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Vamp (No working Title)

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Re: Vamp (No working Title)

Postby Commander Cross » Tue Jun 19, 2012 7:48 pm

I might be asking about any ladies who'd qualify as 'Tall, Dark and Bishoujo' in case you're wondering. :oops:
What are you selling? (is looking around!)
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Re: Vamp (No working Title)

Postby Blood Dancer » Tue Jun 19, 2012 7:58 pm

Commander Cross wrote:I might be asking about any ladies who'd qualify as 'Tall, Dark and Bishoujo' in case you're wondering. :oops:
What are you selling? (is looking around!)


Dude, no-one is selling anything. I am dismissing an idea that is generally sold.
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Re: Vamp (No working Title)

Postby Commander Cross » Tue Jun 19, 2012 8:00 pm

Blood Dancer wrote:
Commander Cross wrote:I might be asking about any ladies who'd qualify as 'Tall, Dark and Bishoujo' in case you're wondering. :oops:
What are you selling? (is looking around!)


Dude, no-one is selling anything. I am dismissing an idea that is generally sold.


@General

My bad.

@Madamoiselle :P

This is what I meant to ask, in fact!

We have more people like what the Link describes? :oops:
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Re: Vamp (No working Title)

Postby Ruliya » Thu Jun 28, 2012 3:56 pm

I'd almost forgotten about this xD Sorry. Chapter 3 seems to be the last I've written up, but I'll see if I can find chapter 4 in my notes somewhere.

Chapter 3

Rachel found herself being led down various hallways away from the conference room and what seemed, away from the ballroom too. They then encountered two large wooden doors barring their way, Rachel found it odd that there seemed to be two intricately carved wooden doors placed in the middle of a corridor, but she shrugged, the building seemed to be very old, maybe extra wings and parts had been added on in the past. Maybe this had once led to a secluded room of some sort? Of course this was all just conjecture; she had no real idea about any part of this ancient Viking Manor.

Her mysterious ‘kidnapper’ held onto both door handles and thrust them open with such force, she thought the doors would come off in his hands. Fortunately they didn’t, for they seemed centuries old; they were now fully open however and before she could take a glimpse past him down the hallway he turned around to look back at her, a smile wide on his face. His eyes seemed to have an evil glow about them now as well. His body posture looked, triumphant, with his arms held high in the air, almost as if he was trying to impart some importance to the corridor they were about to walk down. He then suddenly turned back around and walked through the open doors. He moved slower now though, and it didn’t take too long for Rachel to figure out why.

Hung upon the walls on either side were paintings, some that looked maybe five, six, possibly even seven hundred years old, others that looked rather new, some couldn’t have been more than thirty years old. Her vampiric eyes could easily spot the new paints, compared to the older, decayed paints used in the ancient portraits.

As slow as they were walking, she still only managed quick glances as they passed through. She noticed each painting on her right, man, woman, man, woman, man, man, plenty of faces, all looking quite elegant, each with their own significance, none of which Rachel knew, nor was anything explained by her apparent kidnapper.
She was suddenly startled when he spoke, broken away from staring at the faces, “Centuries of history, lost to ignorance,” his voice had a tone of disgust to it, “This new breed, they care not for what has come before them, only in what pittance lies in front of them.”

Rachel looked at him, his head hung low, almost as if all these faces bore holes into him, as if they crushed him under their combined pressure. A full minute passed before he looked up at her, his face still sombre.

“Wh...Who are they?” she dared to ask, shaking to the core. She hadn’t really wanted to interrupt him when he looked so solemn, but she felt she had to say something.

“They?” his toned questioned her entire being, “They...” he paused, sighing and shaking his mighty head, “The ignorance of the youthful,” waving his hand he walked forwards.

Rachel took one last look at the painting next to her, it was an elegant woman, with long black hair, the same vampiric blood red eyes that almost all vampires seemed to adorn, and she sat in a white satin dress, surrounded by darkness. She suddenly noticed he was moving on without her and hurried up to the end of the corridor. From there they walked down two flights of stairs. They were then presented with another large oak door, walking through it casually this time, she found herself in a small room, half of which was taken up by a musky, old looking bar, which was manned by a solitary person. He stood about six feet tall from his stance, and had long black hair, something Rachel was finding a lot in vampires. He wore a smart black pinstriped suit, and as they neared the bar he popped up two pints of larger onto the fine pine bar.

They sat on two plush seats, situated just in front of the bar proper. The guy clad in leather, the ‘kidnapper’ picked up one of the pints and downed it instantly, “Ah, cheers Karl,” he said nodding as he picked up the second pint and turned to face a very nervous Rachel, “Karl here never seems to fail me. He always turns up right when I need him!”

Sven laughed hard, his deep voice echoing in the small room, “Don’t listen to him,” he said to Rachel, before turning back around to Karl, “Now why don’t you do something useful eh? Get out a bottle of the ’85 for my guest here?”

Still chuckling to himself Karl turned around and reached up top, at the back of the bar, as he did Rachel noticed a long row of squares the perfect sizes for bottles of champagne. Most of the slots were empty, but he put his hand up to where three bottles nestled next to each other in their own squares. He pulled the bottle on the left out and gave it a wipe with a white cloth. He then expertly de-corked it, pulling out a fresh wine glass from underneath the bar and poured her a glass. The yellow fluid flowed perfectly to the line on the glass.

She thanked him as he pushed it towards her. She lifted it up to her nose, as Sven looked on, a small grin on his face. Her heightened vampiric senses instantly picked up the strong scent of tobacco. She swirled the glass twice before bringing it slowly to her lips and sipping it, the taste delighted her lips, teasing her tongue as it slipped down her throat. It was very sweet with heavy hints of oak. A wild smile crept onto her face, “I thought you said this was a bottle of ’85? These scents and tastes are strong, ancient, amazing!”

Sven lit a cigarette and laughed heartily, nodding, “Seventeen-eighty-five sweetheart, it’s an ancient French vintage, Clicquot I believe. Take another drink and enjoy yourself.”

Feeling more comfortable now after a few more sips, she turned to him with her drink in hand and asked him, “Why exactly did you bring me here?” she looked around the small, almost dingy looking bar, the lights were dimmed and aside from the three of them, the room was empty.

He looked at her, his dark eyes seemed to stare into her soul, she gasped, moving backwards slightly in her chair as he spoke, “I sensed something in you childe. Your destiny lies in other directions,” his face fell sombre as he sighed and shook his head slightly.

Taken aback Rachel didn’t know how to respond to his words, she quickly drank the rest of her champagne in one gulp placing the empty glass on the bar, which was instantly refilled by Karl.

He suddenly laughed softly at her silence, and the shocked look on her face. He reached out an arm, “Worry not little one, true destinies are never fully realised until too late,” his laugh became even more hearty and louder, “Indeed, I doubt you will even remember these words once you leave this room.”

She looked at her drink, and drank half of it in another big gulp, before worryingly looking back up at him, “I don’t...Is that why I’m here now? De...destiny?”

“Here in Stockholm now? Perhaps,” he stroked his beard, “Perhaps. But that is not the question you should be asking right now.”

Her jaw visibly dropped and her eyes widened even more, her astonishment and disbelief was absolute. Her head tilted to one side, the word ‘what’ quietly slipped from her lips, formed as a question.

His hand, resting on the bar, opened up to accept a fresh pint from Karl, lifting it up to his lips, he took a large swig before he spoke again, “I’ll give you some advice childe,” he drank some more, then looked once more deeply into her eyes, and she could do nothing but stare back, “You should not be searching in Germany, you should stay here and take in the sights, travel northward perhaps. Uppsala is nice this time of year.”

Her face remained a picture of confusion, mouth agape; silently she mouthed the names of both places to herself.

The only answer he gave in response to her confusion was, “Germany leads Dorana to his destiny, you’d be wise not to follow him, he’ll only lead you away from where you need to be.”

Before she could answer, the door behind them opened suddenly, scaring her. She jumped up and turned around to see who it was. To her dismay the person who walked in was none other than the Poison Queen herself.

She stood up and quickly curtsied, it was the only thing she could think to do. Flustered, she offered up her seat and the Poison Queen giggled lightly, surprising Rachel to the extent that she stood still as she walked up to her, her white gown flowing along the ground behind her.

“You are Rachel, yes?” she asked looking up to the taller, younger woman. Rachel silently nodded an agreement, “I can see what Dorana sees in you.”

Rachel’s face turned red as the Poison Queen brushed past her and lifted herself into the chair opposite Sven. He smiled at her in a way that showed familiarity that made Rachel tilt her head and look at the two of them strangely.

“Dorana’s looking for you by the way,” the Poison Queen said casually, looking over to her, “If you hurry along the corridor out of this door to your left and follow it down to the end and take a right, and then the following left, you’ll find the main corridor leading to the ball room.”

Rachel stared at her once more before realising the meaning of her words and quickly curtseyed once more and then curtseyed to Sven saying thank you before heading to the door. She then suddenly realised she’d forgotten someone, turned around, “Oh! And thank you Karl for the amazing drink,” she said before finally ducking out of the door, she ran as fast as she could in her gorgeous scarlet dress and her flash black high heels back to the ball room.

Luckily Dorana didn’t notice as Rachel slipped back in amongst the crowds, too engrossed was he with his conversations with his fellow ‘agents’ The Shadow and Zangief, not surprisingly though, the Chio twins were no longer around.

She wandered over to the group trying not to look too embarrassed.

“Ah, there you are sweetie,” Dorana welcomed her in open arms, “I thought you’d gone back to our room. Seeing as you disappeared from the main room upstairs.”

“Oh, I did,” she laughed tentatively trying not to give things away to give anything away, “It all got too much to me, but that’s okay, I wasn’t able to keep up anyway.”

“Ooh and who is this beauty, eh?” Zangief exclaimed laughing.

“This,” he said twirling her around, showing her off as though she were some ancient, valuable trinket, “Is my salacious new bride, Rachel.”

She blushed and turned away slightly and all three of them laughed. They spent the rest of the night talking, telling stories of their recent and past exploits, making Rachel feel even more out of place as she had nothing to add, and did nothing but smile the whole time, barely saying a word, and by the time sunrise came and she had to retire to bed she felt almost... unwanted.
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