his claws can obviously be used for fighting.
Weapons: Luken has decided to go for the weak spots for hunting. He has a UV lamp that can hit about half a square foot and a spiked silver chain.
Other: He has an older cousin, Laurine Champ, that works within ISE. She was lead towards it when she saw him once at night but didn't recognize him. They weren't very close.

Luken Rolf:
"Why do I always get the night shift?" I complained when I finally left the store. "All the customers at that time are drunks and perverts, one even tugged my ears."
Deciding to do a little pest control before going to bed, I slunk home to my apartment, changed, and got my stuff. It would be stupid to go hunting without any protection. I even went through the trouble of checking my lamp to make sure it wasn't busted. It was a real fiasco the last time when it burnt out.
I ran towards my favorite spot on the top of a telephone pole and waited for some activity. I was starting to get bored when I saw something fly overhead. Whipping out my lamp, I pointed it at the figure. It shrieked and began to burn. "Heheh, a weak one. Looks like I'm lucky." I cheered while waving my tail like a banner.
I swept the ashes into a dumpster and headed towards the apartments. I saw another figure in the sky, but it went by too quickly. It was headed towards the nearby construction site, so I decided to investigate. It wouldn't be vary considerate of me to let innocents get killed because I was sleepy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Laurine Champ
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Description: She has tall, sandy blond hair, and shining green eyes. She likes to wear a white tshirt with navy blue pants.
Personality: Laurine is steady as a rock and hardly ever scared. Even while retreating, it is a planned tactical retreat and not one of fear and panic. She believes what she sees and is stubborn in her opinions.
Skills: Simply put, Laurine is an excellent strategist. She is able to direct forces well in the heat of battle while mantaining a safe distance.
Weapons: Laurine uses a taser that a friend gave her as a joke. It's able to temporarily stun an opponent, but mostly through surprise than power. When it comes to serious combat, she tends to run.
History: She lived a normal, happy childhood and worked in the police as a subchief. She did miserably while patrolling but she was very effective giving orders from headquarters.
One day while making her rounds, she stumbled across a dead body, a large ashy spot on the ground, and the sight of a cat-boy slipping away. This first encounter with the supernatural lead her eventually to the ISE where she has worked for the past year.
Reasons: They got her because she can analyze an enemy's possible weakness in battle and put it to good use.
Other: These took so looooong.....

She's sleeping right now, but I'll post for her later. I nedd to go to bed as well.

[Pichu Luver]

Name: Aysel Jackson
Age:18
Gender: F
Description: Unfortunately for Aysel she is so disfigured there is no way she could live a normal life in society. From the waist up she is mostly human looking, her skin tanned for all the time she spends outside. Her face has an honest look about it; you know only truthful and sincere words will come from her. She has piercing blue eyes that make it look like she’s seeing into your very soul, that without saying a word she understands. Her hair is a very dark grey, almost black and has a slight wave to it. She wears as her day-to-day clothes a white t-shirt, a blue camo tank top over it and a very soft light blue hoodie.

If your wondering why she has no pants its because the lower half of her is the full fledged body of a horse. Her coat is a silvery colour with a very light undercurrent of red. Her legs are black, fading back to the silver near the top. If you look close you can also make out striping along the top over her legs. Her tail is also a very dark grey colour. She also has some feathering around her hooves.

For fighting the Nosferatu she likes to wear a t-shirt that matches her coat colour with a black leather jacket over it. She also has a very long hooded cape that reaches to mid-back of her horse body, dark grey in colour. She also usually has supplies on her horse-back and human-back.
Personality: Aysel is very secretive and keeps mostly to herself, mostly because of her disfigurement but also because she he hates how most people are frightened of her. This has made her very shy and she can be hurt very easily though she doesn’t show it. She doesn’t talk very much and when she does its in a very soft voice. She is very caring and knowledgeable about cures and blacksmithing. She absolutely hates to fight but will defend those who have befriended her.
Demon Breed: Centaur
History: Aysel was born into an average middle-class Canadian family, her dad working for a big corporate company, and her mom was a teacher. Her mother had no idea about her demonic routes, that being told only to her brother, Daniel, as it was only supposed to be males that had the seed. Unfortunately the seed had not appeared for 5 generations and their father had told him that when it did show up there was a very large chance the boy would have some serious physical changes. So when Aysel’s older brother (Jacob) had been born Daniel had been very worried but he was a normal baby boy. Of course he’d have to wait until the boy reached puberty but he was fairly certain Jacob was normal. Unfortunately for Aysel he was right.

When she was born 2 years later Jacob immediately saw the seed was in her, even though it shouldn’t be. She had been born with a little tail and her legs resembled the forelegs of a horse more then they did a human, even though they weren’t furry. Her feet were normal also, if a bit small and missing three toes. Her parents and the doctors had been shocked. However they thankfully all thought it was just a serious malformation. Aysel’s parents didn’t want a malformed daughter that would cost huge medical bills to care for so Daniel took her in, knowing her for what she was. He took her back to Britain soon after she was released from hospital.

She grew up as normally as was possible, even going to school. Her uncle lived on a farm so she got quite acquainted with a lot of animals, though she loved horses. Along with the schoolwork however she was taught the basics of most weapons, though she specialized in bow and arrow, sniper gun, and two long knives. She was also taught how to heal, learning how to cure almost everything, or at least stave off the disease (some of which she knew didn’t exist but she learned it anyway). Lastly he taught her blacksmithing, how to make swords, bows and arrows, horseshoes. Anything that has metal in it she can do. When she was 13 he told her everything that he knew about the Nosferatu and Navari. He also told her demon sides past, and the changes that might happen, though he hoped it didn’t. She asked why it wasn’t her brother and he wasn’t sure but he supposed that there had to be some female centaurs, though very few, for the demons to reproduce themselves. The males went off to fight and females were more passive.

A year later she began to get extreme lower back pain. They both knew what was happening and Daniel took her out of school, saying she was going to have surgery for her deformities, ironic how they were getting worse. It took two months for her body to change and during that time she passed out many times from pain, not to mention that by the end she was very thin for not being able to eat. The one good thing was now she could eat anything a human could eat and get nutrition out of what a horse could eat. Meaning she could survive on grass. She now lives on a very secluded farm with her uncle, not talking with the other Navari much. She has become a very successful horse trainer, with her uncle selling the horses she trains. Her horses are always praised for their responsiveness, colour, confirmation and being bombproof.
Abilities: She is very fast and can carry very heavy loads. She is also very strong and if she gets a good hit in with her hooves, she can shatter bones. She has above average eyesight, hearing and smell but not anything over the top. She excels in long-range weapons.
Weapons: She has hoof caps that are spiked for added damage. She usually carries her re-curve bow with silver tipped arrows. She also puts on a layer of garlic for added annoyance and pain. She has two long knives that are slightly curved. She carries them on her back. However she usually doesn’t fight if she can avoid it, more of a supplier of weaponry. (i.e. bullets, new swords, arrows)
Other: The first attachment is Aysel's coat colour and the second I just thought was freaky.

Aysel Jackson
~~~~~~~~~~

A shadow among shadows was all she was. Watching always watching, never involved. Well, that’s how she preferred it. She didn’t always get her way, but tonight was rather calm. Ironic how one description for it could be dead, being that was what she was watching for. Well . . . in a way that was what she was looking for.

The silence made for great hearing so when she heard the rustling of wings she immediately pinpointed it and saw what looked to be a giant bird taking off. She knew him for what he was and let him be, he had less patience then her. She had already been here for at least a couple of hours. She didn’t blame him this was usually a hot spot, being that all the drug-attics and other such people hung out here. Tonight though they had all been smart and stayed in whatever they called home, well except for those drunks, who had almost completely ‘killed’ the ‘bear’ now.

Aysel knew she shouldn’t have compassion for people who appeared to have so little they didn’t even care about their own body. She couldn’t help it though; if they tried they might make a better life for themselves, well at least for whatever time they may have left of a life if the coming war went ill.

Oh yes she knew a war was brewing and she wanted nothing to do with it. But, being what she was she knew she had no choice in the matter. She did one final scan of the park, the drunks now wobbled away and backed out of the bush and tree hideout.

She walked carefully along the narrow bike path, always listening, watching and even smelling at odd intervals. She avoided violence when she could but she wasn’t a coward when it finally came down to fighting. She came to the edge of the forest and about twenty feet away a fence barred her path. It had a small alleyway out of the city on the other side and she had jumped it often.

She did a final check of her surroundings; she had been ambushed her once and twice more they had tried to get her but obviously failed. All was clear and she lunched herself into a gallop, clearing the chain-mail fence with ease. Flagging and swishing her tail in a little bit of childish glee, she loved to jump.

She didn’t slow down at all and twisted her way through the alleyway with practiced ease. She fixed her hood as it began to fall down and allowed herself to smile. She was almost free from this fear-ridden city. Well fear of her anyway, except the kids, they were never afraid of her. The ones that had spotted her anyway; she liked kids they reminded her of her happier, carefree days.

She heard a swish from above and knew what it was. She gave a small sigh and concentrated on the sound of its wings, preparing her body in small ways. Just as it was about to land on her she lowered her human half and unleashed a massive buck.

She heard it screech in pain as she connected and she skidded to a halt. She pivoted and cocked her bow with an arrow. She saw it withering in pain on the ground, its wing and leg broken; more then likely throbbing in pain form her silver-coated horseshoes. It looked up at her and she unleashed her arrow, hitting it square between the eyes. It made a final horrible shriek and burned into a pill of ashes.

She shook her head and stared sadly at the pill of ashes. ‘Do they have no goodness left in them?’ she thought and continued her journey. The rest of her gallop home was uneventful and she was glad when she finally reached it, just as the first greys of morning were colouring the eastern sky.

‘Safe for another day.’ She thought and slowed as she reached the front door. She stepped inside, and smiled at her home. Daniel had always made sure she was comfortable, even renovating the house when she had changed. Making everything larger and the stairs useable for her.

She walked through the living room (with a squashy mattress for a couch) and down the hall into her bedroom. It was much larger then usual and had a large bed right on the floor. She changed into her p-jays, glancing at the clock (5:27am) and fell into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[SneaselReborned]

Name: Syir (pronounced seer)
Age: 150
Gender: M
Description: about 6'5" tall, icy blue eyes, black hair, very muscular, usually wears a brown shirt with a black vest, both are fitted with slots for his wings, usually wears thick black pants, sometimes wears hard leather armor atop his vest
Personality: must...feed...blood....its all about himself: he kills, he drinks blood, he goes on, end of story, new day, repeat, over and over, has some interesting thoughts about the "need to kill"
Breed: Desmodus
History: kills in the night, feasts, and then rests during the day. sometimes uses contacts to get sums of money in exchange for assassinations, and always passes on his demon seed by making his slain enemies drink his blood
Weapons: enormous blade (think Inuyasha) slung over his back, gauntlets with prodruding spikes, and sharpened wing guards for cuttiing enemies
Birth: after joining a secret cult, he was sacrificed, and the unspeakable horrors inflicted onto him turned him into a vampire along with the sight of a lone bat, watching him being tormented

[color=lightblue]

Syir -=- M -=- Nosferatu

Syir stalked slowly along the abandoned Subway Tracks. The deep ruts into the concrete had not been used for over a decade, leaving the entire complex a plethora of underground life. Before the Nosferatu moved in, the old subway station had been a center of black market trading of cocaine and marijuana. Of course, the old dealers had to be...dealt with, before the Nosferatu could be completely safe within their new hideout. Syir smirked, remembering the absolute terror on the haggard old men's faces while they watched their comrades being ruthlessly slain, knowing that in a moment they too would fall to the same fate.

Syir looked up, and saw what he was looking for. A small vent, situated high in the ceiling, aparently going to nowhere. While the small Rattus Nosferatus could stick to the ground, Syir knew that he was destined for more. Flexing his wings for a moment, Syir leaped into the air, winging softly up to the vent. With razor sharp claws, he pried open the small vent door, and folded up his wings. Crawling into the vent and making his way up, Syir replaced the vent door behind him, so that nobody would be able to find his race's domus, like a Human home. After a minute or so of crawling up into the vent, Syir felt cold steel touch his head. He shuddered at the thought of the coldness...almost like silver. He shook the unpleasant thought from his mind, and pushed up this next trap door. Emerging from the tiny vent, he smiled, looking around. This was his place. Almost like a gigantic cavern, the domus of the Desmodus was very spacious, allowing room to fly around, and at the very top rows and rows of metal pipes hung, perfect for sleeping.

Syir sighed, and winged into the air once more, flying down the rows of sleeping Desmodus vampir, finally coming to a spot where he could rest. He clutched the long metal bar with powerful talons, and swung downwards, now completely upside down, and closed his eyes. He slowly popped one eye open, and drifted into a deep sleep.

[kalad1]

Name: Dennis Loray
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Description: About 5'9", he's a bit lanky yet has a slightly muscled look to his body, his hair is pure black, and his eyes are an icy, haunting blue. He usually wears blue jeans and a black T-shirt. In battle, these usually end up torn to shreads due to his unusual abilities.
Personality: Inwardly, he is a kind and caring person, as well as having a burning hatred for the vampires and the ISE(he doesn't know exactly WHO they are, but he knows they're out there), outwardly, he is cold and efficient, never talking more than necessary and ignoring frivolous activities.
Demon Breed: Korotala-This breed of demon is an elite warrior among demons, a general of armies. They are know for their fierce abilities on the battlefield, for they shun forge-born weapons and armor and instead make their own from their flesh, blood, and power, their appearance is fairly lanky and slightly elven when outside of their intimidating armor.
History: Born to Navari parents, who were one of the few of the Korotala breed along with his older brother, Adam, he had a fairly good childhood, despite the fact he was trained in martial arts and swordsplay, most seemed normal. All this was ruined on the night of his thirteenth birthday, for the ISE had, thanks to the blatherings of his mother's drunkard human sister, learned that they weren't normal and a slightly radical group of them burst in that night and tried to take them in for god knows what kinds of purposes, His parents forced him and his brother to flee that night as they held them off. After wandering about for roughly a month, surviving on scraps and stolen or begged food, he and his brother were finally found by their uncle and given a home.
Years passed and his uncle took it upon himself to prepare and teach Dennis and Adam for their future role, on the day that Adam turned 16, armor burst from various parts of his body and a sword burst forth as well. A week later, he disappeared. Years passed further and Dennis turned 16 and underwent his own change, but his armor included a face mask and a partial helm, unlike his brother's. When he was 18, his uncle died at the hands of vampires who had caught him off guard. From that day on, he's used the money he wasleft by both his parents and his uncle to fuel his personal war on the vampires, and any ISE agents he may become aware of.
Abilities: He has enhanced speed and strength, making most weapons and forms of armor very light to him, as well as allowing him to move with great speed when he needs to.
His true power lies in his ability to make crimson armor the moment he needs it and spawn a sword in a similar manner. The armor only appears on his head, chest and arms as well as four plates on the front of his legs, the left are being covered in a thicker shield gauntlet, while his right is covered in light armor for mobility and control. The face mask is a blank oval covering his face, showing only his eyes. His sword is a crimson, four foot long serpentine blade with various scrolling patterns carved into it, it's extremely strong and sharp, outdoing the materials of normal weapons. The armor and sword are reabsorbed by his body when they are not in use.
He is also able to jump distances greater than that of a human, like 50 foot jumps.
Weapons: He only carries a small handgun, for if he's attacked by a normal human mugger or such, he needs no more.
Other:The last report of someone who looked like his brother was at the slaying of another Nevari.

Dennis
_________________________________________________
I glanced at the ash that was left from my most recent kill, most were weak compared to me. Most were ill prepared too, being taken off guard when I suddenly spawned my armor and sword. This one, however, had been different, not only was it a challenge, but it had obviously been taken off guard for another reason, it had apparently mistaken me for someone else. Leaving these thoughts alone for the moment, I walked out of the alley I had encountered the bastard in and started seeking further enemies to slaughter.

It wasn't long before I had my wish, encountering the sickening sight of a Rattus feeding on some poor little girl, he was so absorbed in the activity, that he didn't notice me walking up behind him, and had barely noticed me just as my sword cleaved him in half, in addition to the girl, who I could tell was going to die anyways, at least this was far quicker than being drained. I watched with grim satisfaction mixed with elation as the vampire died, turning to ash. I checked the time in a nearby store window that had a clock and decided to get home, even with my inhuman nature, I still needed rest.

[Tainted]

Name: Zedrick von Ulrich (referred to as simply: Zed).

Age: One-hundred-eleven by age, early thirties by eye.

Gender: Male.

Description: 6’11, nearly three hundred pounds, Zedrick carries a build that is definitely not fat, just solid. Muscled heavily on every inch of his body he is a physical specimen to behold. He has extremely pale skin and ice blue eyes that could freeze a man in his steps. A heavy brow holds up sharply angled black eyebrows that are of medium thickness. His cheekbones are sharp and prominent, and that coupled with a chiseled jaw make him look quite intimidating. Zedrick wears black jeans and large black boots. Both of his entire arms are covered in tribal looking tattoos, of which are wickedly hooked and give off an impression of evil. His chest is covered with black flames that reach down to encircle the word ‘broken’ tattooed on his stomach. On his back, the cross burns in black flames to show his protest of anything godly. His nose, in between his eyes, is pierced, along with the space between his chin and lip. Zedrick most often walks around bare-chested—but occasionally he dons an old black leather jacket that his father used to wear, and inside of this jacket is where he keeps his two weapons. His hair is black and of medium length, having black bangs that hang over his eyes.

Personality: Zedrick is the epitome of a raging schizophrenic. He is both peaceful and reckless at the same time. One second he can be chatting about his personal philosophies, and the next he could be savagely killing several humans in a lustful craving for blood. He is very protecting of his friends, and although somewhat blunt and stupid, he can sometimes point out helpful things that no one else could’ve thought of. When he kills victims for blood, he leaves no waste—eating them in entirety, bones and all. Because of this he often criticizes other Nosferatu that drain only the blood. Zedrick has a very rough Russian accent, making him seem near stupid when he speaks English.

Breed: Carnivros.

History: Zedrick’s father was a seldom known Nosferatu with a keen eye and an even quicker hand, and he went by call of Elexand. His mother, also a hard-blooded vampire, Gabriella, met Elexand while they were feeding. From then on, the two of them were together for hunting purposes only—and it took a couple hundred years until it was so much more than that. Zedrick was born several years before 1900.

Zedrick grew up with little in terms of parental rule, basically raising himself. This built a strong resentment for his parents deep inside of him. They often did not include him in hunts, for what they saw were good intentions, as they didn’t want him to get hurt. However, this eventually lead to one dark day only thirty years after Zedrick had been born where he devoured both of his parents. After this his life picked up, and he lived throughout his years lonely—growing very large, and very gruesome. Few even attempted to make friends with him, so Zedrick resulted to making friends with animals. So here, we had a man of immense stature, a Nosferatu known for slaughtering hundreds: talking to a sparrow on his shoulder. Zedrick near defined the peaks of irony at this point in his life, and reached a new spiritual point of view. He became a big softie for a short duration of his life, until he found that he was cursed—for as much as he tried to resist killing for blood, he could not, as it was killing himself in the long run. At this point he abandoned those he once knew as his only friends and moved on to being lonely again.

So now, Zedrick is the typical large hulking brute that can be described most often as a big softie—prone, of course, to random and seemingly illogical killing streaks on cravings for blood. When angered he is a force to be reckoned with even more so when he’s not, and is known to be almost blind with rage when angered enough.

Weapons: Although rarely used, he carries in his jacket:
- A standard Beretta, fifteen shot clip, silenced.
- A sawed off shotgun.

Birth: Produced naturally as offspring from two hard bloods.

---

-=(Zedrick von Ulrich)=-
//^--//-==-/o+o\-==-\\--^\\

Not many dare walk the streets at such an hour—an hour when the night is beginning to dwindle for partygoers, but also an hour where the night has only begun for us. I leisurely stalked down the empty roads, viewing my surroundings with ice-blue eyes almost seven feet from the pavement below. My skin was so pale it nearly radiated—which was a sign that I needed to feed. This skin of mine had always been pale, but it became translucent when I hadn’t fed in a while.
I stopped at a street corner and looked down at my heavy black boots, which met a pair of black jeans that were all too familiar to myself. I was shirtless, even at such an hour—I had left the only jacket I owned back underground in the old subway station that I lived in. It was a nice leather jacket, but an old one, having used to grace my father’s shoulders. That was where I kept the only weapons I had, a standard fifteen-shot Beretta and a sawed off shotgun.

“Nice tattoos, man!” I heard the murmur stumble from drunken lips. “I got one too!” The drunken male proceeded to roll up his left sleeve and show off a small M inked into his skin. I wasn’t one to brag about my tattoos, but they had become a part of my body. The tribal-looking black designs covered my entire arms, hooked and sharpened wickedly. My chest was covered in black flames that reached down to encircle the word ‘broken’ inked on my stomach. My back, too, was covered in black flames—but they were apparent on a large cross, to show an absence of anything godly in me.
I rubbed the front of my chiseled jaw, just below the piercing that I had between my chin and lip. I had another one too, up on my nose between my eyes. I didn’t respond to the drunk who had pointed out that, yes, my body was in fact tattooed.
Oddly enough, he was alone, too. This led me to believe that he was either one of those lonely drunks, or he was trying to walk home after he failed to insert a key into his death machine. Ah, drunks, don’t we all love them?

I looked at him squarely, through the black bangs that hung over my eyes.
“You look drunk, comrade,” I spoke with a heavy Russian accent. The accent necessarily wasn’t my fault as I was born in Russia.
“Nah,” he replied plainly.
“No, friend, come with me into this alley—I’ll offer you hospitality.”
The drunk looked ecstatic, “Well, thanks.”

So, I lead him into the alleyway, not like I needed any cover from the rest of the nothing that was outside at this time.
“You’re a good guy, what’s your name?”
“Hm, that’s not of importance,” I replied, “What’s yours?”
“Mike!”
I chuckled, “Ah, Mike. Do you mind if I call you dinner?”
“Why would you call me that?” He too chuckled, perhaps unaware of his fate.
That was when I lunged at him. I cleanly bit a chunk of flesh from his neck, sinking my teeth past his skin and biting into raw meat. He never even had a chance to yell out in pain. I took my time eating him; instead of draining his blood I just devoured him, bones and all. It was a lengthy meal, but definitely a much-needed one. After this I retired to the streets and began walking my way to the old underground subway stations with a bloodstained grin upon my face.

[VirtualPlay]

W00T!

|| Name: Mike Rampart
|| Age: 21
|| Gender: Male
|| Description: His body is pretty much humanoid in appearance. However, his eyes are dark and beady, his feet are actually talons, and he has huge black wings on his back (when folded up, they still reach down to below his knees). His hair is also pitch-black, and his nose is rather pointy, although not to an extreme where people would see it as abnormal. He is rather muscular, having worked out for most of his life.
~ For clothes, he never wears a normal shirt, because nothing would fit him with those huge wings sticking out of his back. His pants are black jeans, loose enough that they are easy to move around in. He also has under his pants a pair of spandex shorts (that go to his knees), should he need to gain extra mobility. He has a pair of black sneakers that have been shaped to hold his taloned feet yet still look like he has normal human feet. Over all of this, he wears a long black trench-coat that goes all the way down to his ankles (thus covering his wings). He sheds the coat and sneakers when he goes into "fight mode" so that his wings are accessible. Oh, and he also wears a pair of sunglasses over his eyes (even in the dark) so nobody can see his beady eyes (he takes these off as well when he fights).
|| Personality: Despite his fearsome appearance, Mike is a kind one at heart…as long as you're on his side. He's very friendly at first meeting, but always has a wary air around him. However, if you do manage to get on his bad side, you probably won't live long enough to figure it out. Unless of course, you're just a plain human, in which case he'll give you a good scaring and never want to meet you again.
|| Demon Breed: Part-Corvus
|| History: He was born to two pure Navari, and therefore is one himself. He always had his taloned feet and beady eyes, but his wings didn't start to grow in until he was about 5. Growing up with Navari parents, he actually grew up a happy life with his parents (part-Jharhin mother, part-Draconis father), since they didn't see him as a freak (he was also home-schooled). He learned early on about the Navari-Nosferatu relationship, and was trained from an early age to be a good fighter.
He was seven when his sister was born, and was curious as to why she wasn't a part-Corvus like him. Even still, he loved her and cared about her like a good brother. As she grew up, he also helped his parents to train her, even as they also trained him.
When he was 18, however, his happy life changed. His parents went out for an arranged attack on some Nosferatu…and they never came back. No bodies were ever found, and no answers were ever figured out about what happened to them. Mike hurriedly got a job as a server manager, so that he wouldn't have to go out and meet people often, but it paid well enough for him to keep the house and everything.
|| Abilities: Obviously, with his wings he can fly, and his eyes, like a hawk's, have incredible distance sight…although it doesn't help if there's very little light.
|| Weapons: *digs up an old drawing* His trench-coat hides more than just his wings; underneath he also hides his weapon, a swallow. (If you havent figured it out yet, he doesn't sit in chairs/benches/etc. that have backs on them; his wings and weapon don't exactly fold like his legs.) He also has two small daggers (slightly curved blades that are no longer than his fingers) that are pure silver blades and hide easily in his wings.
|| Other: Kathy is his younger sister.

-- Name: Kathy Rampart
-- Age: 14 (don't worry, I got a good plot thingy)
-- Gender: Female
-- Description: She is average height and build for a girl her age. Her skin is a slightly pale golden color…well, the skin you can see. Most of her body is covered in a golden fur (from just below her neck to just shy of her wrists and ankles), the hairs being about an inch long. Her head hair is a reddish brown, and goes down to her shoulders. It always curls around her face to make it look like she has a mane on her head, although she can pull it up if need be. Her hair does not grow any longer than that, and cutting it any shorter will make it grow out that long again literally overnight. Her eyes are a bright green color, and they are slits like a cat's. Her nose is flatter than average, and her lips are thinner too, though neither are really noticeable. Her knees are perfectly double jointed, although they can lock one way or the other.
For clothes…well, since she skipped a couple grades and is now in high school, when she goes to school she wears the school's uniform (she wanted to go to a private school), which consists of: a white long-sleeve blouse (she buttons the top button), a black pleated knee-skirt, gold tights or stockings (school colors are gold and white), and black shoes (y'know, like this one). She also wears fake glasses which draw people's attention away from her eyes. For fighting, if she gets a chance to change, she wears what looks like a full-body soft black leather suit. However, it's really four parts: pullover jacket, pants, footwear, and gloves. All of this is skin-tight, and surprisingly warm despite what it looks like. And no, she does not wear little kitty ears or a mask.
-- Personality: If you meet her at any normal time, she seems like your average teenage girl: bright, happy, friendly, occasionally ditzy, etc. She'll easily make friends with you if you're willing, and is rarely cold towards people. However, get on her bad side and her "cat-titude" shows through, often resulting in a "cat fight" if it's another girl that gets on her nerves (sorry, the puns were there…).
-- Demon Breed: Part-Sphinx
-- History: Kathy has always shown her Nevari qualities, as she comes from a long line of pure-blood Nevari. Apparently, something about the pureness causes the changes to happen before birth, although nobody's completely sure about how it works.
She grew up in a double life, in a way. She went to a normal school, since as long as her body was covered enough she looked human enough to pass. She was smarter than average, as she skipped first grade to go on to second, then later skipped fourth grade to go into fifth. However, at home she was trained to fight well in the secret battle between Nevari and Nosferatu. Her happy life ended when she was 11, though (see Mike's History).
Now a sophomore in a private high school (which will remain unnamed for now), she looks around, anxious to fit in (which she does fairly well), but also to see if there are any other Novari showing up suddenly.
-- Abilities: When she locks her knees backwards, she can run at incredible speeds like any of the large cats, however she's fast enough to even dodge bullets (though just barely at this point). Her eyes are slightly better at seeing than human eyes normally, although at night she can see incredibly well with the feline "night vision" eyes. Her nails are like a cat's in a way: she can change the shape of them so that they're either normal (normal like a human) or razor sharp; she can even lengthen and shape them so that they're practically spears. As a part-Sphinx, she also gets the powers of seduction, although since she's still young her "seducing" is more like an "I'm cute, do what I want" kind of thing.
-- Weapons: Well, her hands are weapons for one thing, but besides that she has a silver-bladed katana, as well as a regular steel katana. Both of these are in a pair of sheaths on her back attached to a strap that goes diagonally across her torso. She only uses one at a time, however.
-- Other: Mike is her older brother.

----------

Mike
~~~~~~~~
Night. The perfect time to go hunting Nosferatu. They only came out at night anyway. Plus the cover of dark keeps people from seeing who I was. Or what I was. The perfect time to…

"Hi, onii-chan!" a small girlish voice said practically in my ear. I turned around to see my younger sister, hanging upside down on a pipe on the outside of the building I was standing on. I couldn't help but smile. Not only was my sister extremely smart, she was also really fun to be around. Plus she calls me "onii-chan," which is an affectionate Japanese term for one's older brother. (Yeah, she's into all that Japanese hype too.)

If anyone else had done that, I would have yelled at them for being irresponsible and unhelpful. But I couldn't do that with Kathy, not only because she was my sister, but because I really did care for her. She was the only family I had that was still living.

"Having fun?" I commented lightly, and she nodded, her reddish hair flying around everywhere. "Well, think you could put your eyes to some good use? If there's one thing I hate about darkness—and believe me, there is only one thing—it's the fact that even I can't see very well."

Kathy let go of the pipe and flipped herself over as she fell, landing (naturally) on all fours. Immediately I got a little more serious. "Okay, now I can see that there's a chase going on down there, but I can't see who's who. Can you tell?"

She stared hard, but said, "No, too far away. I can see their movements plain as day, but no detail at all." I sighed; we'd have to get closer if we were going to get any useful information.

"Okay, let's get down there." I looked at her, "Do you want a ride or do you think you can find footholds all the way down?" She walked to the edge of the roof, looked down, then turned around and jumped onto my mostly-bare back (my swallow was there, but she shifted herself around it). "You could have at least warned me," I said, but I couldn't help smiling at her hyperactivity.

Focusing on the small movement we both were seeing, I pushed out my wings to their full wingspan. I flapped once, then jumped slightly, testing my wings and adjusting how I was going to fly based on Kathy's weight. "Hey, did you gain weight?" I said teasingly, noticing only a couple pounds' worth of difference from the last time I transported her.

"Well I did have that last slice of cheesecake before we went out tonight," she admitted, and I could tell she was smiling even though I couldn't see her face. Looking down at the few lights that were left on this late, I plotted a path between all of them before jumping over the edge of the building.
~~~~~~~~

Kathy
~~~~~~~~
I sat on my onii-chan's back as he flew us down towards the chase we had seen earlier. As we got closer, I could see the details better. The chaser was obviously a Nosferatu, black hair and a scraggly build that still moved fast. I was more interested in the 'chasee' he was following. Pale hair, pale skin, and a slight protruding out her back under the cloak she wore.

"Looks like we have a Nosferatu chasing a Novari," I said excitedly. It had been a while since we had found a new Novari. I watched as she turned another corner and suddenly ducked into a hole in a building, moving a trash can in front of the hole. "You saw her go in that hole, right?" I asked Mike.

"Yeah, hard to miss when we're only about 50 feet above them," Mike said. "Now do you want to take care of our little black friend over there or do you want to say hello to Miss Novari down there?"

"I've got blackie," I said. I looked at the buildings and said, "Jumping off now," before launching myself onto the roof of the building that the Nosferatu was passing. I looked down as he hesitated, then moved on. I followed as he turned another corner. This was a one-way-around alley, which meant he could only turn left around the next corner. I jumped down on the other side of that corner, grabbing a white blanket off of one of the clotheslines as I fell.

When blackie came around the corner, he saw what he thought was a cute little girl wearing a white cloak and seemingly lost in the alley. "Oh!" I said with believable surprise. "I-I'm sorry, I got lost and-and I don't know where I am. C-can you help me?" I looked up at him with an irresistibly cute face.

He smiled, and I noticed it wasn't a nice smile. "Sure, I can…help you…" he said, and I saw the glint in his eyes. Then, faster than a human could react, he dove at me.

But I wasn't exactly human. As soon as he moved, I jumped up high, shedding the white cloth. With lightning speed, I whipped out the silver katana on my back as his head got tangled in the cloth. He fell face down, and I landed on top of him, driving the katana through his heart.

"And another one bites the dust," I said, walking away from the pile of ash that the Nosferatu had become. Reversing my knees again, I sped off down the alleys towards where I had seen the other woman hide.
~~~~~~~~

Kalah: Mike and Kathy are going to try and talk to Vylia, but neither of them know about the "legend" of her history so they won't recognize the symbols or anything.

[Krystalline Kabutops]

Soluun
\~V~/

I had been asleep for about ten minutes when I caught movement in the shadows. The glint of metal revealed that the being was armed. Remaining still, I inched my had towards my waist, in hopes of getting my knife. How had it gotten up here? It certainly wasn't human, unless it had been waiting for quite some time. That meant that it was either Nosferatu, or Navari.

Eliminating the latter, I decided it was time to act. Pulling my knife out of its sheath, I jumped up and threw it at the figure. At the same time, it launched something shiny at me. I jumped up, clamping my hands onto a beam. The spike whistled past my feet, and lodged itself in the plywood. I looked to where the figure had been, but all I saw was my knife lodged in the plywood, like the figure's spike. Hopping back down to the floor, I crouched, looking all around. The Nosferatu was nowhere to be seen.

I heard a clack, and looked up. I was greeted by a bright white beam of UV light. Growling, I lunged upward towards the source. I landed on a beam, clutching thin air. I rubbed furiously at my eyes, trying to get the dancing lights out of my vision. From behind me, I heard a voice. "You're not a Nosferatu, are you?" It asked. Still having trouble seeing, I replied "Is that what you thought I was? Next time, get a closer look at your prey before you start throwing things."

I hopped down to the floor, and what I now realized was a Navari followed suit. In the little light that the moon gave off, I recognized it as a male Jharhin. We eyed each other up and down for a moment, and then shook claws as we introduced ourselves. "Soluun." "Luken."


OOC: 'Tis all yours, AF.

[Ultimate Charizard]

Name: ~ Keruga V'yorn (Gav to the General Public)
Age: 21 by appearance (Closer to 70)
Gender: ~ Male
Description: Stands just over 6ft tall, Brown Hair, Blue Eyes. Likes to wear a Black t-Shirt, Blue jeans, ripped off at the knees with Knee/Shin Guards running down to Black Boots. Wears Black Fingerless gloves and a Black trenchcoat over the lot.
Personality: ~ Kind of relaxed. Likes a joke, likes company and besides Vampires is tolerant of all other species. Fully aware of his role but also has a normal job, and a normal life and home which gives him a little more insight into the Human lifestyle that he segregated himself from for so long. Loves TV and is sometimes known to Quote random lines he likes in the middle of a fight. Sometimes overdramatic and although its not obvious is very mentally Disciplined.
Demon Breed: Jharin
History: ~ Although he is classed as A cursed his true roots are in a small group of True demon descendants known as the Ferans, living in the More Rural areas of England. Staying away from humans theyre sightings have led to some legends such as 'the Beast of Bodmin Moore' a large cat that stalks to moors and even the 'Hound of the Baskervilles' was inspired by a Feran Sighting. They are the pure demon alternatives to the Cursed Jharhin. Exiled from the Clan at a young age after wanting to get involved in the Cursed/Vampire battles while the other Demons simply wanted to get on with their lives. Travelled the world for a while, learning languages and cultures and also Fighting styles. Has now combined the Feran style with a number of Human styles and has taken to combat naturally. The hunt for Vampires eventually led him back to England but he sticks to the cities, avoiding the Rural areas.
Abilities: All Ferans have the Ability to appear totally human however it is a disguise. When they change it is as if their body has generated a human suit. The flesh ripping, with fur and Muscle pushing through, muffled snaps and crunches as Bones realign. His clothes remain on, they are not damaged by the change, although sometimes look out of proportion (t-shirt a little tighter, shorts only come to the knee instead of shin) It all takes a moment and is painless however can be unsettling for those that witness it. In Feran form he stands just short of 7ft and looks much more muscular however he is no that strong. Stronger than a human but not much in comparison to other demons. His main focus is Speed and Agility which obviously comes Naturally however with his training has tried to take it to another level. Stealth is another natural ability. Fur colour is Black along the Back, and Grey on the undersides (ie chest, Muzzle)
Weapons: Has natural Claws in Demon form but also Carries a Japanese style, folded Steel Katana and a Semi automatic Assault Pistol (Looks like the Lawmaster from Judge Dredd)
Other: ~ Feran Bone is Lethal to Younger Vampires, as are the Claws. Old vampires are still affected but have built up a Resistance. (Think how some Older Vampires can Ignore/Hold Crosses etc). Also Ferans have to try and Stay in control of 'Dark Emotions'. Extreme Anger or Emotional Pain can trigger the 'Forbidden Transformation'. As all Ferans can Become human in appearance they can also go the other way, becoming much larger and more Feral. Phenominally stronger and more violent In this state they lose thier rational mind and become a litteral engine of Death and Destruction, slaughtering anything in their path, friend or Foe alike.

-------------------------------------

Keruga
-------

Learning of the old ways back in the Clan had taught me alot, about the past, the way things really were and just how much influence that demonkind had made on the world. Humans were very much insignificant and alot of the time used by the Demon races, seen as a lower class of life, untill of course they became dominant. You had to give them credit though, they were resourcefull and had wonderfull imaginations. While the Demon clans still lived in Caves and sat round campfires they built huts, which grew into houses and eventually Skyscrapers. Instead of trekking for miles across land on long journeys that required supplies, they make the same journeys in mere hours as they developed transportation, they lived longer these days through advanced medicine and of course the most Important thing of all....T.V!
Laughing as i sat watching one of my favourite shows in my comfortable appartment, eating the chicken i had just cooked. No more raw rat, in a leaky cave for me.
The show i was watching was a classic, comedy Sci fi that, although was dated was still funnier than most of the new stuff. One of the lead charachters interested me. Apparently the result of the Cat race after evolving for 3 million years. He was a Vain, self obsessed idiot, refusing to go on a Space Walk because his space suit didnt have a Matching Lapel and cuffs to go with his Boots. Basically playing the Role of a house cat in human form. The costume and make up he was wearing however made him look more like a Vampire. It was strange to see this Human version of how i could possibly have been.
Looking at the clock i figured it would be best to go have a quick patrol. I usually kept this as my night off but as the show ended i found myself bored. Grabbing my weapons i headed to the door and moved out into the Hallway.
"DUDE!!!" i heard coming from behind me, i could also smell the guys breath and instantly knew who it was. "Hey Phil" i called back..."so what you guys been on tonight?"
I turned to see Phil, the guy that lived across the hall. Biggest Stoner i had ever met. Every night the smell of assorted Drugs and Alcohol radiated out from his room.
"Nevermind that Buddy" he said with a smile on his face, "Do it man, we wanna see that freaky shit"
I sighed shaking my head, Phil and his stoner buddies had caught me coming in the building in my true form. Sloppiness on my part but they shrugged it off as a drug induced hallucination that for some reason, only i can make them see. "I dont have time tonight man" i said trying to move off"
"Aw c'mon Dude, its Cool...Do it...Do it!" Stopping i turned and Shook my head, beginning the process. I felt myself alter, the Human outer shell being ripped away, tearing and being enveloped by my true form. As my face contorted and the skin ripped apart i threw in a Beast like Roar to signal the end of my transformation. "So hows that?" i ask, the sound of my human voice coming from this 'creature' must have seemed so wierd, if he hadnt been so off his head.
"Dude you have no idea how insanely cool that shit is" He grinned as he stumbled into the wall then seemed to roll into his room "Catch ya later bud!"
I changed back quickly after hearing one of the Doors down the hall open and an old Wrinkled face peering out. "Whats the Racket here?" it asked.
"Its ok Mrs Johnson" i called moving down the hall, "Just Phil and his buddies" The door closed again as i passed, hearing her mumble about 'those damn druggies' and headed downstairs and out of the building. The Air was cold, as fresh as it could be in the city but there was something else....a scent, and it was this i decided to follow.

(Anyone can step in as the 'scent' if u like. I know its not great but just getting myself involved)

[Bulbasaur4]

Vylia
~ Nefertiti Navari / F ~

Vylia was about to move.. when suddenly she sensed more presenses.
Navari.
Two.

That easily came to her... and this sent her hair to prickle again and she scooted farther against the hole she was in. However... soon footsteps were getting closer, and closer.
They must have seen me!
Vylia said, and instantly she bolted.
Running out of the hole she knocked over the trash can and began to try to run when suddenly a hand caught her arm. She whirled about, fear practically radiating from her silver eyes asshe saw it was a Corvus breed... at least, most from what she could tell. He had massive black wings, black hair... beady bird like eyes that seemed to her like a Raven's. She instantly shrank back... trying to tug away..
"Wait! I'm not goi-UGH!"
SUddenly Vylia in fear, whipped her tail about so violently that it had hit him directly in the stomach. Although he was muscular.. it still was a vital blow to hit him. He almost lost his grip.. but he loosened it enough that she violently yanked her hand away. She was about to tear off when suddenly another figured dropped in fronto fher. Another Navari.. the other one she had sensed. This one however, was a 'she' and seemed to be part Sphinx or some type o fNarvari like that. (Vylia knew breeds well since she had been hunted by them a lot.)

"That's not a very nice way to treat two fellow kyn that just killed that vampire that was hunting you." She spoke, taking a few steps towards Vylia who instantly shrank back.
"Be nice... she's only frightened." The other one seemed to caution, as Vylia gazed back between the two. She was not trusting... but for the moment she hesitated.
" When will you kill me?" Vylia stated, her voice rather cold but yet airy... almost smooth and gentle.

Both of them seemed rather shocked, as if that was the most unexpected thing she ever had spoke of.
"N-no.." The male spoke, as Vylia whirled her silver eyed gaze at him. The silver almost stood out too much... as a glint in her eye was exposed.
"Why would we do that?"

Vylia glanced between them, she was unsure if this was a trick. Why wouldn't they just kill her now?
" All Navari... All Nosfertu... they all hunt me. They all want to kill me." She said... glancing warily.
" We're not going to kill you... why would we have any reason to?"
Vylia eyed the female, and she warily replied.
"Because I was born."

[Outlaw JT]

Name: Ashram
Age: 487.
Gender: male
Description: Short, straight, and very well groomed jet black hair and perfectly trimmed mustache/goatee. Piercing violet colored eyes that gleam red in the darkness. Pale yet elegant and regal face. Everything about his appearance declares royalty and demands respect and fear. He is draped in a black cloak (hoodless), that stretches to the floor so as he moves it seems as if he is gliding across the floor rather than walking upon it. Ashram towers over the average person, standing at 6'7". Underneath his cloak, Ashram wears pressed black pants and a loose yet fitting white shirt; the kind of garb you might expect to see at a party held for nobility.
Personality: Proper, elegant, and completely sinister. His very being exudes confidence and he is full of arrogance. Proud, unrelenting, and lacking any sense of sympathy. He does not tolerate failure without exceedingly good reason. He is completely in command of himself and usually those around him as well.
Breed: Hard Blood
History: Ashram was born into vampire nobility, son of two of the elder council of vampires. He took well to his station in life and thrived on the power his position granted him. All that needs to be said about his history is that it is brutal. Few have stood in his path to claim power and none who did lived to tell. In vampire society he is looked upon as a ruthless and unrelenting general, commanding many to fulfill his desires. Of late, he has taken an interest in ancient myths and legends. It is said that he is searching for something that could grant him ultimate power but no one knows what for he does not share information. His history and reputation make him a man to be feared by anyone who would oppose him.
Weapons: His talon like hands, a very large broad sword made of an unknown material that dates back farther than recorded history, and his very mind.
Abilities: nearly unsurpassed physical strength, speed well above that of the average vampire or cursed, self levitation, and the power to exert control over those of weak mind.
Birth: Both his parents were hard blood as well. He was born into the upper eschelon of vampire society.

OOC: For those who don't remember him or never had the chance to be in an rpg with him before, time to remind you that Ashram is a bad, bad man!


Ashram
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes casually strolled about the room, taking in every detail for the hundreth time. It was not what one might expect having seen the rest of the complex to which it was attached. It was far older, for one.

The walls were carved out of the very stone of the earth. Tall ornate pillars, also carved out of the stone, protruded from the floors on the north and south walls, leading to a distinctive throne at the eastern end. The pillars told the most ancient of stories, the original war between the demons and vampires. The war in which vampires had won their freedom from demon society. Few now cared about such ancient tales, though. Ashram happened to be one of those few.

He sat upon the throne with only a small sense of pleasure. Outside of the elder council members, he was the only one else permitted to sit upon it. He would much rather be out conducting his own hunt, but sitting on the seat of vampire power for the whole region was small consolation. Enough to tame his boredom if only for a short while. The smell of vampire blood wafting down the hall announced how short a while.

"The nature of your arrival does not indicate pleasant tidings Falchion," Ashram bellowed before the source of the blood even entered the room.

Footsteps that had been running suddenly halted in their tracks. It took a moment but they finally proceeded hesitantly. And in stepped a ragged vampire, nearly out of breath with haste. Upon his lapel was the tiniest splatter of blood. Without an explanation, Ashram had already arrived at the conclusion to what must've happened.

"You were given simple orders Falchion. Locate and bring to me any Navari with silver eyes. You were not to hunt or engage any other Navari. Tell me Falchion, how many were there that the three of you were so swiftly defeated and only you escaped with your life?" Ashram's voice was calm but underneath it possessed a deep malice that would make anyone tremble.

Falchion let out an audible gulp. His heart beat faster with each passing second. To lie to Ashram would reward him with a slow and excruciating death. Such was the fate of anyone who would lie to a vampire of the upper eschelon. To tell the truth, though.....Falshion did not feel his fate would be much improved.

"There was.....only...one," he answered, stuttering on every word.

Faster than you can blink the picture of the room changed. Where Ashram had been seated the throne was empty. He now stood in front of the timid vampire Falchion.

Falchion looked down in sudden shock. His mind raced to process what he was seeing as Ashram's arm was plunged up to the bicep into his chest. He could hear the last beat of his heart in Ashram's hand behind his back. As the light slowly faded from his eyes he heard one last thing.

"Only one. Then if ever I meet this one Navari I shall have to thank them before they die. They have done me a great service in ridding me of such worthless underlings!" Ashram's voice was cold and piercing.

Ashram crushed the heart in his and let it drop to the floor. He drew his arm back and as it came free Falchion's body slumped to the floor, lifeless. It seemed impossible to find competent help among the numerous soft bloods that were placed at his command.

10 hunting parties of 3 and not one can turn up the silver eyed Navari. Rather than pursue the hunt myself, the council wishes me to remain here to oversee meaningless affairs while I coordinate my hunters centrally. No more! If the council wishes me to act as a beaurecrat anymore, they must first find me. Starting tomorrow night, Ashram joins the hunt!



OOC: I'll post for my other character soon.

[PS100]

Nyaka

The cab stopped outside my apartment building, as it should have. I got out and slowly ambled up to it. Then, as I opened the front door, I heard, "There, there he is." I spun around, having heard just a faint whisper on the wind, but saw nothing.

Damn good Nosferatu, if he evades my hearing and sight. I thought, shoving my paranoia aside in my own head and climbing the stairs. I heard something else as I went upward, this time the sound of faint footfalls on the stairs below me. Again, I spun around to see nothing.

This was starting to annoy me. If something was tracking me- obviously, something very skilled in concealment and spying- I should see it. Instead, whatever it was that was there, ic ouldn't see it, and that was a problem. Anything that could be a danger to me that I couldn't see would claim me.

At this point, I knew something was wrong. There was a completely audible creaking from the stairs, and I knew I wasn't crazy. I jumped down to the landing, spun and rushed down the stairs again. There in front of me stood a Nosferatu who was very obviously shaken up by my sudden appearance.

"Time to learn something, demon of blood." I snarled as he backed away. "I do not take well to paranoia. I heard you coming up after me the entire time I was in this buidling. Nothing escapes my hearing. Who are you here for, and why are you here for them?!"

"Heheheh..." the vampire chuckled a bit, then said, "The noble Ashram ordered us to search for the Navari with silver eyes." His on swept my face, then sighed. "Ah. I I see you have golden eyes, not those of silver. I will die for naught." With that, he drew a knife and slashed at me, grazing my shoulder with the blade.

"That's for sure." I replied, drawing my katana and slashing in one fluid motion. The vampire ducked, slashed, and ran back down the steps.

"He's not the one!" he called to other concealed vampires. "Slay him!"

One more dropped in front of me and attacked with a claymore. I blocked the blow, only to get kneed in the stomach and sent flying. I landed hard, but made sure I didn't land on my delicate wings, which would break easily. I slowly got up, then tossed to one side to avoid another claymore attack.

I got very annoyed very quickly. They were ganging up on me, and that wasn't a fair fight. I thrust me blade forward, catching the Nosferatu's leg, and then I tore upwards with the sword. He fell, unable to stand on his ruined leg. I pulled my katana out of him, then drove it through his skull. As I did this and he burst into flame, another vampire appeared.

"I see you killed my subordinate." he growled. "And scared off the other. Well..." He pulled a huge sword from a sheath in his back and levelled it at me. "You shall meet the same fate." He thrusted the blade at me, which I dodged, but then he swung down, catching the side of my leg.

I figured my chances would be better outside, so I somehow leapt over him and dashed down the stairs. At the bottom, the vampire that had been tracking waited, and I slew him and ran out the door, with the other one right behind me.

As soon as I was outside, I pulled off my backpack and spread my wings, flapping wildly to get airborne in the cool night air. Mine was a quiet neighborhood, so it was unlikely anyone would see me. When I was about fifty feet up, I pointed my katana downward and dove.

The vampire saw me just in time and blocked the attack, but couldn't counter quickly enough. Before he could launch a blow, I rose up into the air and prepared for another strike. Again I dove, but this time he was ready. He blocked, then launched a punch at my gut. He knocked the wind out of my large lungs, and as I rose again, I struggled to get enough oxygen to keep flying.

I knew that it had to end then and there, so I prepared for my ultimate strike. After focusing on his position for a second, I folded my wings to my back and dropped from the sky like a stone. I kept my eyes on him at all times, and then as I hit the ground, it was over. The momentum from my fall had cleaved him in two, and both sides burst into flame and disintegrated.

I slowly stood, wary of the fact that my bones could have snapped in the inpact. However, they hadn't and I was unharmed, with the exception of the shallow wound on my shoulder.

"I am not one for vendettas..." I muttered, sheathing my blade and gathering up my backpack. "But this Ashram has seriously annoyed me, and probably has annoyed the other Navari. Perhaps I should find out more about him, so I can fight and kill him for disturbing my sleep..."

[Toxicity]

BTW, RL, I'm pretty sure Frankenstein is book that Mary Shelly wrote. I know about the author of Dracula, but his name can't hit me right at the moment.

Name: Circe Samhain (Samantha Cirque to general public)
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Description: Considering her demonic blood, Sam is quite tall for a human girl, well near 6'5", as well as a bit thin to a point she's...ill-looking, but not unnormally like if she were anorexic. Her eyes are a soothing dark ocean blue color and her hair is an inky dark green color. Her skin tone is a bit average, but a bit pale in sunlight mainly due to her silver, talonesque nails.
In public, her clothing is simply a long-sleeved, striped shirt of black and green and knee-length pants of an olive color that seem to be made of a khaki-like material under the apron she uses for work. Her hunting clothing consists of a dark grey, somewhat thick trenchcoat, black shirt and jeans faded with legs torn off up to her knees.
Her deformities are quite clear outside of her nails; Her skin, still thick and rough, fades into a green as dark as her hair around her main defomities, mainly her underdeveolped wings which are slowly starting to form on her back, and the two horns and tail that has only started to rise from her skin.
Personality: Sam is generally a quiet, passive person who tries her hardest to hide all means of open sorrow. She is embarassed to show how she feels because she believes it matters to nobody else, so she suppressed these feelings which slowly ate away at her. Quite observant and caring of others, she seems to act far beyond her chronological age.
Demon Breed: Draconis (partially)
History: Circe, born in America but raised since the age of 6 in Amsterdam with "average" parents, was a bit of a pariah from childhood, where classmates would always question her skin's roughness and the slight tint of green seen through light-colored shirts. Even her parents, though of Navari heritage, were a bit stunned by their daughter. With quite a bit sorrow, she wanted to live outside of the public life, so she was tutored by her father, managing to get around, especially when it came to archery.
By 13 when the green of her hair became clear, the colored skin started to get darker and rougher and nails sharpening, there was the incident that nearly ruined her: her parents were both killed by a Nosferatu, right in front of her, and she was quite beaten. Some time later, she was found by an elder Navari and trained with her new-found abilities. After a good amount of training, she left and went to (scratches out name of the city) with the small amount of money her parents left behind after their death, making a living through working at a bookstore. She thinks she'll learn more about the Nosferatu through her job, and an explanation to her deformalities.
Abilities: As of now her "wings" can carry her only short distances until they form. She's also a bit agile, but not exactly "speedy". Claws are also a bonus.
Weapons: A small dagger made of what is apparently sterling silver usually hid when in public. Only out of public her main weapon is used: a longbow with arrows.

~*^*~Circe Samhain - Draconis Navari~*^*~

I lightly stepped in a groggy manner back onto the street after gliding about ten feet, a bit miserable and tired after work. Though it was long after work, it still felt a bit tiring just being out here alone in the night. Pulling the trenchcoat closer to me, I just simply continued walking, sighing as my almost unprotected legs felt the cold nightly air. However, I still should be out here, only considering the Nosferatu, or as normal humans called it, Vampires.

Reaching for one of the silver-tipped arrows on my back, I looked around, feeling a slight presence around me. They were, for sure, out here tonight. With my lip quivering, I continued walking until I almost ran into some staggering teenage stoner clearly heading back from a night of neon lights and ecstasy.

"Are you an angel of some sort?" He asked, a wide grin upon his face.

"No." I replied in a slightly serious tone which exposed my somewhat thick Dutch accent. I couldn't help it; all that time in Amsterdam did it to me. "Have you been doing anything perhaps...illicit?" Confused, he gave me a somewhat dark look before continuing on his oblique march home. Before long, I ran into another figure. This time, I was pretty sure it was one of Them.

Reaching for the longbow strapped onto my back, I aimed and fired the one arrow in my hands; I narrowly missed him right above the shoulder blade. As the humanoid beast snarled with hate fuming in his eyes, he ran close to me as I kicked, knocking me onto the ground due to imperfect balance. Ignoring the pain on my back, I reached for the sterling dagger on me, managing to return to good balance before his groveling stopped. Once again he attempted to lunge directly at me, almost forcing me against the wall of a building. I immediately then did what I first tried to do: stab the dagger into him.

As he was reduced to ash, I panted and sighed with relief. Going for my bow and that one arrow. A bit upset that it broke when it fell to the ground, I picked it up and walked my way back towards the apartment building I somehow call "home". When I arrived, I slipped in through the door quietly, whispering to myself "Secure again, I guess." Slipping out of my hunting adornment and into simple satin pajamas of a green color, I lightly placed the bow, its arrows, and my dagger in their regular security and slipped under the blankets into my bed, getting into a comfortable position on my back, considering these wings of my. I needed my rest for tomorrow's work and tomorrow night's hunting. Closing my eyes, I wondered if I was alone as being a Navari, and even if there were any other Navari of my kind.

[Tainted]

I know about the author of Dracula, but his name can't hit me right at the moment.

Bram Stoker.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Outlaw JT]

PS100: just so you know, that vampire's slip of the tongue (which was unlikely if they were remotely following their orders as they were supposed to) would be the first any living Navari would have heard of Ashram. At least, any free living Navari. Outside of Nosferatu society he keeps an extremely low profile.

[PS100]

OOC:

PS100: just so you know, that vampire's slip of the tongue (which was unlikely if they were remotely following their orders as they were supposed to) would be the first any living Navari would have heard of Ashram. At least, any free living Navari. Outside of Nosferatu society he keeps an extremely low profile.

That's what I had kind of meant... Nyaka wouldn't know anything about him, so he'd search for somebody who did, even if it was a Nosferatu.
Sorry if what I put was confusing. When he said, "and has probably annoyed other Navari, too," he assumed that because this search for the silver-eyed Navari had intruded on his life, that other vamps had done the same to other Navari and slipped as the one he fought did.

Hard to explain when you're tired.

PS

[Bulbasaur4]

Zyrak
~ Nosferatu / Tigris Draconis / M ~

Zyrak had watched from the shadows... his eyes of deep ocean blue glancing below as he saw the seen. A Navari... a skilled Navari, Zyrak would give him that credit. He took out two lesser Vampires, the other one running off like a coward. Zyrak didn't like this... he really, really didn't like the other one running of. Of course he really didn't feel like doing anything to help Ashram's cause, but he felt the need to scare the lesser soft blood.

Summoning up his wings at will, Zyrak's eyes slitted slightly to that of a tiger. The blue seemed to melt away slightly as his eyes instantly flushed with red crimson, intermixed with only a few flecks of blue. Wings soon ripped from his black shirt, long massive wings of black with a few strange reddish stripes upon them. With ease he summoned his wings upwards, as he did so a tail soon seemed to rip from his belt area upon his black pants, as he flew into the sky. Soon Zyrak landed before the soft blood vampire, the vampire running away like a coward.

Seeing Zyrak didn't really give him much comfort either. Although Zyrak wasn't one to kill his own kind or 'be the judgement' upon other failures, Zyrak was a bit moody. He could be testy as well... and if he wanted to have fun, he'd do whatever he felt was 'fun'.
" Running away from our problems... arrrrre we?" Zyrak taunted, placing his hands upon his hips as if scolding. His voice was mocking, sing songy and rather taunting. The vampire instantly cowered, far more than he had before the Navari. The only thing was... he knew he couldn't out run Zyrak. He didn't want to 'test' Zyrak either...

"The.. the Navari, it killed one of us! It was... was... too strong."
Zyrak rolled his eyes, his tiger-like additude instantly purring slightly.
"Too strong? TOO strong? That's the WORST excuse I've ever heard. Are you going to run your little legs off to Ashram now? You think he's going to say, 'Oh you poor little thing...' HAH! Go run to Ashram... go now. GO!"
With that Zyrak swiftly flew upwards with a gust of his wings, and landed behind the vampire. The soft blood took off... but not before recieving a lightning like blow from Zyrak's foot. He shook his head, glancing about as he heard the scuffling from the previous Navari suddenly end.
Time to have a little fun... Zyrak thought, musing over the idea of meeting a Navari. The other vampires had announced their presense... what would the harm be of announcing his?

Zyrak opened his wings wide, and with ease he flew until he spotted the Navari... just in time to see him finish off the last vampire. His acute, tiger-like ears that protruded from his hair also picked up his last words.

"But this Ashram has seriously annoyed me, and probably has annoyed the other Navari. Perhaps I should find out more about him, so I can fight and kill him for disturbing my sleep..."

With that, Zyrak laughed out loud... and on purpose. The Navari instantly looked up, and with a shrug Zyrak instantly swooped down below, clapping rather amusingly. The Navari instantly took a fighting stance... which Zyrak barely reguarded as he gave a wicked grin.
" Oooo... you're gonna take your big little pointy sticks and try to stab a vampire?"
The Navari didn't seem to know what to think... but he made a threatening move.
"What do you want vampire? I'll kill you just like I killed the other two."
Zyrak shrugged, "Just the way you plan on killing the vampire called Ashram? Good luck. Normally I wouldn't even mention Ashram's name... but since the other two idiots did, I guess there is no harm. But really... really now, let's be serious. You couldn't touch Ashram if you tried. You couldn't blink before he would rip out your throat and make it into an instrument to play upon. But... I can tell you wouldn't take my word for it. No no no... I'm a VAMPIRE! Heh... not some thing you'd like to take warnings from."

Zyrak laughed a little, letting his tiger-related dragon tail swish slightly in the air as if he were a playful cat.



( You can do whatever you'd like... but Zyrak wouldn't attack you, he's more coy right now and you wouldn't touch him either because he's rather fast when in partial demonic form. He'd talk... although he'd reveal very little about Ashram and he would not reveal anything about the myth or Ashram himself. He'd play dumb... as if he knew nothing but only knew Ashram and how he killed.)

[Samchu]

Name: Markus *Mark* Tyrrans
Age: ~ 21
Gender: ~ Male

Description:He's almsot 7 feet tall (don't worry i got good reasons) and has a pretty strong body build to accompany it. His hair is a strange firery red colour and is always messed up in some way. His eyes are a misty grey. During the day he'll wear his uniform (as he's required to) but he feels much more comfrtable in things that are loose and generally dark, for some reason anything that rips easily is a bonus for him. He prefer trainers over everything, black with velco, quick and easy to put together and of course, like everything else, black - although he prefers his trainers to fit securely around his feet. He has a strange swelling at the base of his spine and two on the back of either shoulder blade - strangest thing though, they seem to be getting bigger.

Personality: ~ He's a nice guy, works hard, socialises every now and then, just basically trying to get through everyday life as best as he can. He feels different from other people, he feels like he doesn't belong where he is but he remains dedicated to his work because it's what he knows. The beginning of the strange killings stur something in him though and finindign out about it is one of the only things that doesn't feel 'alien' to him. He likes to know people but also to know how they think, he's interested in the mind more than the body and is more tactical than 'hands-on' though that doesn't make him a poor fighter. He is quick in the mind which sometimes makes him quick in battle.

Demon Breed: Sub-speices of a draconis (hence the height, strange bodily features and want for easy to rip clothes)

History: ~ He grew up in an orphanage and was treated differently from all the other kids. He was given different food, different lessons, he was taught to fight and to protect but never why, why was never taught to him and he could never understand why he was treated differently or why he felt different. Puberty came and the 'special lessons' increased in intensity. The mood darkened, became more caution more...expecting, but nothing happened, whatever they were expecting never came and everything just collapsed around him. He was put up in a small flat and told to use what he'd learnt to make a life, so he did. He never found the answers to his questions but he found one thing that appealed to him - protecting. So he joined the police force and found himself in a nice job and a semi-quiet life. But he doesn't know who he is, he doesn't know that he is a Navari, that he is has been trained to fight the Nosferatu or that those strange swellings are the developing of a tail and wings. He doesn't know that his skin is tougher than that of a normal human's and he doesn't know why he feels comfortable taking a secured stroll in the evenings. And, he can't possibly know the questions or the complexities that will come to light when all of this finally comes out.

Abilities: For starters, he can fly, wings are a great asset indeed but he can also lift things that he shouldn't be able to, anything else is currently unknown at this point.

Weapons: He carries a pistol with him at all times - it's his work gun - and never leaves the hourse without it, although he tends to conceal a shortsword on his person because he feels a strange attachment to it and the unreadable markings upon it.

Other: ~ *attacks other with a vicious combination of slashes and bullets* HAHAHAHAHA!

Mark
~~~~

Paperwork, I hate paperwork. I was working overtime, finishing off some bits and pieces that I'd been too busy to complete, mostly because I had spent the past week putting it off, there were more pressing matters I'd had to attend to.

"What does it mean?" I thought aloud, rubbing my hand over my ever-growing spinal base. There was no explaination, I had taken out every medical book I could find and nothing explained what was going on...apparently it wasn't possible for what to be happening to me to happen. It was all very confusing.

I finished up and headed outside, instictivley putting my hand in pocket as I walked. I had been taught to always keep a weapon close at hand and to use silver bullets instead of normal ones, and I did that, although I had no idea as to why. For some unknown reason, walking the streets seemed like a second job, I would walk them for hours before I got home but never knowing quite why - I found there were a lot of 'why' in my life.

I heard voices coming from nearby, three voices. Two female and one male and a strange feeling that I had never had before, a feeling to go and meet with these people, so I went. I followed my instict just like I had been told to and what I found...they...they weren't quite human.

I gasped and they spotted me, it seemed I had interrupted...something, who knows what. There was an awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to do. I tightened my grip on my gun, if they tried anything I'd shoot them, I'd - "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt before. My shoulders, my spine, they both emitted such intense pain that I dropped to my knees in distress.

I was confused and scared, I didn't know what was happening to me and all the time those things were watching...as if they knew what was happening, but I was in no condition to ask them. My skin was stretching, i could feel it pulling apart, making way for the new muscle and bone that was beginning to come through.

Then it all came out, all at once. The end of my spine ripped through the skin and new bones that seeming came from nowhere ripped out from behind my shoulders. I felt new muscle growing over new bone and then skin over that...no, not skin, scales! What the hell was happening to me? Why was this happening to me? I didn't understand, I didn't understand anything but some part deep inside of me knew that this was happening for a reason, that this was part of who I was.

I ended as suddenly as it had begun. The pain numbed, I felt access to muscles that I never dreamed possible, wings, a tail, just what did all this mean? I looked up at the others, soemthing told me, I was one of them, I was whatever they were, they would have to tell me what was going on. I opened my mouth to ask them but I couldn't find the strength, I'd never know such excrutiating pain and I found myself unable to say, or do, anything. My body fell forward and I passed out...

[VirtualPlay]

Mike
~~~~~~~~
I looked over at Kathy, confusion filling my eyes. She also looked as helplessly lost as I felt. I looked down at the scared Novari and the fear that filled her eyes almost made me feel like I was doing something wrong. I shook it off, however, and asked, "Well…do you have a name?"

She looked down, like she had no answer, but after a few moments replied, "You can call me…Vylia…" She winced slightly, as if it hurt her to say her own name.

"Well that's an interesting name," I said. "Much more interesting than ours, at least. I'm Mike Rampart and that's Kathy over there; she's my sister."

Vylia looked up suddenly. "You have…human names?" She asked, almost surprised.

"Yeah," Kathy piped up, slowly walking closer. "It makes it easier for us to blend into human society."

Vylia looked shocked for a moment. "You…you pass among humans, even with your obvious…well, deformities?"

"We make them less obvious," Kathy said, smiling. "Sometimes all you need is the right wardrobe," she added, at which point she shivered slightly. "Although I think I found a tear in my outfit. I really hate winter…"

"I'll fix it when we get home," I said, then an idea struck me. "Vylia…do you have a place to stay?" She didn't answer, but looked up with a spaced look on her face. "If you want, you can come stay at our house for at least tonight."
~~~~~~~~

Doesn't matter to me whether Vylia accepts or refuses; whatever you like I'll go with. Oh, and I'm gonna leave the part where Markus enters up to you as well.

[kalad1]

Dennis
___________________________________
I was taking a roundabout route home, didn't want any of the vampire filth following me home after all. I had reabsorbed my armor and sword, leaving me wearing ill fitting and torn clothing, barely better than rags, but they kept me decent.

I walked for a while, considering possibilities that I had never considered before. Was my brother right under my nose, living somewhere in this city? And what of the fact that the vampire wasn't initially hostile? Could it be...?

It looked like there was a commotion a distance ahead, some people standing there, it'd take me a little bit of time to get there, and it didn't look like it was too important, so I continued at my leisurely pace, keeping an eye out for anything else out of the ordinary.

[SneaselReborned]

Syir / M / Nosferatu / Desmodus

A soft sound awoke Syir. Slowly he opened his eyes, only to close them shut in an instant. A single thought crossed his mind.

Ashram.

Syir's keen ears picked up the elevated heartbeats, getting louder and louder as Ashram stalked closer and closer to Syir's position. Syir gazed down at the cold-blooded vampire lord, who looked upwards, searching...searching. At once, Syir decided that this was not a time to try to view the situation. He tried to drift back into a slumber, but it would not come. The elevated heartbeats grew louder and louder, until finally all around him all Syir could hear was the thump thump of vampiric hearts, all awake with fear.

Syir remained calm. Nothing Ashram could do to him would be worse than what he had already experienced. He maintained a cool posture, and tried to drift back into sleep. A voice roused him from his sleep quickly.

"You. Out of this entire damn organization of nosferatu, you are the only one who was not afraid of me when I came near you. Why is that? Do you find me...safe?" The great vampire lord said.

Syir slumped, and let his talons go from the long-unused power line. He opened his wings, and came down to the floor, landing beside Ashram.

"What is it, Desmodus? Do you find me a wimp?" Ashram demanded, taking a step closer to Syir.

Syir maintained an icy calm. He looked Ashram in the eyes, and sensed something.

Respect?

"I find you quite fearful. However, unlike these petty vampires, I refuse to be afraid of anything." Syir said calmly, and his mouth twisted into a smirk. All along the power lines, vampires shifted away from the scene. Talking directly to Ashram was a terrible offense.

Ashram's brow furrowed, and he turned away. He thought for a second, and then he turned back. Interesting, Ashram thought.

"Desmodus...you're coming with me to hunt. Tomorrow night. I expect you there, ready. If you don't show up, I'll personally kill you."

Ashram calmly walked towards the trap-door to the place, thinking over what had happened the last few seconds.

"Desmodus, do you have a name?" Ashram called back as he opened the trapdoor.

"Syir."

OOC If this is going too far into Ashram's "territory", then forget about this post. Maybe he would have his own hunting party, only chosen by people who he thinks are good hunters or something? I dunno, just tell me if I'm intruding too much into your character, Outlaw.

EDIT Added in the "afterthought" part and the "tomorrow night" part.

[Tainted]

-=(Zedrick von Ulrich)=-
//^--//-==-/o+o\-==-\\--^\\

There was certain emptiness to the mood of the streets, and it wasn’t just because it was night. It seemed that there was something unsettling about that I was not yet informed of. There were no others of my kind that I had seen yet tonight, and there were no others or any other opposing kind—it was pure madness to think that I was the only one alone. I breathed in deeply, noticing that this had been a fairly boring night aside from my habitual feeding that occurred almost like clockwork. Sadly, the night had only begun—it was nights like this that I wished would go faster, or at least have something interesting happen.

“Oh well, just another night.” I murmured to myself as I walked down the abandoned streets devoid of any life whatsoever.

[Amethyst Flygon]

Luken:
I was really embarassed to have attacked another Navari like me. I tugged on my chain and the spike came out of the wood. "I'm sorry that I attacked you, but you did chuck a knife at me as well." I muttered.
"What kind of person in their sane mind sneaks into someone's home at night and expects a warm welcome?" He replied. "Don't you know the difference between a Navari and a Nosferatu?" He scolded me.
"Hey, I never got any proper training. I only learned about all this around two years ago. It's not like someone tutored me."
Looking at Soluun's dwelling, I realized that he might not be very comfortable at nights. "Hey, would you like to crash at my place for the night? It's the least I can do to make up for barging in on you."

[RaZoR LeAf]

***
I haven't forgotten about this BTW, I just need an chance to read through everyone's post uninterrupted. It's chaos at my house at the moment, i'm moving in 2 weeks, so it's tidy/pack/pack/tidy.
***

[Outlaw JT]

Sneasel: It's not perfect but it's not a bad portrayal of Ashram. Two things, though. He isn't going out hunting till the following night. Day has to pass by before he is gonna go. Second, he very well may have invited your character to join him after an encounter like that but he wouldn't have been looking for anyone to form a hunting party. Unless something caught his attention he would've gone out on his own. Make two minor adjustments and the post is golden though. Adjustments being it is for the next night and that inviting your character is an afterthought not a planned event by Ashram...... Thanks!


Name: Eidolon
Age: 2 (also have a good reason)
Gender: genderless but appears male
Description: 6'3", short and wavy pure white hair, eyes are like two silver orbs (no pupils, just a solid silver color), lightly tanned skin with perfect complexion, everything about his appearance seems ideal. He appears to wear black pants, a black silk long sleeved button shirt, and a blood red vest.
Personality: calm, wise, patient, strong sense of justice. Eidolon behaves as though nothing mattered, always maintaining perfect calm and balance. Nothing ever seems to phase him. There is also a great deal of innocence about him even though he is possessed of wisdom far beyond even the eldest of vampires.
Demon Breed: Eidolon is a pure demon, not a cursed. It is an ancient line of demons comprised of no more than 5 at any given time. They are the keepers of knowledge and the scale of justice for all demonkind. They have a very complicated existance. If they survive for their full natural lives they live to be exactly 10 years to the nano-second. If they are prepared when they die, a new Eidolon is born 1 year to the nano-second from their death and if not it could take anywhere from 2 years to 2 decades for a new Eidolon to be born in their place. When an Eidolon is born, they are gifted with all of the knowledge and experience that their predocessor possessed yet none of their memories. As they come into being they have full knowledge and experience of the world yet no memories of it. A newborn Eidolon may be a master of every martial art known to man and yet not know what a firearm was. In demon culture, the 5 Eidolons were each supposed to carry a different branch of knowledge. Over time, as many Eidolon's were killed prematurely by vampires capable enough to catch them by surprise, the 5 became 2 and the knowledge merged evenly into those two. In that process, much of the knowledge was lost between them. Like pieces of a puzzle that required both to complete. Sadly, Eidolon's partner is nowhere to be found so he possesses many pieces to the puzzle of ancient legends and myths but not the whole picture..
History: When Eidolon was born, he was immediately baffled by the fractured bits of knowledge he contained. As he was not born among other demons, but in a strange mountain range, he spent two years exploring the world. Forming memories of the world he was born into so he could understand it and searching for any signs of the other Eidolon and demon society so that his knowledge may be put to use.
Abilities: Eidolon have the ability to become ethereal along with whatever is on their person. While they are ethereal they can pass through solid matter and possess people. Even people of very strong mind can be possessed, although the greater the mind the more of a toll it takes on them. Eidolon couldn't force someone to harm themselves this way but they could make them harm others if it fit within the Eidolon's sense of justice (which was defined by the ruling demon council ages before recorded history). They are also gifted with remarkable agility. Their physical strength is no greater than that of a normal person, however.
Weapons: a pair of backhanded crescent moon daggers made of double folded silver. When used properly they create the kind of wound that doesn't close. The kind of wound that even vampire's would have trouble mending.
Other: he is an expert martial artist, master of multiple styles and forms (some that don't even exist anymore)


Eidolon
~~~~~~~~~~

A clear night sky and a crisp breeze guided him through the streets of this unfamiliar city. It was new to him and he had no memories of it. Yet, something led him to it. It was as if he were being called by the elder demon council evevn though he knew it to be extinct.

His memory told him of specific people and of a specific time but it did not tell him of a place for the events that must come. Perhaps this city was the place. It did reek of Nosferatu and Navari. Nearly the whole city was a battleground by his reckoning.

Still......... I do not sense that all of the pieces are yet in play here. Eidolon remains hidden from me and the keys are yet far apart. This puzzle has not yet been assembled.

His thoughts echoed in his mind as he drifted. He passed through the buildings and streets of the city like a phantom, drifting aimlessly. Something had called him to this city at this time and whatever it was would no doubt guide him to where he was meant to be. Of this, Eidolon had no doubt.


OOC: anyone who wants to find Eidolon may feel free to do so. Keep in mind that he is very calm, very clever, and very elusive if he doesn't like the feel of you (meaning vampires he wouldn't give himself even odds against).

[Bulbasaur4]

Vylia

~ Nefertiti Navari / F ~

Vylia was in shock as the two Navari talked to her... like she was normal. Then... the oddest thing happened. Not only did they introduce themselves, they asked her to stay the night with them. She was rather bewildered...
Her silver eyes glanced about as if caught in headlights, as if she didn't know what to do with herself. She wanted so badly to trust these two Navari... but yet every thing she ha dlearned told her to stay away. She was the outcast...t he one that everyone wanted dead.
Except that last vampire... he had - Vylia shook her head as if to clear away all her thoughts. She had run into three vampires this night... that was more then any night in her life. She managed to elude all three... luckily for her. Yet each one gave better chase then the last... and she couldn't help but think if she ran into just one more, she wouldn't be able to run away anymore.

"Don't you want to kill me? Like the rest?!" Vylia suddenly said loudly at them, which at that Mike and Kathy seemed incredibly surprised.
"Why... why do you keep asking that?" Kathy said, tilting her head to the side as if confused. Vylia withdrew a breath... the 'danger' sense she had with in her was gone for now, although soem thing at the back of he rhead kept taunting her. They honestly didn't look like they wanted to kill her... and if they did, they probably would have done so already. They must have not known of the legend... and Vylia planned to not tell them. If they knew... they most surely would then kill her.
Everyone always tried.

"Nevermind... I'll... I'll come." She stammered, glancing at them with a nod. It was at that time however, a cry echoed in the air. Turning about, Vylia saw a human-looking figure suddenly fall to the ground. With a start, Vylia looked panicked. Another Navari?! But this one... this one was changing...
His whole body erupted into wings and draconic features... and Vylia was bewildered. Mike and Kathy seemed to understand.
" He must be new..." Mike stated calmly as they watched, for there was nothing they could do.
"New? What do you mean?" Vylia asked warily, glancing at the two as they looked at her in confusion.
"Well he's going into transformation... he must have just hit pueberty of some sort and his full Navari side must have just come. It happens to all of us... and by the looks of that tail I see poking out of your cloak, it happened to you." Mike confirmed, but Vylia stared at them.

Her gaze was of confusion... as if she didn't get it.

" You mean you didn't under go a painful change like all Navari do?" Kathy asked.
"...N-no... I was born this way. My tail and wings... they... grew swiftly one day in less than a few seconds. It was painless."
Both of them glanced at her in disbelief, and Vylia sighed and with that she took her delicate fingers and pulled down the hood of her cloak. Her viberant, soft yet strikingly beautiful pale face came into view along with her almost entirely thick white hair. Her silver eyes almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, and it was obvious by her hair and skin tone that she wasn't very normal. Her white ears that poked through her hair proved that as well. They seemed stunned slightly... but then a cry of agony broke the spell.

Mike glanced at the figure on the ground.
"We should bring him with us... come on, let's get going."

[Mystic_clown]

Sorry for not posting

Name: Tebiris Velion
Age: 480
Gender: Male
Description: Despite his age, Tebiris looks quite young. His skin is quite pale, almost white, he’s quite well built for his size and stands at 5’13. His hair is white with a tint of blue and is untidy and unevenly reaches his shoulders. His eyes appear to be crimson and seem to stare into a person’s soul. He usually wears a black shirt which is tucked into his slightly baggy, white pants. He also wears a white coat and a pair of dark shades. He’s got plenty of scars all over his torso. Despite his creepy appearance, there’s something about him that draws women to him.
He can summon white dragon wings at will. When he gives half of himself to his demon form, his body is covered with dark, almost black red tiger stripes and his muscles bulk up. His legs resemble a tiger’s and his arms become tiger like with black claws. His eyes go completely blod red and black and blue horns sprout from his hair. When he goes into his full demon form, he takes the form of a white dragon with dark blue stripes and blood red eyes.
Personality: He seems to show no emotion what-so-ever and carries out his kills and missions with fuss. He normally kills his victims straight away, but on occasions, when he’s feeling erally sadistic, he’ll torture them a bit before putting them out of their misery. Trying to talk to this guy is like talking to a brick wall as he’ll ignore every word you say. The only things on his mind are killing and becoming stronger. He’ll follow any order the Elders give him and carry them out flawlessly. He doesn’t kill because he wants to, he does it because he believes he has nothing else to live for.
Breed: Tigris Draconis
History: Tebiris was born of two pure Nosferatu, thus gaining him high repsect among his kind. Ever since he was small, Tebiris has been training to become stronger and learning about the Earth. He had high respect for his father Relic, but is cold and distant to his mother Shariena (he knew about the affairs you see). When his little brother Zyrak was born, Tebiris put off his training to take care of him, but since he got into so much trouble, he soon let his father handle him. When they both reached an advanced age (100 for Zyrak, 210 for Tebiris), the two went separate years. They never really contacted eachother since.

The first 100 years for Tebiris were like those of any normal Nosferatu, hiding in the shadows and killing when necessary. But when he arrived in the city, Tebiris got an idea. He made a name of himself in the criminal underworld and became an assasin for hire. So, while he’s not following orders for the Elders, he kills for wealthy crime bosses and getting paid for it. Despite all this, very few people have discovered what he really is. And those who have, are now dead (thanks to Tebiris).
Weapons: At first, Tebiris carried around a sword which belonged to his father and a chain with a hook on the end, which he throws with deadly accuracy. The sword is made from a high durable metal and the handle is crafted from bromze. But as the times changed, so did Tebiris’ arsenal. As well as the sword and chain, Tebiris now carries a pair of duel uzis.
Birth: He was born by pure Nosferatu.

Tebiris
--------------------------------
I layed on my bed, looking up the ceiling. My apartment was always darkened, preventing any light getting in. This made it perfect for me. All the darkness and silence allowed me to think clearly. I thought about y family, remembering them. As the image of my father appeared in my mind, my body filled with pride. He was a highly respected Nosferatu, like me and took life seriously. I sighed and looked over at my father sword. It was placed on a stand on the opposite end of the room. Then the figure of my mother appeared in my mind. All the pride in my body turned to hate. She thought she could have any man. It tore me up inside how she could do that to father. I was only one who knew about the affairs, but something prevented me from telling father. Then a third being appeared in my mind. Someone who I hadn’t seen in 270 years.
My little brother…Zyrak.

I could remember him more clearer then my parents. Maybe it was because he was still alive, or maybe it was because I spent so much time with him since he was born. I could remember him sneaking out into the world, and I always had to bring him back. After we went our separate ways, I hadn’t seen him nor heard from him. After all these years, one would think that someone like him would have gotten himself killed, but I could tell that he was still alive. Call it a gut feeling. But I couldn’t help wondering…
“Zyrak,” I murmed out load, “I wonder how he’s doing?” My phone then rang, breaking me from my trail of thought. I got to my feet and picked it up.
“Hello,” I said into the reciever.
“Tibiris,” said the voice on the other end, “It’s Moe.” Moe was a bar tender who only called me when someone wanted someone eliminated. It was time for another job.
“Who is it this time?” I asked.
“Some politician wants some guy whacked. His aid wants to meet you at the Carvearo Café at eight.” A smile spread across my features. Even politicians needed someone killed these days.
“I’ll see him there,” I replied before hanging up. I wasn’t sure who my target was or how much I would be getting paid, but one thing was for certain…
…someone’s going to die tonight.

If anyone's willing to be Tebiris' next 'target' PM me.

[Krystalline Kabutops]

Soluun
\~V~/

I looked at Luken, surprised. "Sure... Just let me gather up my things." Going around my dwelling, I gathered up my scythe, gun, and knife. Stashing them all away, I turned back to him. "Ok, I'm ready to go." I leaped over one of the beams, soared down to the ground below. Half a minute later, Luken joined me. "Pretty good for a Jharhin." I noted with the barest hint of a smile. He nodded. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself." I nodded as well, and looked around.

"So, which way d'you live?" I asked. He pointed towards downtown. "It'll take a while to get there, unless..." I gave a faint chuckle. "No, I can't fly you there. I'm no transport." He sighed. "Well, I guess we'll have to walk, then." I nodded at his statement. We started walking, and eventually struck up a conversation. The conversation inevitably turned towards our childhoods. I felt reluctant to share, but eventually I told him most of what I could remember. He shook his head sadly.

"I can't imagine what it'd be like to never know your parents." I shrugged. "I don't remember them, so I don't really miss them or anything. Just meant I had to grow up fast." He nodded as we approached an apartment building. "Everyone should be asleep, so it's probably safe to go in." He said, opening a door. The building was rather barren, all cement. There wasn't even a carpet lining the floor. We went up several floors in silence, not wanting to awaken any of the other residents. Finally, we got to the top floor. Pulling a key out of his pants, He unlocked a door at the end of the hallway, and walked in. I followed, amazed at what I saw.

The place was a pit, that was for sure, but it was a good kind of mess. There was a large television by the wall, with several devices that I recognized as gaming stations. I'd never actually played one, due to a lack of means of acquiring one or the time to use it. Looking around, I spied a couple of other doorways. Moving through one, I entered the kitchen, followed by Luken. He opened the fridge. "You hungry? I've got a bunch of leftovers." At once, I was in front of the fridge, piling all the food I could into my claws.

He looked at me, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "You don't get much food, do you?" I shook my head. "And the food I do get, is either stolen, caught, or picked out of the trash." He sighed. "Well, when you're done eating, you can sleep on the couch in the other room. I'm hitting the hay." With that, he vanished into another room adjoining the kitchen. I sat down on the couch, filling myself with pizza, carrots, and burgers. Finally, my hunger sated, I fell into a light sleep, this time both eyes closed. For some reason, I felt safe here.

[RaZoR LeAf]

Davro (Navari/m/Arachnid)

Davro's alarm buzzed. He'd not long gone to sleep, but it was day break. 4:30 am was a hell of a time to be getting up when your hunting all night, but he was used to it. It gave him time to get everything sorted before he started work. Walking to the bathroom he grabbed a large knife from under a pile of books. He tensed, never liking doing this, but it was a necessity. Lying his third, extra arm down on the counter, he raised the knife and cleanly sliced it off.

Teeth clenched, holding back the howl pain, the arm quickly shrivelled up as they always have done. Within an hour it would be little more than dust. Almost vampiric in a sense, that it would be reduced to nothing in such a short time, but Arachnid's were a very strange demon. Their limbs would grow back in time. Blood began to sweep from the wound. Despite the severity of the 'attack' it tended not to bleed much. Davro turned the shower on. Feeling the hot water flow over his body and caress the bruises and wounds of the previous night was a pleasure he was glad to have. A bath never felt the same. Running his tongue around his mouth, he reached in and pulled out another broken tooth, throwing it down the drain and spitting some blood after it. Arachnids grew back teeth too, but it took a hell of a lot longer. Davro didn't go do dentists because of that little fact.

He blinked an eye, then blinked his faceted array. Drying off, he wrapped a bandage around the wound of his arm and dressed in his usual shirt and suit. He opened a drawer and found the application package of his fake eye. Oh the excitement of the morning rituals. He placed the fake eye and skin patch over his spider like eyes, then covered them up with his glasses. Perfect. He'd tear it off tonight, and reapply it again tomorrow. The never ending cycle of the Navari.

He made a coffee and went to stand out on the balcony to watch the sun come up fully. It might not seem much to most people, but to the navari, the Sun was a sign of life. It featured heavily in the mythology of the Navari. The white Sun and it's opposite the Black Moon, constantly at war with each other. Of course the Sun brought the light of day and safety, the moon brought darkness and danger. There were many prophecies and legends regarding them both, many of which prominently featured the coming of one who would hold the two in alignment, and that that Navari would be the end of the Navari, or the beginning of the new age.

Sat on the edge of the balcony was a demon. It wasn't that obvious from behind, but no one else could have climbed up to here, and a Vampire wouldn't be out in the sun. A simple case of deduction.
"Would you like a drink?" Davro asked plainly. The demon turned his head back looking through silver orb like eyes.
"No thank you Navari." It answered. There was no tone, to pitch. Davro guessed genderless.
"You're not from around here are you?" Davro asked again, sipping his drink.
"I go where the questions lead me."
"Ah. How did you know I was a Navari?"
"How did you know I was a Demon?"
Davro smirked. "Good point. I have work soon. Enjoy the view."
"It is a nice view. It has been good speaking to you Navari."

The demon jumped, very high, to the roof of the building opposite, looked back momentarily, then moved off.
"Talkative chap." Davro mused, and went back inside to find his jacket.


Fethrin (Nosferatu/m/Desmodus)

See's Zed covered in blood. No shirt on.

Talks to Ashram about his hunting for the Silver Eyed one.

Fethrin stood below an open manhole. Light was streaming through the lip shining on the wall opposite. Dawn was here, and it was time to suffer the consequences of being allergic to ultraviolet light. Staying underground. How pleasant. The sound of footsteps made Fethrin step back from the shaft of light. A heavy bodied vampire was approaching. No shirt, tattoos over the majority of his skin, and dried blood covering most of his chest and face.
"Can't you even clean yourself after feeding?" Fethrin sneered to the vampire as he walked past.
"Save it." he answered in a heavy Russian accent, not even stopping to retaliate.
"Fotze." Fethrin mumbled under his breath. A lovely German insult he'd learnt in his past. Time was passing, more light was coming in through the manhole, time to move on to more humble abodes.

"Another Desmodus I take it?" Came a heavy growling voice from behind.
"Ashram I take it? To what do I hold the pleasure of meeting his esteemed royalness today?"
"Don't push your luck Bat. I know the sort of life you lead, you think yourself better than the rest of us. You feed on the upper class, that's why a lot of the time you aren't out hunting. You do have something I need though."
Fethrin thought for a moment, readying himself for a fight at the same time. "And what's that?
"Information. I know you frequent the upper class places." Ashram reached into his black robe and handed Fethrin a scrap of paper. "If you recognise this, then you'll know what I'm looking for."
Fethrin un-scrunched the parchment and looked at it. he knew what it was. It was unmistakable.
"I should be able to find what you're after."
"By tonight would be favourable." Ashram said, turning away and walking off into the shadows. He became practically invisible, his black cloak making him as dark as the shadow itself.
"And if I can't?" Fethrin shouted after him.
"Then I'll find someone else. And leave you to the rats."

Fethrin scrunched up the parchment and shoved it in his pocket. Another insult came to mind, but chances were Ashram would know what it meant. Fethrin may not have liked other vampires much, but he did have a moderate respect for Ashram. Mainly because he knew what happened to those who disappointed him.

(OutlawJT, i've sent you a PM)

Sloan (ISE/f)

"What have we got?" Sloan asked, pulling a white glove over her hand.
"Female, Caucasian, about 16-20 years of age. Found her in an alley, cleaved neatly in half, no blood loss from the wound, presumably already drained. There was the half decomposed body of a Rattus nearby, so most of it makes sense." Marcus replied, wheeling in a large table, presumably accommodating two halves of a body.
"I thought I told you about describing things as 'Neatly cut'. Nothing is ever neatly cut in half." Sloan pulled back the sheet and whistled. "I take it back. That IS neat. You say the rat was also cleaved?
"So I'm told."
"What the hell would cleave a Rattus and the victim in two?"
"She was dead before the slicing. They probably did her a favour."
"Someone hunting vamps you think?" She asked.
"Snowman?"

Snowman was the less than correct term used to describe ISE members that had gone AWOl, and were playing the game by their own rules. Hunting vampires the best they could. Pity was that most ended up victims. One had been sired, and a lot of security measured had been taken to make sure there were no secrets let out. Since then all employees were fitted with a security chip. It was brutal, but it was necessary. The chip was an micro locater as well as a small detonator. It would kill in an instant, human or vampire.

"No. All the Snowmen on file are accounted for. Most of them are down here. No, this is something else. Something is out there going around killing vampires."
"And people."
"Maybe."

[kalad1]

Dennis
___________________________________
The group had walked away before I'd gotten close enought to identify anyone. As such, I headed home to have some food then get a good amount of sleep. While I was able to go longer than most people, I still needed sleep.

Arriving outside my apartment complex, I jumped up to the fire escape and worked my way up to my room, which I entered using a minor modification that allowed the latch to be opened from the outside by usage of a small hidden switch. I walked in, slightly unhappy that the hunting did not have as high a yield as I had hoped.

After having a small meal, I went to bed and fell into a nightmare.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a happy occasion, my fourteenth birthday, our home was decorated and had balloons and such. I had just begun opening my presents when the front door burst open and several people bearing automatic weapons came in the room.

"You're coming with us, if you resist, you will be killed." the one in the lead stated.
Suddenly, everything seemed to happen at once, mom grabbed me and Adam, taking us to the back door and instructing us to run, dad making his armor and an axe appear and charged at them.

Doing as we were told, we ran, we ran until we could run no more and passed out in an alleyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awoke covered in cold sweat, why did I dream of THAT night? Noticing that it was nearly noon, I got up and showered, continuing to wonder about the dream. After I had eaten a small breakfast and managed to chalk the dream up to cooincidence, I decided to head out to a small cafe that I knew of that had the best coffee, far better than the stuff that any of the large chains served.

[Pichu Luver]

Aysel Jackson Navari/Centaur
~~~~~~~~~~

“Aysel . . .”

“Aysel . . .”

“Aysel time to get up, unless of course you prefer the alarm.”

Aysel cracked an eye open only to find a dark blue cover. She sighed and flipped the cover back, getting a face full over bright sunlight. She threw up her arm over her eyes and grimaced. It was late, much later then she usually got up. She propped herself up and turned to look over at her uncle.

“You should have woken me.” She said softly and carefully disentangled herself from the blanket. She’d learned from her first few days as a full centaur how easy it was to twist a leg in her blanket.

“You needed your rest. Besides I doubted even the alarm would have woken you.”He said, leaning against her bedroom doorframe. He was in his early thirties and had an average build; you could tell he’d worked on a farm all his life though. His light brown hair was longer then average and he wore oval shaped glasses. “I’ve already grained the horses and cleaned the stalls but you take my half of the grooming in return all right?”

Aysel nodded, she knew she’d gotten the more enjoyable end of the deal. It also didn’t require her to get up at 6am either; closer to 10am usually, unless they were selling a horse and had an early appointment. Of course her uncle did the selling. She’d only freak the buyers out. He made sure she got the credit though, and a believable excuse why she never sold the animals.

“Thanks, I’ll be down soon.” She said and got to her feet. Her uncle, Daniel, nodded and walked into the living room and out the door, headed for the north paddock probably it needed to be fixed.

She folded up her blanket and fixed her pillows. She then headed into her private bathroom. The money they had made from her horse training had also helped to make improvements onto the house. Her bathroom’s shower was basically a fancy horse-showering stall. She had her shower, as quickly as was possible for her and changed into her daytime clothes. She grabbed a quick breakfast and headed down to the barn. Making sure to grab her phone. It was something her uncle had invented, being the techno wiz. It simply fit into her ear and had a little microphone reaching down too halfway to her mouth.

Her hooves made a ringing down on the cement in the barn as she grabbed a tack box, to take out into the field. It was easier to groom the horses outside in the field, at least for her. She jumped into a canter and, not bothering with the gate, leaped the fence into the south paddock.

She cantered up to the group of two and three years olds and set about her work. She could tell they were enjoying their grooming and quickly got her work done. She was just heading over to the yearlings when her phone beeped in her ear.

“Hello?”

“People.” The phone clicked off and she did a 180 into the forest. The last thing she needed was to be seen. Thankfully every paddock was bordered by a row of trees, the south paddock bordering the forest as well.

She got in the forest and hid her self about 10 feet in. When she had stopped moving, she heard car doors slam, with Daniel greeting the visitors. She sighed and lay down into the bed of leaves. By the sounds of it they’d be a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Amethyst Flygon]

I promise that the next post will be for Laurine. It's finally almost time for her to go to work.

Luken:
He agreed and packed his stuff. Not much in the way of luxury items, but I guess that would be expected. Soluun glided down to the street. Envying his wings, I searched for a spot to jump down that wouldn't result in me being a pancake. "Pretty good for a Jharhin." he complimented. I nodded in agreement. A childhood of climbing trees and no broken bones does count for something. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself." I replied.

"So, which way d'you live?" I pointed in the general direction of downtown. I didn't like the location, but it was the best I could afford. "It'll take a while to get there, unless..." He began to laugh. "No, I can't fly you there. I'm no transport." I sighed in disapointment. "Well, I guess we'll have to walk, then." Heading towards my place, we started talking about our childhoods. The idea of beeing an orphan saddened me. My dad hadn't been the warmest father, but at least he had been there.

"Everyone should be asleep, so it's probably safe to go in." I announced and opened the front door. Once again I was reminded of the barreness of the building. I really need to get a better job. Finally, we got to the top floor and my apartment.

At least Soluun wasn't a girl, otherwise I might of died of embarassment. I'd been playing the video games late last night and had forgotten to clean up. Soluun headed towards the kitchen and I followed. "You hungry? I've got a bunch of leftovers." Immediately, he began eating like a famine had been declared for the next ten years.

"You don't get much food, do you?" I asked. He shook his head. "And the food I do get, is either stolen, caught, or picked out of the trash." Realizing I hadn't told him where he could sleep, I told him he could take the couch. The thing looked like it was fifty years old, but it wouldn't collapse and it was soft.

"At least late shift means they won't expect me till early afternoon." I set my alarm for seven and jumped in my bed. "First thing I do tomorrow is a bit of tidying up." I decided when an especially foul odor hit my nose. "I may look like a cat, but I don't want any rodents in my house."

[Ultimate Charizard]

Im getting Tired of this.

I take it this is another RPG full of potential that has been abandoned? I know im just as guilty as i havent posted either but i seriously dont see where to take it without some input, mainly from the Creator. And i now notice Razor has Started a new RPG. Does this mean this one has been forgotten?

I dont want this to sound like a threat but things are going to change. This Forum has been my online home for over 2 Years now and in all honesty its the only reason i come back on this site every single day. Im not letting it die off because a few people cant manage their time. If you arent going to post, dont join.

[RaZoR LeAf]

I haven't forgotten it, it's just I don't have net access at home for a while. Hopefully i''ll have it back in about a week, maybe more. THEN, i'll get back on track.

E - I'm posting this from uni btw.

[Samchu]

Mark
~~~~

I groaned as I slowly came to. At first, I was blinded by the light in the room but as my eyes adjusted I realised it was still dark outside, but I wasn't outside anymore. There was something beneath me, soft and warm and comfortable. I closed my eyes once again and embraced it. Maybe it was all a dream...

When I opened my eyes again I saw this pale face in front of me. I sot back in surprised and this seemed to startle her. "W-what, what are you?"
She looked at me confused, "I am...the same as you."
"Yeah right. I'm a human, a HUMAN, you are no human."
"I did not think that humans had wings and tails."
Looking back I saw my tail flicking back and forth behind me. I was slightly saddened to discover that I wasn't what I thought I was and that it hadn't at all been a dream. "What am I then?" I asked.
"If I am right, then you are a Navari."
"Right...okay, I'll get you to explain that concept to me once my head stops hurting." I grabbed the glass of water from beside me. "So where rae the other two?"
"Talking. What about I don't know."
I nodded and sat up, flexing the new muscles behind me, I can't deny how empowering it felt.

I took the time that I had to take a good look at this person whom I was speaking to. Now that she shock of seeing her for the first time was gone I was able to admire those features that made her seem...special. Her hair had such interesting life and colour to it and her skin was almost shining, she was, in truth, actually quite beautiful and she had the most enticing eyes I'd ever seen.
"My name's Mark," I said finally. "What's yours?"

[RaZoR LeAf]

Thick black coat over his head, blocking out any stray beams of light that may have escaped the already thick blinds covering windows, Fethrin walked through the dusty, dark corridors of his contact's workplace. The door was closed, but through the glass, the vampire could see a middle aged man stopping over a microscope, gingerly feeding a sheet of parchment under the lens. He pushed through the door, the man barely breathed a sign that he had noticed.

Fethrin took a deep breath of the air. It was older and dustier than the sewers, but it still had an air of richness.

"What do you want?" the man asked without looking up.

Fethrin dropped the coat and stretched his neck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small fragment of parchment that Ashram had given him. He placed it on the table next to the man. A hand reached out for it, and placed it under the lens.

"Where did you get this?" he asked. There was shock in his voice. Subtle shock, as though he were trying to mask it.

"Does it matter? Where's the rest of it?" Fethrin asked.

The man stood up, still holding the parchment in his hand. He took a pair of spectacles from his pocket and held the parchment close so he could read the strange symbols on it.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

"Of course." the man waited. Fethrin growled "It's from the Scrolls of Oshana, a crazed 4th century ruler who conquered most of Europe. More importantly, he was a Nosferatu, the only Nosferatu who came close to invoking the Rites of Oshana."

"These last few words, they same something about the Sun and Moon being in perfect alignment, but that's all. he rest is on the other scrolls.."

Fethrin had the man's neck in his hand within a split second. He beared his fangs and growled again.

"Where are the other scrolls?"

"They.. they're in the museum. It's the last night of their display, tomorrow morning they are being moved overseas. They're under the highest of security. Nobody can get to them."

Fethrin dropped the man, grabbed the parchment, threw his coat back on and turned to leave.

"No one living maybe, high security means high cost. I could do with something to eat tonight."

With that he left, returning to the sewers to find Ashram.

[Ultimate Charizard]

Ok im gonna gve this a kick in the bakside but first i need to know one thing.

WHAT BLOODY TIME IS IT!

Ive seen people posting that its almost the end of the night (that was before id even managed to get a first post in) or that its dawn, mainly to make their posts look better or dramatic except then the GM makes a post that still puts it in the middle of the night.
People i dont wanna start turning into an ogre or worse, TMM but we need to get things straight. When half the charachters are dependant on the Night then you cant rush the story all the way through in one post. We should always go by what the GM says, so ill wait till R_L can let me know.
Then ill be trying to revive this.