Title: The Thunder Rolls
Brutus Decimus - June 11, 2011 01:05 AM (GMT)
Stepping off the greyhound bus, Bruce looked up to a storm-cloud darkened sky. Just as the thunder began to roll, the ground shook from the bolt, and a flash of lighting lit the sky the same second rain fell, the drops falling faster each second until everything was blurred and soaked. The streets were empty and silent; the only sound was that of the storm.
Bending down to pick up his bag, Bruce shook his head free of the pounding rain, though fleeting as it was, and ran to the nearest cover. Fighting the urge to panic, he stood, because it was covered in shadows. He hated shadows. Or more accurately, not seeing what was in them. Having not planned on a rain storm, his duster was safely packed away in his suitcase. Quickly digging it out, he slipped into it, a smile crossing his face for a brief second as he realized no one from the school was here to meet him.
“Well isn’t this just a dandy welcome to my new job…” he said to no one. Turning the collar of his jacket up, and grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he stepped out into the storm, and began an attempt to find someone to tell him where Darbyville Academy was, and how he could get there.
Hours later, after walking aimlessly, the thirst that plagued his mind for hundreds of years started to burn through his veins. It had been a long trip here from Texas. “Damn it; I need to drink, but there is no one, human or animal, around.” His pace slowed until he was stumbling, like he’d drunk too much whiskey. The idle thought of wishing he was drunk quickly passed through his mind, and then he remembered that him and drinking is not a good idea. He became someone completely different. That thought pulled a quick, sharp laugh from his throat, as he remembered that party in New Orleans.
It was decades ago that he had last drank, at least to be drunk anyway. The Cajun music and women had teased his senses, and then there were those bottles of sangria, hours of dancing. He had managed to single out the village mayor’s daughter as his conquest for the evening a choice he normally would not have made due to the risk of exposure, but the alcohol was strong, and he was still a young enough vampire to not realize the dangers of drinking. Well, after bedding the young maiden, just as they were getting dressed, her father happened upon them. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that he could out run the village. Or, perhaps, the drunkenness had halted his memory that vampires couldn’t simply be killed like others.
Shaking his head as he came back to reality, he noticed the scent of a deer. Quickly scanning the area, he saw it a hundred yards away. “Seems my luck has changed a bit,” he whispered almost silently, to the same no one as before. He hooked his heels on the wall behind him, and used it as a volley point to launch out and catch the doe, whom had been unaware of his presence entirely. He had made the jump easily, and an evil, hungry, primal glint alit his eyes as he sunk his long fangs into the beating jugular of his prey. With a feral hiss, he drank it’s life away. Five minutes later, he had drained and hid the carcass, and resumed his attempt at finding the school. He turned his attention to a nearby path. Should he check each road, path by path? He swore himself off for not writing down the goddamn directions.
Sayaka Voltrez - June 11, 2011 02:45 AM (GMT)
The rain made a perfect veil. Darkness was useful and all, but there wasn't much she could do if people were still likely to be out and about. It bothered her that she couldn't tell Sketch where she was going, but for all the money in the world, she wasn't going to put him in any added danger by going around and using his influence to get the information she needed. He'd hate it if he realized what was wrong with her. The only real remaining pains from her ordeal the last few years weren't really physical. A couple of scars, a boatload of trust issues, and an overwhelming sense of fear, but those, those she could get over. It was the lack of any sort of protection that bothered her the most.
She slipped through the sleepy town, watched a bus unload, a man without a jacket got off, and she wondered in half-awareness which part of him thought going without a coat in such weather was a good idea, pulling her own worn covering tighter around her body. She didn't spare him much more thought as she turned down a side street, heading out into the woods, her new boots, sturdy but silent, glimmering with rainwater. Yes, she preferred the rain, the sleepy town turned nearly ghostly. After all, who would go outside in such weather without a perfectly good reason?
She remembered so many of these paths, had run them many times, traversed the branches, and listened to the songs of the wood. She had been able to hear clear from one side to the other, and now, all she heard was the echo of raindrops on branch and bramble, the pattering noise they made as they slipped down leaves and caressed the dampened dirt. Finding an old clearing, even the remains of a long dead campfire. She smiled internally, angry, yet pleased that while she had had so much taken from her, no one had taken her gift of night vision. They hadn't known about it, and truthfully, she hadn't really ever considered it a gift until the night she escaped, yet here it was, useful in it's own right.
Saya scrambled up a tree, curling her body around the cold wet bark, resting her back against the trunk, legs loosely stretched out before her. She closed her eyes, willing the energy through her body once more, longing for the familiar feel of it surging through her body. Her eyes flickered open, bright, but not alight. Anger, calm, even necessity wasn't bringing it back. A sharp clap of thunder rang out and startled, she yelped loud into the world, teetering to the side, hands grasping for hold as she slid from her precarious perch.
"Mother Moon, what is this?!" She muttered, angry, resettling herself, WHat had she done in this entire world to deserve the loss she suffered? There were many like herself, a mutant without her mutations. It was their fault, their doing. Cursing wildly to the wind, she thunked her head back against the trunk of the tree and let the sadness take her, heaving sobs wracking her chest. She carefully pulled her jean-clad legs up to her chest, letting her head fall to her knees as she finally let the pain take it's toll.
Brutus Decimus - June 11, 2011 04:46 AM (GMT)
The forest path opened up before him, the soaked ground squishing under his boots, rain dripped from the brim of his hat. The fresh sent of rain filled the air, a gentle breeze danced through the trees, bringing with it the intoxicating scent of a woman’s perfume. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla stopped him dead in his tracks, the faint sound of what might be crying drifted along on the breeze as well.
Branches swayed in the breeze, one waving so low it tapped him on the shoulder without his seeing it, causing him to jump, turning with his fist raised ready to hit whoever it was that tapped his shoulder without announcing their presence first. The branch dipped again hitting him in the head this time, looking up he laughed quietly to himself. Whispering again over his laughter, he heard for certain this time the sounds of soft crying. The sound broke into his argument with the tree, snapping him back to the sounds. He brought his concentration into the immediate area and began to follow both sound and scent.
He moved silently and quickly, picking up speed, the stronger the scent became until he was running, his motion blurring the night. As he neared the immediate area where the scent was the strongest, he hid his bag among the undergrowth, and silently waited and watched to see who was about. Tense minutes passed as he waited sensing no one else around but the source of the intoxicating scent, and sound he sprinted towards it failing to notice an exposed tree root. The toe of his boot caught on it, and sent him sprawling head first into the tree and mud.
Shaking his head to clear it he looked up and saw someone sitting in the tree. “Well hi there darling; what is a pretty thing like you doing sitting up in a tree all by your lonesome?”
Sayaka Voltrez - June 11, 2011 01:04 PM (GMT)
With what sounded akin to a mouse squeaking, Sayaka jolted from her thoughts and solitude at the sound of someone falling, already halfway to her feet on the branch before the someone spoke. She looked down at the man sprawled out on the ground, and raised an eyebrow. "You were on the bus." she gave him an odd look as she looked him over, one hand holding the tree trunk, the other on her hip. The rain had plastered her white blonde hair to her neck and cheeks, and absently, she pushed it behind her ears, absently running a finger down the delicate points of each. "While your entire wardrobe seems lacking to me, at least you've got a jacket on now."
Saya considered her options. She was essentially helpless out here by herself, yet there wasn't anything wrong seemingly with the man. He could be anyone out here: anti-mutant, figment of thought, random guy from town, bored student unable to sleep....Vampire.
Her eyes had finally caught his belt buckle, and she regarded him with the new information. Well, at the very least, he wasn't one of them, that much, she felt safe in, and Mother Moon, if they came for her now, either they'd be distracted by a new target or he'd help her out. Or, you know, want a midnight snack. She bent her knees and jumped down next to him, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking rainwater out of her eyes.
"What brings you to Demon High?"
Brutus Decimus - June 11, 2011 09:44 PM (GMT)
Bruce rolled onto his back, and stared up into the branches of the trees, watching the strange woman watch him, and trying to decide if he was a threat. He first noticed her pointed ears, and then he noticed her hair. His first instinct was to rise and offer her his jacket; surely she must be freezing.
Slowly picking him self up off the ground and wondering if his hat had been badly damaged, Bruce stood, removed his hat, and in a slurred voice “What bussh? Demon thigh what is that? I am looking for Dormy Vale Unimedy.” Shaking his head again he wondered why he sounded like he was drunk. He tried to give a small bow and over balanced, falling into the mysterious tree loving woman, giving a crooked smile “I’m sorry miss, I seem to not be myshelf at the mome--” his speech cut off quickly as a wave of nausea washed over him, and he dropped to the ground his hat falling out of his grasp and into a puddle.
Laying in the wet mud he looked upwards, his head spinning and blackness began to slip over him, he spoke in a barely audible voice “My name is Bruce, new teacheeir...tea-pitcher…No Deejay – doctor - for me; will be fine in a few hours, need…” the last was said in barely a whisper as unconsciousness took over. The last thought that went through Bruce’s mind before nothingness was if she was the one who was supposed to have met him in the town to guide him to the impossible to find school?
Sayaka Voltrez - June 12, 2011 11:39 PM (GMT)
Well, that was....weird.
As the man crashed into the ground and passed into some sort of oblivion, Sayaka just felt rather lost. Seriously, of all people to find her in the middle of the bloody woods, why would it be a teacher, an apparently new teacher, but a teacher nevertheless. Well, at least this one wouldn't be surprised and ask too many questions like where she'd spent the last couple of years. Crossing her arms over her chest again, she looked down at the vampire at her feet. Priceless really.
"And I thought vampires were practically impervious to everything." She muttered to herself, sighing down at the motionless form.
She pulled back the cuff of her jacket, checking the time at only a little past 1AM. Well, at least if she left him here for a little while, the sun wouldn't come up an roast him. However, she wasn't exactly sure she could move the man, and Goddess forbid if he didn't wake up before dawn, she'd have a bigger problem on her hand. Checking to make sure that he was as comfortable as he could get in the rain and mud, she turned and ran off.
An hour later found her back in the exact spot with a tent, a blood pack, and a couple of nutri-grain bars for her own rumbling stomach. There wasn't -many- complications to putting the tent up, but after it was up and as secure as she could get it, she pulled herself back up into the tree where he had found her before, sitting exactly the same way, mischievously nomming on the snack bars., waiting for him to wake up, hopefully before the dawn.
Smirking to herself, she watched the vampire who had come looking for the Academy. Well, at the very least, this hat made her look good. Sayaka giggled lightly, adjusting the hat so it kept more of the rain off of her face, before taking another bite.
Brutus Decimus - June 13, 2011 12:13 AM (GMT)
The dawn’s early glow filtering through the trees and warming the air roused Bruce from his impact induced slumber, rolling onto his back as his eyes fluttered open. Blinking a few times, he failed to clear his vision, and the world appeared to him blurred and distorted. His hands clamped onto the sides of his head and a groan of pain escaped his lips as the headache from hell hit him.
Struggling to piece things together, Bruce could only remember stepping off the bus and walking around for hours. Panic over took him as he realized the sun was rising, and he had no where to hide; and probably no time to find a place yet alone the time to clear his head enough to think clearly.
“What in the name of all things holy did I do to get hit this hard?” he exclaimed to the trees, as he struggled to sit up. Panting with the effort of sitting up, he tipped to the side hitting his head against the very tree that had rendered him unconscious. “Damn it,” he exclaimed loudly, and cradled his head in his hands again. Fighting through the pain, he struggled to his feet, and took a few very wobbly steps away from the tree.
His eyes were drawn to the bright colors of a tent, or as he saw it, a blur-coloured mountain, and started to stumble towards it. Over balancing and falling into the mud again, his head spun and felt like someone was trying to split his skull in two. Knowing he had no choice he forced himself to crawl towards his mountain and possible sanctuary as the black hole of unconsciousness began to over take him again, and succeeded in seducing him again a few feet away from his destination. He passed out, concussed, face first in the mud.
Sayaka Voltrez - June 13, 2011 12:27 AM (GMT)
She had only one conclusion as she saw him go down again.
"Vampires. Are. Helpless."
Pouncing down from the tree, landing gracefully on her feet, she walked over to him, grabbed him under his armpits, and bodily hauled him into the tent. "You are SO much heavier then you look." She grumbled, pulling him inside the flaps with a grunt. With a pull of a cord, she zipped the tent up, leaving them both in utter darkness. It was the nice thing, being the wife of a man of power, that with very little difficulty, she could acquire just about anything. For instance, she had purchased this tent shortly before she vanished from the Academy, meaning to take Sketch camping. The only problem was that she hated any light entering a room before she woke, so bought the black out tent.
After tripping over his sprawled out form at least twice, she managed to find the bag inside with the electric lantern and hit the switch, momentarily reblinding herself before her eyes adjusted, hanging it from a hook in the center of the tent. Finally able to see properly, for even her dark vision had limitations in such a tiny space, Reaching down for the passed out vampire, she hauled him onto the cushioned bed space and let him thump back down, albeit onto a softer surface then the first time. Tossing one of the blood packs down onto his chest, she turned and crawled under the blanket across the tent, content to doze until she heard him stir.
Brutus Decimus - June 13, 2011 01:27 AM (GMT)
Bruce lay in the tent, his body tense and covered in sweat; he tossed and turned, sending the blood pack flying across the tent. The sounds of his heavy laboured breathing filled the space as he began to dream.
The alley was dark, the streets deathly quiet at this time. Bruce stepped silently but quickly, checking constantly to make sure no one followed him; the location of his sister must remain a secret. Her life was the least he owed his parents. The minutes slipped by as he grew closer; he heard the sounds of a woman screaming filling the air. He quickened his pace to that of a silent, quick run, rounding a corner. The smell of burning wood filled his nose, and the glow of a fire could be seen in the distance.
Back in the tent, Bruce screamed, “No, this cannot be; she was supposed to be safe!” In his nightmare, he had arrived at the house where his sister was staying. Bodies were everywhere, the scent of blood and smoke was thick in the air. The sight of the destruction shook him to his core. Kicking the door in on the house, he ran up the stairs and into his sister’s room. Her books had been torn apart, and the pages scattered over the floor, and the wreckage of what was once expensive furniture laid strewn everywhere. His eyes raked the room, desperate to not see what he feared, and what his gut was telling him was true. Stepping carefully into the room, he slowly made his way to the bedroom, and there she was, in the middle of the bed, her Venetian dress torn, defensive wounds covering her body, lay his sister.
He covered the distance between him and the bed quickly. Climbing onto it her pulled his sisters lifeless body into his arms, and wept at the realization that he had failed his parents, his sister, and broken the one promise to himself that he had sworn to keep. As he sat on the bed, tears streaming down his face, he threw his head back, and screamed his sister’s name.
Back in the tent, unconsciously, he had crossed to the other side and was holding Saya in his arms the way he had held is sister, screamed the same way and as the scream died off he suddenly came aware of his surroundings, looked down, blinked a few times, and asked, “Where is my hat, and who are you?”
Sayaka Voltrez - June 13, 2011 04:55 PM (GMT)
Being pulled awake by a screaming man who was holding her in a slightly delightful way was not exactly what she intended to do with herself. Blinking confusedly up at the vampire she had managed to save, she took a minute to take stock of what had happened in the period she had been asleep. She dimly recalled him having yelled only a few minutes prior, something about being safe, but she had thought it a dream. Now awake, she realized he had actually called out in his unaware state, and wondered what he had been dreaming of. Indeed, at the same time, she wondered who Katrina was.
"Um..." she said blinking up at his still slightly fuzzy looking self, her eyes taking an additional moment to adjust. "I'm definitely not Katrina, but you can call me whatever you'd like." The tone of her voice was teasing and at the same time sleepy, and she smiled dimly at him. She yawned, covering her lips with the back of her hand and went to move and found herself still encased in his arms. "As for the hat, well, that's for me to know and you to find out when I see fit. I will help you and answer any questions you have, but first I must require that you unhand me before I unhand you."
Sayaka grinned again, though all coyness was gone. She was waking up and not nearly as cute and corny as when she was sleepy. Suddenly trapped in the tent and his arms made her nervous, and she wanted the distance between them to widen. Thankfully, in any case, she was close to the door and would be able to easily escape if he tried anything. Somehow though, she doubted he would try, especially if he was a teacher for the Academy like he claimed.
Brutus Decimus - June 14, 2011 01:32 AM (GMT)
Bruce put the woman down and flopped back onto the bed he had been laying on, and tried to relax and get his head clear enough to focus on what he needed to know. It had been decades since he had experienced a nightmare that vivid. The dredged up memories had shaken him deeply. He took a few deep shuddering breaths to center himself and focused his steely grey-blue gaze across the tent. His voice was rough from screaming, and all his muscles ached from the tension.
“I am not crazy, even though you must think I am. I was dreaming of the day I found my sister murdered.” Putting words to what he had dreamed caused him no small amount of pain, but he buried it, not just for her sake, but his own, as well.
“So, how exactly did I end up in a tent alone with such a beautiful woman?” Bruce ran his hands through his ebony hair unconsciously. He missed the presence of his hat, but he didn’t totally register that it was missing. He was glad that his head didn’t feel as muddled as it had the last time he was awake. He remembered getting off the bus and walking through the town until he found a forest, but he didn’t remember a lot after that. He could remember something about rain, mud, walking, and something about pain. He reached behind himself, feeling around for his hat, but found nothing; he looked across the tent to try and spot it, but didn’t see it.
“…Where the hell is my hat?”
Sayaka Voltrez - July 4, 2011 05:17 PM (GMT)
Sayaka watched him carefully, her eyes both weary and sad. "I'm sorry about your sister." She spoke softly, drawing her knees up to her chest as she watched him, wrapping her arms around them. Her pale fingers clenched each other as if the thought of releasing them would release the world. She knew about loss, but it was nothing she hadn't overcome. Nightmares, however, was something she hadn't been able to shake, even after all this time. When she had attended school, she had them every so often, now it was nearly every time she closed her eyes. Even simple day dreams had dark nightmare-ish tints.
"Dunno about your hat. However, I do know that you are a vampire, and a teacher for Darbyville Academy, affectionately known as Demon High." She smiled, full of light and sarcasm, and all the knowledge in the world as to were his hat was. "Pardon if I mistranslated, it's been a while since I had to. Your belt," she gestured, "Long live the vampire, if I am correct. Are you hungry?"
She tilted her head to the side, her choppy hair swinging away from her slightly pointed ears for a moment before settling, looking him over as she waited for a reply. It wasn't often she entertained a vampire. Or, come to think of it, that she had ever entertained one. Actually, she wasn't sure the last time she entertained ANYONE. Life changing events did that to a person, she guessed, and it wasn't like she had a chance when she was sleeping under bridges or in high grassed fields. For a high profile wife, she knew absolutely nothing about entertaining, and small talk was such a chore.
Without thought, she signed, righting her head to look at him face on. His dark hair in the light brought painful memories to mind, giving her cause to think about William. There weren’t too many safe nights on the road, but sitting in this tent reminded her of most of them in a way that ached in her soul. Being back here made her feel torn, like something was missing from her and restored at the same time. She felt the loss of him at her side acutely right now, but that place should have been Grypph’s. She wasn’t sure what would come of it when the two of them met. For now, she’d just settle for getting her powers back, so Goddess forbid that something did occur, she might be able to do something then be a generally helpless female sitting on the sidelines. Ugh. The thought of that made her sick. With a soft “humf” she released her knees, folding them instead and looking at the vampire.
Brutus Decimus - July 25, 2011 07:41 AM (GMT)
“Thank you, her death will haunt me for the rest of my life. A part of me died with her; she was my responsibility to protect, and I failed her. The trick to dealing with something as tragic and traumatic as this is to not let the death inside of you consume the light of your soul. Eventually a gift, whether that is a new possession, a person, or winning a bet, will be bestowed up you to give you a new life,” replied Bruce. As he watched her watching him, he saw the nervousness and tension in her body, and wondered what, or who, had caused her to feel this way. With a stranger, strangely enough, he didn’t feel any pity for the unknown events that caused her so much pain.
Taking a deep breath to slow his thoughts down, he shook his head again finally starting to feel clear headed. “You are correct, I am a vampire; and you have nothing to fear from me. Yes I am hungry; it’s been a few days since I have had the chance to eat last. Well, at least eat something that actually nourishes my body.”
It had been a long time since he had been this close to a human he hadn’t been hired to track or kill. He had forgotten how challenging small talk could be yet he was enjoying the challenge. “So where is this school? I tried to find it for hours when the person who was supposed to meet me when I got off the bus never showed up. I do hope nothing has happened to this person as I do plan on telling them off at a rather loud volume for a prolonged period of time. Asshole could have passed a message on, at the very least.”
Sniffing the air, he caught the faint scent of blood. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in the memory of its smooth coppery taste, the explosion of life it caused within him, and the momentary loss of the cold and numbness. But, the best part of all was the feeling that he was truly alive, his flesh becoming warm, lighting up as peachy and pink as everyone around him, and not being pale or sickly looking anymore.
“I can smell it; are you bleeding, or do you have blood near by?” He asked, his mouth starting to water at the thought of quenching the blood lust he was beginning to feel. He hoped she had blood nearby, as he was not sure he was quite up for hunting, and he did not yet trust her enough to ask her to get anything - or anyone - for him.
Sayaka Voltrez - November 3, 2011 11:49 PM (GMT)
Sayaka lifted her left hand up and pointed next to where he had been laying before he had dreamed himself awake. "Blood pack, from the school. There's a couple more in the bag by the flap." She laid the hand back down on her lap, glancing absently where her wedding ring had once sat. Would she ever wear one again? Would he want to have here anywhere near by when he found out what had happened on the long trip back?
She sighed, tucking her legs to her side and without warning, gave a huge yawn. A pale flush of embarrassment flourished on her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly, covering it with a hand. "I'm sorry, I've only just gotten back from a rather long trip myself. You aren't that far from the school, unfortunately, the sun came up and I'm not currently strong enough to have gotten you back there before it did so."
She gestured around the tent, dark except for the light of the lantern swaying softly from where she had hooked it up near the top of the tent. "Black out tent. I hate being woken up too early. On the plus side, it's perfectly safe for any wandering vampires." She smiled lightly at him, brushing back her butchered hair. To her, the white-blonde tresses mocked her. When she first escaped, she had bought a couple bottles of bleach, tearing the color away. She left the locks long, curling in waves to her waist. A week later, they were gone too. After everything had been taken from her, she had been ridiculously reluctant to get rid of it. Out of everything, it had made her so angry. Then she cried, bawling her eyes out when William took his survival knife and hacked it all off.
William brought back those memories again, and with a certain reluctance, she pushed them to the back of her mind. With a soft clearing of her throat, she spoke to him again. "As for who was to meet you, I am not sure, but I would take some particular pleasure in hearing you tell them off." She smiled brightly, the corner of her mouth lifting up with more than a little mischief sparking in her bright green eyes.
"So, how old are you really, and how old where you when you were turned?"
Brutus Decimus - January 23, 2012 07:44 AM (GMT)
Bruce grabbed for the near by blood pack, and sank his teeth into it as he contemplated if he wanted to reveal his exact age to someone he had just met. The blood was cold, and didn't taste nearly as clean as it did when it was fresh from the vein. As its revitalizing effects washed through him, he came to the conclusion that it really didn't matter if she knew or not; most of the people in the world wouldn't believe her if she told anyone anyways.
Wiping his mouth on his sleeve and licking his lips clean, he quietly said, "I was born in 1490, and have walked this earth for 521 years. My mortal life was taken from me when I was 29. " His words stopped, and he moved for the bag by the entrance flap. Pulling out a few more blood packs, he drank them slowly, letting his statement sit out there. He thought about each person he had killed, regardless of if it was to feed or in a battle, in some distant land.
"My life is based on death; it brings me no joy to feed. Being a vampire is both a blessing and a curse at the same time. All of my friends have long been in the grave; you are the first person I have spent more than a few minutes with in over a decade. I always thought I needed to be alone to survive; but when the teaching position opened up at the school, it made me realize what I really wanted was to be around people; to do something to better the world, instead of destroying it all the time."
Bruce smiled slightly as he realized he was actually enjoying being in the company of someone else, and he had no need to fear his blood lust as much as he thought he had to. Maybe, just maybe. he could actually have some kind of a life here at Darbyville.