Badass Vampire RP M+

[Vahalior]

To those in the RP, please don't use the M+ rating as an excuse to go over the top. Its there simply as a precaution because the RP, due to its nature has the potential to go into that territory. Its not because it must, or should go into that level rating.[/b]

Name: Arai

Age: 33

Race: Strigoi

Sex: Male

Apperance:
Arai is relatively new to being a Strigoi, and hence is body is still relatively human. His veins are somewhat darker than normal, almost black, and his skin very pale. His pupils are slightly murky, and his irises are a dull lifeless grey in colour. Strands of thick black hair fall across his face in matted locks almost malevolently. He wears a somewhat worn black trench coat which is frayed slightly at the edges, and usually wears black clothes beneath that. There is always a smell of freshly turned earth around him from his preferred haunts.

Equipment:
Sterling L2A3 - world.guns.ru/smg/sterling_l2a3_1.jpg A reconditioned rifle found in the gutter unusable. While he isn't sure how he knew how to fix it, he did, so the weapon was restored to functionality. The trigger mechanism sometimes jams, as does the magazine, however it is generally quickly repaired.
Knife- A large sharp combat knife. Nothing overly impressive about it.
Molotov Cocktails- Vampires are generally afraid of fire and with good reason. Arai keeps a few of these handy to deal with any vampires who stray into his haunts and cause a nuisance of themselves.

Weapon Aptitude: Sub-machine guns

Blood Magics:
Icy Aura: Causes the tempreature in the area around Arai to drop massively, moisture in the air may freeze instantly, and any ground water also becomes ice. While humans can tolerate this condition for a short time, it is extremely uncomfortable and can cause frost bite in minutes.
Ice Torrent: Arai can use his icy aura to create a torrent of ice he can launch at his foes.
Ice Tomb: Arai can, with considerable cost of blood, encase an oppontent in ice with a simple flick of his fingers.

Speacial:
BeDlAm!: Arai can create an aura of pure madness, based around his own shattered, desperate mind. Humans nearby suffer varying forms of insanity, from psychopathic rages to catatonia, these usually fade after a few hours. Has a lesser effect on supernaturals, but will effect them in some way.

Notes:
*Lost most memories when he became a Strigoi. He vaguely remembers his time as a vampire, and has even less memory of his time as a human
* Alternative food source: Recently Buried corpses
* Reason for becoming Strigoi: Disgraced as a vampire.
* As a vampire, Arai was extremely arrogant and cocky. Put simply, he was drunk on the power he now weilded. For a time his arrogance treated him well, and his daring acts won him much favour and respect from older vampires. However, when his fortunes turned, his arrogance was remembered and no one would assist him either. After commiting a grevious (now forgotten) sin, a bounty was placed upon his head, and he was hunted like a wild animal.

Eventually, he found a place in the cities he was not hunted, the graveyards. With this discovery, and any traces of his arrogance removed, he began feeding on the cold blood of the recently dead. Still fearful of attracting the attention of ther vampires, he rarely moves away from the graveyards, though may feed on anyone who enters where he lurks and hide the body.


IC shortly dudes.

[Kaisar]

Name: Raven Anchiara
Age: 24
Race: Vampire
Sex: Female
Apperance: Raven has long waist length black hair which when let down from her pony-tail is wavy. Her complexion is pale and her ears are strangely pointy and her eyes are a deep amber hue making them look like gold. Her build is willowy and she has always been tall standing at 6’2”. Normally she is seen when around wearing a white light wrap over tied at the waist with a white sash. When moving among the masses however she changes her white cloths for more casual attire worn by people, meaning a pair of jeans a t-shirt and a bandana over her head that covers her ears and a black trench-coat. Raven even forgoes her usual bare footed approach and wears boots. She also wears a set of silver bangles on her right wrist and silver anklet around her right ankle.
Equipment:
Throwing Knives
(The two sets of three throwing knives are carried in the pouch seen beneath them there are two which are put on her belt either side of her two star pouches)
www.weaponmasters.com/images//products/BRK_2002/UC926L.jpg
Knife 5 5/16 inch when closed. (case with it also)
www.weaponmasters.com/images//products/BRK_2002/UC945L.jpg
Browning BDM (first pic)
world.guns.ru/handguns/hg109-e.htm
Throwing Stars
(Three sets of the first pair and a set of eight of the second type of Throwing Star. The first and second sets are held in separate pouches on her belt when she’s out hunting)
www.weaponmasters.com/images//products/MC_2002/MCFC-210-2L.jpg
www.weaponmasters.com/images//products/MC_2002/FC-205L.jpg
Weapon Aptitude: Raven's aptitude i for hand thrown projectiles such as darts, knives and stars. Her accuracy with the weapons is dangerous and almost always deadly, if she misses consider yourself one lucky bastard and thank God for the divine intervention.
Blood Magic:
Shape Change Raven:- She becomes her name sake a large black feathered raven. The only difference is that the Ravens eyes are gold.
Shape Change Panther:- She becomes a large Panther that is like any Panther powerful and fast. Like the Raven she is black in this form with Gold eyes. Only her fangs are perhaps that little more sharper and this form cannot be maintained as long as the others.
Shape Change Cobra:- She transforms into a black Cobra with white markings upon her hood. She maintains a length equal to her height and like her other forms has golden eyes. In this Form she is swift and deadly with a venomous bite.
Regeneration (Normal):- Basic regeneration meaning by expending a little blood she can heal minor scratches instantly but deeper wounds take longer. (But not as long as it would for a human)
Speed/Strength Enhance (Normal):-[/i] Like most Vampires Raven can increase her speed and strength by expending some of the blood taken from her victims.
Special:
Form Maintain:-[/i] because Raven is so good at changing her physical form she can maintain her altered forms longer then most Vampires halving the amount of blood she uses to transform.
Notes:
-Raven is mastering at altering her form well she already has moderate skill with the transformation of three forms. Those being the Raven, the Panther and the Cobra.
-She likes to wander in dark places and is often heard singing softly to herself. As a joke some of the other Vampires refer to her as ‘Siren’ because of how she can draw a curious person into the shadows with the sound of her voice. Literally like the mythical sea killers singing them to their deaths.
-Raven has a great dislike for humanity even before she became a Vampire she detested it and when given the chance to become as she now is took it. Killing humans is something Raven takes great pleasure in often dragging out the deaths of her victims for hours or even days before finishing them.

[Vahalior]

Arai rested in the dimly illuminated tomb he had taken residence in. Slouching in a coffee stained, torn easy chair, feet resting on a table that wobbled slightly if he moved, easy closed as he listened to the battery powered radio set atop a coffin he had removed from the vault. The area was more akin to a childs den, random pieces of wood and metal were littered around the dusty floor.

"The city government has issued a warning stating Vampire activity has been reported in the area, civilians are asked to report any and all unusual sitings to the appropriate authorities." The cheery voice of Susan, a local radio news reader in Las Vegas filled the air, spoken with a casuality as if she had known vampires truely exsisted since the beginning of her life. Arai simply held his head in his hands, the thin veil that seperated his world, the vampires world, from the human world had been torn aside and humanity was now well aware of the predators in its midst, and humanity was scared.

Arai took a casual glance at the Sterling L2A3 sub-machine gun he had been working on, on the floor in bits with various parts of its inner workings strewn around it. If humanity was becoming aggressive, he was in danger, and he needed to protect himself. Sighing, he slid off his chair and knelt before the damaged rifle, his fingers expertly sliding over the parts strewn about the floor. There was work to be done, and if riots spread as they had in other cities were discovered, he wouldnt have much time.


OOC PLOT NOTE: All the older vampires who 'run and rule' the younger vampires have fled Las Vegas, or are preparing to. You are a younger vampire and are remaining here to wither the storm. There will be an obvious power vacuum caused by this, and general confusion as to whom should co-ordinate the resistance against the human mobs. Going it alone is near suicide, as the humans are moving in huge swarms.

[Kaisar]

Soft pitiful moans echoed through the dank slimy tunnels beneath the city. They rose and fell like a breath, before climbing to a brutal wail and finally a scream that chilled to the soul. When all grew silent all that could be heard was the steady trickle of water as it flowed form the streets above.

In her room Raven stood surveying her latest work. The man lay dead now, his life blood gone. She’d had fun with this one flaying the flesh from his hands and working her way up a little at a time until the surface skin had been removed from both his hands and feet. There was even skin missing from the flesh of his chest. Body still warm she smiled dragging a finger through the blood that clung to his skin. When she’d taken him Raven had left him with nothing. Strapping him to the table and beginning her ‘fun’. The man had lasted three days of her playing. Her methods allowed for the prolonging of her victims but she got hungry and felt it better to end it.

Sighing she unstapped the body and dragged it out of the room tossing it inot the waer below the path and watched as it flowed away with the sewage. The smell had ceased bothering her long ago and it served its purposes. Even hunting dogs had trouble tracking down anyone’s scent in this vile place. She smiled picking a slimy leaf from her gown and returned to her room.

Bored with being underground she changed out of her casual attire and into her street gear. Once dressed Raven made sure her weapons were concealed beneath her coat and left walking away from her ‘home and stopped. Quicker then seemed possible her body changed growing slimmer and more black until she was in her cobra form. The snake hissed once and then slipped into the water swimming with uncanny speed up the water outlet and into the streets above.

[Archangel]

Name: Atta Sunset
Age: 39
Race: Pure
Sex: Male

Appearance: Atta is an obvious Pure vampire, it can easily be seen by his looks. Tall and dark of eye and body, he's gaunt and very very pale. His ears are sharply pointed, almost like a bat's, and has strange ridged nostrils, which go mostly unnoticed unless looked for. His pupils can narrow into cat-like slits in his almond-shaped dark brown eyes, and he has permanant fangs that can noticeably protrude. Short, raven-black hair and a long neck, with a kind of sinuous grace, complete his facial features. His body, as was said earlier, is gaunt and tall. He looks almost too thin, skeletal, with long, thin fingers and strange feet that don't seem the proper size. He usually prefers dark clothes, long leather jackets and dark dress pants, with a usually dark shirt worn underneath. Sometimes he wears a cap on his head, mainly to hide the ears, if he needs to go out in public. And he always, ALWAYS wears gloves.

Equipment:
*Stolen from a policeman he killed a couple years ago, this shotgun is his primary and most prized weapon. He wields it like a surgeon, able to take off limbs and even decapitate foes, if at close range. He mainly uses it for protection, however, and yet is very very good with it. (The top one in the webpage) world.guns.ru/shotgun/sh24-e.htm
*As added protection, he took this handgun with him when he drank the blood of the cop those years ago. It's a semi-automatic, Police special, .40 with a short muzzle and an excellent rate of fire. world.guns.ru/handguns/hg165-e.htm
*As a last-ditch effort, especially when dealing with other vampires, Atta resorts to this weapon he found at a knife shop in downtown Las Vegas. Based off of the Blade movies, this stainless steel "glaive" has been sharpened to a more useful point and is actually excellent for slicing off pieces of people or vampires, if the need arises. www.weaponmasters.com/?ID=WEAPONS&FDX=&FMAX=&SORT=&ITEM=FX-19912&TTAB=ADDITIONAL_IMAGES

Weapon Aptitude: Atta is incredibly skilled at using the shotgun. He is very mediocre with a blade, even though he carries one, and definitely prefers his shotgun.

Blood Magics:
*Decay: Atta uses a varying amount of stored blood to charge this spell, which effectively rots away certain parts of an attacker's body on a permanent basis. Large amounts of blood used can cause a hand to rot and become covered in gangrenous sores in mere seconds, or a small amount of blood can be used to cause a finger to become rotted within minutes. It all depends upon usage.
*Illusion: Atta can create anything from simple auditory hallucinations to full-blown visual illusions, depending again on the amount of blood used. He can't maintain it for very long, but it can be very useful in a fight or when on the run.
*Claws: If needed, he can create long, dark claws on the tips of his fingers, long and straight and not like anything in the natural world. They are almost shaped like carpenter's nails, ending in a sharp point. These make for a nasty hand-to-hand fight with Atta.

Speacial: While it's not really a special power, like most of those listed here, it is unique to him, and therefore should go here. Atta has deadened nerve cells in his entire skin and musculure system. His body barely, if ever, reacts to pain. A cut from a knife, a gunshot to a muscle, anything like that can barely be felt. This can be a blessing, because in a fight, the ability to work through pain can be extremely helpful. But it can also be a curse, because he never knows where he is wounded, and can never help himself, unless he sees the actual wound.

Notes: The most important thing about Atta is the fact that he is, and has been for approximately 6 years, a Leper. He has full-blown leprosy. His sores and lesions and tumors have strangely stayed under his clothes, and for this reason he always wears long sleeves, long pants, and gloves. His face has been mostly saved from the progress of the disease. Leprosy is the greatest vampire bane. With leprosy, the vampire body cannot regenerate the skin lost to the disease, and therefore it means a certain true death for the vampire. Atta's body is rotting away, deteriorating before his very eyes, and he doesn't have much longer to live. So far, he has lost all the regenerative abilities in his body that are directly caused by the leprosy (he can still regenerate cuts, scrapes, and breaks), and his toes are completely gone, as well as the fact that his fingers on his left hand are starting to go. He has sores all over his body that are hideous to look at, and even a couple lumps of growth. Overall, his leprosy is killing him slowly, but it won't be long now before he dies a true death.

IC Later

[Anarchy87]

Name: Nicholai "Raptor" Montana
Age: in his mid twenty's
Race: Human
Apperance:
The Vampire Slayer stands 6'1". He is clad in all black, wearing a kevlar vest, with leather strapped over, securing it. A leather coat hides a shitload of weaponry. A scarf is wrapped around his neck (preventing vampire bites), as a Sterling chain is over THAT, silver crucifix dangling from it. Intimidating and dangerous, a black cowboy hat on his head makes people underestimate him...
he cherishes it saying it is a reminder from his youth.

Weapons:
Equipment: www.twilightarmouries.ca/SmallArms/Submachineguns/Image2.gif
While it looks like a toy ,this gun of Belgium design can shred kevlar from upto 200 meters

Two auto loading .45 call pistols, wich he lovingly dubbed "Fate and Destiny" both are Night black and have thier name engraved with silver on the side of the barrle
The Gauntlet: a concealed 'blade', tipped in Anti-coagolant fluid this is more a last resort and attached to his left arm. using a spring it unsheats itself with in a second.
Brass knuckle: a silver colord brass knuckle, a cross is engraved above every finger.
Faith: A silver sword forged from a Holy artifact. the crucifix used is still seen worked into the handle.it is a highly detailed weapon.(it is sheated on the back)
a Pump action shot gun: "it was time for me to get back to basics.." kept in a black Leather holster besides the Sword.
A few handgrenades, and (small) antipersonel Mines incase it is wiser to flee..

Weapon Aptitude: Raptors aptitude is with gunpowder..and lots of it. he simply loves the power of the trigger.
(deadly accurate with the guns, mediocore with the sword. and even if he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. he packs enough ammo to fund a small war)
Blood Magics: None

Ability: As if by Divine intervention, Raptor can sense those that have been stained by evil: Vampires and those that have straid from the path. Like a sheperd he will guide them back into thier place..

In the only way he can.

Special: Divine Intervention
As if god almighty himself has been watching Over the Raptor's shoulder. he has been gifted by Divine intervention. a surge of power flowing through his veigns. his body emits a brilliant white light. brighter then even the sun itselfs. burning Vampires, and blinding others.
-he will get this later in the rp, as turnin vampire would take to bloody long >.>-
Notes: Member of the Dark Avengers, a splinter group of vampire hunters. most have lost thier faith in god or simply Believe god wants them to fight and take back what was rightfully thiers..thier life
-he uses customized bullets, Hollow points filled with Anti-Coagolant to be precise. In the machine gun Raptor alternate's with AP and Hollow Point Anti Coagolant rounds, one shot at a time.

[matt]

Name: Malachai Black
Age: 64 (looks 21)
Race: Tra'Noi
Sex: Male
Appearance: Malachai Black in retrospect. He is not so old, has longish black hair, is 6'7" 220lbs. and is clad in black. He keeps the hat, and is the stuff of nightmares.

Equipment:[/color]
Knives - Malachai carries an assortment of sharp shit on his person at all times.
Wakizashi - Should the need arise, Malachai can draw wakizashis from his trenchcoat.
Nodachi - The four nodachis strapped to Malachai's back are his prized weapons, blades stained with the deaths of countless.

Weapon Aptitude: Swords

Blood Magics:
Track Vampire - This ability is what vampires fear from the Tra'Noi. They know where you are if you are a vampire within a 350ft radius. There is no where to run, no where to hide.
Rovina di vampiro - This is an ability Malachai has practiced with his nodachis. He uses his blood, the blood of a Tra'Noi, to coat his blade, and to strike a vampire. The blood eats away at the wound, and any attempt at regeneration is futile.
Occhio di Jaguan - "The Eye of the Jaguan" or "Jaguan Eye" is the ability to paralyze a target. Vampires fear Malachai Black for this ability. But humans fear this ability for they are not only paralyzed, but boiled from the inside out as well. Malachai heats up their blood, and they die in five minutes. Five minutes of torture.

Special:
*Quattro Uomo Armato - To see this is to be in awe before you die. This is an ability Malachai learned from a book written by the Shak'rah monks of Fuedal Japan. This is the ability "Four Armed Man", and is why Malachai has four nodachis.

Note:
*Malachai Black is resistant to projectiles. What this means is, you can empty a sub-machine magezine into his body, and he will say "Haha... that tickles."

[demented]

Name: Remy Morticus
Age: 21
Race: Vampire
Sex: Female
Appearance: Remy Clad in black spandex pants tucked into black combat boots and a belly top (as shown) Remy's skin is frighteningly pale, and her hair is a deep brown and is mostly pulled back in a ponytail, her bangs framing her face. The only color on her body are her eyes, which are a celery green and almost seem to glow, filled with thoughts of revenge.
Equipment:
Beretta 92FS (fifth from top.. the silver one) Remy carries two of these in the gun holsters on her thighs. They are her babies, and she is deadly accurate with them thanks to countless hours of training.

Modified T-5 Taser This is no ordinary taser.. It is modified to not only stun but burn the victim. It is most unpleasant to vampires.

Kahr K9 This small gun is concealed in Remy's boot, a backup.. just in case.

Delta Fighter A simple combat knife which is tucked in Remy's combat boots. She uses it mostly as a last resort.

Weapon Aptitude: Handguns
Blood Magics:
Dream: Remy can use a small amount of stored blood to cause a person to believe they are simply dreaming. It is not effective on Vampires, but on the poor humans who's blood she has to use to survive, it is a good, non-traumatic way for them to wake up and simply think "Man I need to lay off on the pork rinds before bed!"
Payback: If someone so much as looks at Remy the wrong way, or if they injure her during a battle, she feels the blood inside her start to boil, and she starts to glow a forest green. It is much like a berserk attack, all her stats rise for a period of time, usually until she finishes you off... Or she can't afford to lose anymore blood.
Fear: Remy feeds off the pain and fear in herself and her opponent, twisting their mind to believe their worst fears are coming true. The weaker the mind, the easier this is. The drawback to this move is that to make it work, Remy has to re-live all the pain and fear in her own life, which is sometimes distracting..
Black Void: Creating balls of black energy in her hands and using them to throw at the victim, or simply adding a little more power to her punch, this is Remy's most used move. It takes up a small amount of blood, but has a deadly effect.
Special: Sweet Revenge: Through this special move, Remy can transform herself into a Demon of Destruction (only exception is her eyes are still green). In this form her power increases tenfold, and she is almost unstoppable. After using this, Remy is tired to the point of near death, thus it is rare that she uses it, if ever.
Notes:

Remy was turned into a vampire when she was 16 years old. The man sucked her almost dry, raped her, and then decided to force her to digest some of his own blood. It only took a small amount, she was near death anyways, and soon she was waking up with vampires telling her what had happened.

The strange part about all this was that a few months later, out popped a baby girl, a half breed vampire, since her mother was still human upon conception. Remy cares for her daughter still, and loves her despite how she came to be. But most nights Remy is forced to send her to a friends house.. For she herself is on a hunt... A hunt to find the vampire that raped her and bleed him dry.

Because she was victim to a vampire attack at such a young age, and she had so much more to live for, Remy never kills her human victims. She siphons off small amounts of blood from them.. Enough to make them pass out, or simply be dizzy, then makes them believe it was all a dream. Remy believes they are better off that way... Then they won't always have that fear stalking in the back of their mind.. Then they won't end up like her.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Vittoria! Vittoria are you still sleeping?" Remy called to her four year old daughter as she pulled on a long trench coat and checked to make sure her weapons were all in place. The child walked down a set of spiral stairs, her hair matted together from sleep, her eyes dreary. Vittoria was a special child.. She was completely able to go out in sunlight, and her fangs were hardly visible unless you looked closely. The only inkling you would have as to her Fathers origin is the fact that her skin was very pale, and she had an appetite for blood. As a half-vampire, she could survive for long periods of time without blood, much like a snake can feed only once a week and be perfectly satisfied.

Vittoria, or as she was nicknamed, Tory, walked to her mother, and Remy thanked God once more that she did not look like her father in the least bit. There were small things that would remind Remy of where the child came from, but other than that she was the spitting image of her young mother. "Oh look at you, you're hair is a mess! Run and grab a brush, you have to sleep at Nina's tonight." Remy shooed her daughter off to get a brush, and Tory did so happily. "Will Bryan be there this time?" she asked while skipping into a near by bathroom.

Bryan was Nina's six year old child, another half breed, and Vittoria's best friend. Nina herself was not a vampire, but she had made the mistake of dating one once. She was as surprised as the doctors when they took a look at her newborn son.. fangs were already poking out of his gums. The two women met by chance one night when Bryan tried to take a bite out of Tory, who instantly slapped him and took a bite out of him instead. Ever since the children were inseparable, and the mothers became best friends. Remy was grateful to still be connected to the living world through her daughter and Nina, and she was certainly grateful to have someone watch over the little one when she was out on her feeds.

"I'm almost positive he will be." Remy called to Tory, answering her question.

Twenty minutes later the two were tying up their shoes and strapping on Tory's overnight bag. "Did you remember your school work? Nina said she would help you with that math you are having trouble with." Tory nodded and finished tying her pink sneakers. In an effort to give her daughter some kind of normalcy, or chance in the real world, she home schooled the girl, as did Nina with Bryan. Vittoria was unmistakably bright, and was already way past her age level in schooling. Remy liked to think she got it from her mother.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I'll come get her later Nina. I don't know how long I'll be tonight.." Remy called as she started to leave the apartment of her friend.

"Don't worry about it Remy. She's always welcome here.. You know that." Nina waved her hand at the vampire and shoved her out the door. "Try not to kill anybody.." she said, half-joking.

"I never do.." Remy muttered as she shut the door. "Not yet anyways.." she added once she was away from the apartment door, her eyes glowing with the thought of vengeance, thinking about the one man she could bring herself to kill. And with that she disappeared into the night, looking for someone drunk enough to not question their waking up in a dark alley.

(OOC: hope everything is alright still lemme know if it isn't and I'll change it... Just an idea I had and sorta ran with...)

[Vahalior]

Arai craddled the restored L2A3 in his hands. It was heavier than he had of imagined, and in places slightly rough. That said, the trigger mechanism and loading mechanism were working fine, and a single bullet now waited to be launched down the makeshift targetting range in the tomb he called his home. He lined the sights up over a skull at the other end of the tomb, before exhaling and gently squeezing the trigger. The weapon literally lept in his hands, the case being ejected on a stream of gas from the chamber and the bullet slamming into the skull, disintegrating it insantly. Taking a second to respond, a faint grin began to form on Arais face as he filled with the sense of achievement.

[Archangel]

As the sun set in the far corner of the city, Atta Sunset walked out into the shadows that accompanied his namesake and turned crisply to the right. His tall, gaunt figure moved silently down the shadowy street, his body darkly clad, his gloves pulled on tight, and his cap pulled down over his face. He avoided the sunlight easily, the last dying rays not even nearing his dark body as it made its silent way through the streets of Las Vegas. There were a lot of people on the street, and this wasn't even downtown or by the Strip. It was a little backwater slum of the city, inhabited by pimps, whores, drug dealers and card dealers. And yet there was always somebody on the streets, even if it wasn't a tourist looking for a good slot machine or a nice game of Blackjack. The tourist around here were usually looking for something a little more sordid than that. And tonight...they would get it.

I guess nobody heard the news. Atta thought to himself as he passed countless dealers and gigolos on the street. The news report had warned about the possibility of vampires, and everyone knew what vampires did to a person. But hey...Atta lived off of the stupidity of some people. That's how he survived in this new world, where everyone suspected everyone else at night, and the atmosphere was intensely different from how it had been merely years ago. A hundred years ago, Atta, with his leprosy and all, could have walked down a street at night without a single eye turning suspiciously in his direction, could have ducked into an alleyway and had his way with any number of victims without a scream to be heard. And nobody would cry "vampire" when he was done. Now, however, it was wholly different.

His thoughts a bit morbid, even for a member of the undead, Atta ducked into a nearby alley and crouched down in the shadow of a dumpster to think. Well, he thought to himself, at least I don't have much longer in this world.

And it was true. The young vampire, who had been turned only 12 years ago, truly did not have long left on this Earth. Leprosy was the vampire's greatest bane, the only disease vampires could be infected with, and the most horrible. Atta didn't even like to think about it anymore, and yet whenever he was feeling morbid, he instantly considered his condition. His toes on one foot...completely rotted away. His fingers on his left hand were going next. He couldn't feel the sores, scabrous wounds, or pulsing tumors that were growing all along his skin, and even down into his muscle tissue...but he could see them when he took off the clothes. They revolted him, the gangrenous spots of skin stinking like rotting flesh, the sores openly shedding pus-white liquid, from where he wasn't even sure, considering his body was in fact undead. And sometimes, the wounds on his chest wept real blood, blood he had been storing from a recent feed, blood that he should be using to stay undead. It had been a shameful waste, to see it eeking out of his scabby wounds like a normal human's blood would, and it sickened him. But like he said, he didn't have long. The disease, from whence it came he was completely unsure, had hibernated in his body for a long time, and the transformation into a vampire had only activated it. Now, he had only a few more years to "live". Soon, his face would become covered with the sores. His body parts, especially his appendages, would begin to drop off. And then...then he would be too far gone. The gangrene would overtake him, the body would fall apart, and he would die a horrible death. The only good thing was, because of the disease, he couldn't feel a damn thing. It was like his entire body had gone numb. Not even pain registered anymore. He could feel his internal organs, could feel anything not directly linked to his skin. But his skin and his muscles...they were gone to him.

A whore and her attempted john were standing right outside of his alleyway, mere feet away from him. But he just...didn't feel like taking them. He couldn't feel it tonight. His thoughts...they were just too morbid. As the john walked away, obviously not interested, the lady of the night leaned against the building, obviously pissed and bored all at once. Atta stared at her, his eyes tracing their way down her body, over her round breasts and her plump ass. He didn't even find her attractive anymore. Weren't vampires supposed to seduce women, to drive them wild with lust and then steal their blood in the midst of their own sexual gratification? Not like he could do that anymore. His manhood had become just like the rest of his body: covered in sores and rotting openly. With a deep sigh, Atta stood up. Might as well catch this one...get it over with. And so, even though he didn't really feel like it, he darted out, grabbed the girl deftly around the mouth and waist, and pulled her back into the alley. No one would notice one missing whore for at least the rest of the night....

***************************************************

Satiated, Atta Sunset left the body hidden in the dumpster. He had drained her mostly dead, but had not infected her with vampirism. No, this one would wake up in a day or two, weakened and sick, and rush to a hospital, where they would give her nutrients, water, and massive doses of anti-vampiric agents. Wiping his mouth with his gloved hand, Atta continued his walk down the now very dark street, heading towards a local vampire establishment that he knew of nearby. His irises narrowed into cat-like slits, and he frowned with displeasure. Might as well have some company on a night like this. And nobody really knew he was a leper, so they wouldn't kick him out. Ahhh well...

Full of blood now, the vampire made his way through the slums of Las Vegas, heading for The Pit.

[Kaisar]

Raven slithered out of the sewer and onto the surface street. Moving at boot level in the shadows none of those brave enough to walk the night noticed her as she slid past. Her serpentile senses could taste thier fear, lust, drunkeness and even a few smelt deliciously of death. However she was ful after her feeding and wouls not need another for a good day or two. Right now she was more interested ni what news she could gather. Romours had reached her down in her den that the word was out and even as she listened she heared what they whipsered about. it seemed the word was definatly out and fear was stronger then any other feeling.
So fearful... I love it. She coiled ehr way up a light pole and changed shape then into her raven form. Her avian eyes watching people continue to move about oblivious to the dangers that surrounded them.
I will enjoy the day humanity ends and rest for eternity in blissful oblivion with that memory.

[Archangel]

Regardless of who you were, what station you were in life, and whether you were dead or not, The Pit was an...interesting place. Interesting not really being a strong enough word for it. More like...weird. A weird place. Inhabited by both the undead and the living alike, those whose blood still pumped in their veins were unknowing that, of all the people in the room, at least 8 or 9 were likely to kill you in a heartbeat and drink your blood. The vampires, however, did no such thing on club grounds. There was an unspoken rule with the manager of the establishment, a vampire himself, although one whose blood magic made him appear just as human as the rest of the living. No killing while in The Pit, or even right outside. If you wanted a little snack, or even a new recruit, you got him or her drunk, brought him or her home, and did whatever you liked there. There would be no feeding, no battling, and certainly no use of powers in the club at any time.

Atta arrived at a quarter to twelve, his cap still pulled low over his face. He walked down a short flight of stairs, and knocked on the door to the establishment. An eyehole opened, and a gruff "Password." was heard through the hole. He gave it, to the man's pleasure, and the grunt opened the door for him. This was a private type of club, an underground place that not everybody in Vegas knew about, one that you wanted kept secret, so the tourists wouldn't overrun the place. As Atta entered, he looked around the dark, smoggy room, and scowled. Girls wearing nothing but chains danced in cages hung from the ceiling. The lighting was dismal at best, abyssal at worst. Behind the bar stood a man with big burly shoulders, handing out drinks and chit chatting with the customers. And there were at least 25 people in the room, all milling around, most dancing to the insipid techno beat drumming from the wall speakers, some just admiring the dancing girls in the cages, and a couple sitting in dark corners, watching the outcome. And Atta could smell the vampires in the room, at least four or five of them, mostly the ones sitting in the corner booths, talking amongst themselves. This was a place where the vampires could meet, discuss their day, and talk about the upcoming night.

Atta walked up to Burly, his nickname for the bartender on that night. "Hey buddy." he said nonchalantly, his gloved hand on the table.

"Pick your poison, pal. You look like a whiskey-rocks guy to me." Burly always greeted him like that, no matter how many times he came to this place. Every single fucking time. The bartender was jovial enough, at least in voice, although he never seemed to smile.

"I'm not looking for a drink." Said Atta for the millionth time, leaning close, so as not to be overheard. Not that it was very likely with the music blaring from the speakers. He almost had to yell to make himself scarcely heard to Burly. "I'm here to see Constantine."

Burly nodded, and stuck a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing for the back door. "He's in the office, Sunset. In a good mood tonight. Have a good chat." And with that, Burly turned away, focusing on another customer.

Very casually, Atta walked to the back door, and pulled it open. Stepping lightly down the hall, he came to the last door on the left, which was slightly ajar. Clearing his throat and then knocking, he heard a voice tell him to come in, and so he did. Pushing the door open, he was greeted not by a glaring flourescent light, but a couple soft red candles and a mostly dark room. It wasn't like Constantine needed any extra light to do his business.

The manager sat with his feet up on the desk, leaning way back in his chair, the latest overhead estimates and tax documents clutched in his pale hand. He was a normal vampire, not a Pure born, and he did his best to look very human. Normal, unpointed ears, normal brown eyes, skin that appeared to be tanned to perfection but was actually a cream applied to his skin. He kept his body well-built and attractive, not opting for the gaunt look like his friend Atta Sunset, and the women enjoyed his company mightily. He was known as a bit of a ladie's man around town, picking up hookers for a good time, giving them the time of their lives, and then, when they were unconscious and enraptured with pure pleasure, he would drain a small amount of their blood and have himself some enjoyment. It was just...his thing. He had converted many a stripper and prostitute this way.

Constantine smiled as Atta entered the room, and put his feet down. "Atta! Sunset, my man! How goes the world, my friend?" He was obviously in the best of moods, why, Atta didn't know. He would get it out of him in a moment.

"It goes well, I guess. Could always be better, but hey..." The way Atta spoke, you would never think he was a bloodthirsty vampire. He had a dreary tone to his voice, one that did not do his dangerousness justice. But he was a Pure, and therefore high up on the social hierarchy of the vampires. When Atta Sunset spoke, those who knew his name paid attention, because they knew that the cost if they didn't could very well be high indeed.

"Excellent, my friend! Truly. Must be having a kickin' time tonight, right? Bet you got yourself a girl, you sly old dog, didn't you? Oh, you cheeky bastard, you're always one for the ladies!" Constantine was completely talking out of his ass. He had no idea that Atta was a leper, had no clue that Atta could never have a woman again, had no idea that this vampire was closer to real death every day. But he still considered himself Atta's friend, and acted thus, just to keep in his good graces.

"You know me so well, Constantine." said the vampire, but the sentiment was not echoed in his catlike eyes.

"So so, my friend, what brings you here, tonight of all nights? Looking for someone to party with? Maybe have a little fun? Huh? Or maybe you're just...thirsty?" and the way he said that would have made any normal human shudder at the implications.

"No no, nothing like that, dude. I'm here for some information." Constantine gave him an odd look, but let him continue. "I heard a news report today. Reporter said that the city was in vampire warning mode, and that the Bloodies would be reporting in any strange sitings they might have." Bloodies was a term used by vampires to refer to the humans they hunted.

The club manager looked up at Constantine with shaded eyes, and his mood suddenly became abysmal. He spoke with a sour tone, his hand reaching up and tugging his ear even as he put his legs down on the floor again and faced Atta fully. "Yeah...well. I heard the news too. Fucking great. It seems the police, the National Guard, even the goddamn FBI have been brought in to the Vegas, my man. There's a cop or a soldier or a fibbie on every corner, armed with guns and knives and other stuff too, stuff I don't even want to think about. And they all got their orders. Any suspicious activity, it's kill first, and maybe ask some questions later. You probably passed some on your way down here, although they're mostly focused on the Strip, where all the looky-loos are. I'm telling you, man, unless you stick to the dregs, there's a lot less meat out there than there was before. It's enough to make an honest working man like me a little voo voo le yoohoo, if you get what I'm saying." His face was dead serious, and he seemed seriously perturbed.

Atta scoffed, and frowned. Great. Just great. The National Guard and the fibbies. Probably armed with thermal grenades, shotguns, blades, and all manner of nasty weaponry. And there were tons of them. Right in the Vegas. Fucking shit. Atta stood up, his face gloomier than normal, and spoke in his normal, quiet voice.

"Well, Constantine, thanks for that. I think I'll stick around The Pit for a while, have a couple drinks, chat it up with some of the others. We'll see what we can do. And what with the High Mucky-Mucks gone, for some strange reason, I think we've been left to fend for ourselves. God damn it all. Well...have a good night, my friend. I'll talk to you later." Atta disappeared out the office door, and was back into the main club in a minute or two. He went up to Burly, ordered himself a whiskey-rocks, just as had been suggested, and sat himself down at the darkest open table. Drinking his drink silently, he waited to see if anyone he knew would come in tonight. It was a good night for talking.

(OOC: Yup...open invitation! LOL Anyone want to sit? He'll buy. )

[matt]

Malachai Black sighed as men and women surrounded him. "The Blood Brothers, correct?" He questioned. The Blood Brothers were the largest known organization of the Underworld, humans and vampires alike specialized in 'making people dissapear'.

"You are correct, Tra'Noi," Malachai watched as a man before him raised a sub-machine gun. "Me and my associates are here for your head."

Malachai looked him in the eye. "Why?"

The leader blinked. "Because you are worth more than Bill fucking Gates has?" He explained, exasperated. How could an infamous Tra'Noi such as Malachai Black not know of the price on his head?

"Ah..." Malachai paused, and drew from a scabbard on his back, a Nodachi. "...But is money worth your life?"

The leader spat. "You are an arrogant fuck, ya know that?" Malachai cracked his neck, bringing his Nodachi to an attack stance. "So I have been told, but enough. Step aside, or you will be moved."

The leader laughed, and the group laughed. They were all laughing, laughing at a very serious, and very dangerous Tra'Noi with a bounty of 64 billion dollars. The leader teared with laughter, and then, stopped. His group stopped too. Seems like they needed his approval to piss. "That IS funny, but now you die..." He paused, "...again."

Vegas drowned out the gun fire from the group. The sounds drowned out the richochetting shots, and the myriad of loud bangs. Clips were emptied, and then it was over. The smoke from the intense seconds obscured the Tra'Noi, but they knew he had to be dead.

"We are gonna be SO fuckin'..." The group gaped as their leader's head was lopped off by a Nodachi, held in the hand of none other than Malachai Black. The Tra'Noi watched as the corpse dropped lifelessly, and made no move as the group started to run. Infact...

He walked the other way.

But when the group was scattered, he sheathed his Nodachi, and red lines flashed briefly across their bodies before they all dropped dead where they stood, in half.

[Kaisar]

Raven continued to watch the people for a good twenty minutes before the sound of gunfire filed the night air. Taking to the wing she glided noiselessly towards the sound keeping to the darkness as she flew until she heard the voices of those who had caused the disturbance. They were in an empty street, one man against a cluster of others. Curious she watched as the leader of the gang spoke to the man. something about that man put a feeling of fear in her and as she circled overhead she learned why.
"The Blood Brothers, correct?" He questioned.
"You are correct, Tra'Noi," the gang leader said raising a sub-machine gun. "Me and my associates are here for your head."
Raven flew higher and continued to watch transfixed by the idea of a Tra’Noi here and nowof all times.
The perfect hunters… Amazing…. How will he deal with this lot I wonder? She landed high above on a building remaining in her raven form and watched at the men opened fire. Smoke filled the street and the men stopped their fire upon the Tra’Noi. They were cocky sure their enemy was destroyed and then. Like a ghost he was there the leaders head in his hand while his body fell away. The men scattered at that point but didn't get far as thier bodies fell appart where they stood. He'd moved so fats she couldn't even register it herself.
Wonderful… she mentally applauded the Tra’Noi. He was her natural predator, but being a predator herself Raven admired the prowess of such a killer.
Taking to the wing once more she circled once more above him and then made her way to the Pit. She had seen a wondrous sight tonight and right now she wanted nothing better then to sit and think over what she had seen.

Landing she moved with an easy grace to the bouncer at the door her barred her way enquired as usual. ”Password…” Raven looked him over and then smiled showing her fangs as she gave the password. He stepped aside and she slipped in. Not bothering to look back Raven could feel the bouncers eye’s on her. She’d even seen a touch of fear.
Entering the underground bar she looked around mildly amused at the number of eyes that turned her way. The room’s normal bustle and talk dropped considerably as she entered. Raven knew why. She had a reputation for being sadistic. Not just to humans but to any vampires who crossed or irritated her. They often experienced days if not weeks or pain and torture before she let them go or even on a rare occasion killed the offending vampire. She was a master torturer her skills there for the hire of anyone willing to pay the right fee. A fee which normally included her keeping the victim and anything she felt took her fancy. However quite often she would do it for free happily weeding information from humans and vampires alike.
Moving to the bar with barely a glance at the occupants of the room and stood at the counter looking at the selection of drinks available behind him. She sighed and asked for a red wine before seating herself at a stool staring at the deep red liquid in the glass thoughtfully.
A Tra’Noi here… how truly delightful…. She lifted the glass and sipped the liquid smiling at its sweet taste.

[matt]

Malachai Black stopped as he looked down at the door to The Pit. There were vampires down there. Vampires he knew from the Underworld.

"Hmm..."

He thought, and thought, and thought, and maybe, just maybe, he could have a good time.

"Why not...?"

The Tra'Noi, with a bounty on his head for more than Bill fucking Gates has, walked down the stairs of The Pit. He had heard of this place. He had heard of Constantine. And he had heard of the rules. He knocked on the door, and waited. The eyehole opened, and the bouncer said "Password." in a 'don't fuck with me' way. Malachai looked up, brows furrored, and remembered. He said the password, and the bouncer opened the door, but the Tra'Noi did not make a move. The bouncer watched as he took off his hat, and his trenchcoat. He unstrapped the Nodachis on his back, and took the knifes out of his boots.

"I know the look in your eye. I will not cause trouble."

The Tra'Noi dumped it all in the bouncer's hands, and walked towards the bar. He did not look at the girls, or the eyes watching his moves. But when they saw he meant no trouble, they went on with their business.