CASTLE

[Trevlac]

The eyes of Trevlac trained on Arc's hand as it reached into the tuft of his pocket, momentarily tightening the grip on his trigger hand. He relieved the stress when a glint of familiar gold shone in the flash-light. His gun remained raised. "Actually we came here to die. Can you help us with that, treasure-hunter?" Trevlac gaunted. His eyebrow cocked and his lip raised to a smirk as he stared the individual down. What a pathetic excuse for a human, squandering his time on riches. Probably squandering his life as well. His motives were not vastly different from the motives of those whom he had hired either. Money, it's universal motivation.

"What color do you bleed, Arc?" Trevlac asked suddenly, a hint of seriousness in his tone.

[Ordin]

"We have no use for strangers, especially in a cursed place like this," the priest began, "We need no friends, acquaintances, henchmen or guides. All four of those spots are filled in our group right now, so why don't you take your fucking ass back up those stairs and die."

He snorted, stepping closer and jamming the gun against the thief's nose.

But in the distances, consumed within the bowels of the catacombs from where they were came a hollow, mocking call. Not so much a noise as a deep vibration that only formed the sensation of a voice at the fancy of the one who perceived it. It was melancholic, like a deep-seated wrath mixed with madness and confusion.

None the less, the priest kept he gun aimed at the newcomer. Turning his face toward the vampire he caught his eye and tried to communicate the need for silence with a finger. His eyes darted back toward the candle which, as if on cue, instantly puffed out.

Suffocating darkness.

This post has been edited by Ordin on Aug 14 2008, 01:40 AM

[Skraelion Escardini]

The newcomer looked immediately familiar, though the face was unknown. Body structure was rather akin to something he had seen huddling by itself in the cold outside. Likely that friend of the old man, the one who had been waiting outside for help to randomly arrive. The slayer had half a mind to ask him if his companion had any luck finding out where the demons went. Izumo's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. The others seemed to have the situation quite under control, so he stepped back and watched the show progress.

Just in case, one of his gauntleted hands relocated itself to the hilt of his sword, thumbing the ribbonwork anxiously. Looking back at the previous traps, he hated to think of what the good count had in store for them next.

[Malachi]

Luther was sitting on the floor, searching his suitcase for a packet of blood. A particular one, anyways. He was uninterested in the newcomer. He was sure it would all work out in the end, whether it was a lovey dovey happy ending where everyone lived happily ever after or the more bloody ending. The realist in him preferred the bloody kind, but Luther wasn't a stickler for what he preferred. He took out a packet, closed and locked the suitcase and started drinking the blood via his trusty bendy straw. He wasn't halfway through before he noticed the candle getting snuffed out and the noise from the end of the hall. He tried looking down the hall, but the darkness was too much even for this vampire's vision. Luther hoped the rest of his companions would settle this matter before it was totally lights out.

[Ony]

Jesters eye glowed a bright red in the suffocating darkness. He tried to look around, his eye bobbing around like a possessed ball. “Hey,” he complained, “who turned out the lights?” He tried sending out his doll-creature, but it just wound up running into the wall. He ordered the doll to return, at which point he picked it up and shoved it back to where it came from. “What‘s going on here?” he asked, hoping he would get an answer.

[Ordin]

Fire burned in Ordin's heart. Before he could even stop himself, his human optimism being constrained by monstrous fear and hatred, he turned in the direction of the Jester's eyes and fired a round. There was a flash of light, illuminating the entire room for a fraction of a second.

The sparse fungus that had previous kept itself close to the edges of the walls and a single corridor to the left had now crept closer to them, long gray-black tendrils reaching for them, eating the stone floors. It moved out as if a living creature, hungry for their blood. It could sense the vibrations made in their voices and feet and would consume them.

Of course, the Priest was sure nobody else in the group had gleaned all of this from that fraction of a second. Especially not the Jester, for he had a .357 magnum round shredding the air at him at 1,410 feet per second, with 778 joules of energy.

[Trevlac]

The beautiful symphony of death enthralled vampires of all creatures. Trevlac was once a figure of mystery and variables but in the recent two or so years he had become an upstanding role-model. The hero type, complete with an honor code and everything. Truthfully he was neither mysterious nor noble. He was just like every other suck-head beastly vampire. Inside them all there is a sick and sadistic hunger and a caged animal. In times of blood feasting it's possible that one's willpower can break and that beast can be set free. For those with the highest humanity and willpower, sometimes fate drags you by the ankles kicking and screaming; and I do mean screaming.

The gunshot fired from Ordin's gun would certainly kill that ridiculous freak show calling himself the Jester. Arc was now at his mercy too and to top it off, there was an apparition attacking them all, ready to devour their delicious life energy. Trevlac opened his mouth, still staring the thief down, and roared; "Let the bloodbath begin!" and fired the Casull revolver at the point-blank range aimed right between Arc's eyes. The Jester and the thief were both going to have an unfortunate and abrupt end. The beast inside of Trevlac was clawing at the hinges of its cage, desperate to free itself. The vampire had fought most of his new life with himself rather than others. Of all the battles he'd been through, those internal had been the hardest. And now he was losing. He wouldn't go totally berserk this time but blood and killing things was definitely on his mind. And anyone who wasn't familiar or seemed even slightly threatening was going to be massacred.

This post has been edited by Trevlac on Nov 26 2008, 03:43 AM

[Skraelion Escardini]

As soon as Izumo heard the shots being fired, he flattened himself against the wall, looking downwards so that his coolie would shield his face from the carnage. A moist squelch greeted him as his armored physique slammed against the stone wall. He found out within a second that the animated fungus that had been reaching out for him. One of the blackened tendrils caught behind him withered and fell off of the wall, as if smothered by the pressure on it. The piece fell pitifully to the dark ground, lifeless and cold as it squished against the floor. Interesting...

The two new entries were something of an enigma to the slayer, and in Dracula's castle, all mysteries worked against you. There was no time to let them gain such trust. Onikiri was simmering in its scabbard, and that was bad news already, but the close quarters made it hard to discern why it was seething so. Did it mistrust the thief, who had slipped down the staircase to follow them? Was it suspicious of the nameless jester, a nexus of uncertainty? Had it stopped trusting the vampire and the priest, who were firing at the newcomers without malice or regret? The Demoncutter had it in for somebody at this moment...or something...

As the bullets hurtled through the air at their targets, Izumo quickly threw something else into the mix. A small ceramic orb flew towards the thief, hoping that it would strike his target in the face. These orbs were what he called "light summoners", the noiseless equivalent to flashbangs. Each light summoner was protected by a thin layer of protective ceramic as a casing, and filled with magnesium shavings. Usually, he would hurl them at the ground to break it open and ignite the magnesium, causing a bright light to issue for at least five seconds. This time, he planned to make the intruder's head shine in the darkness. When it exploded against his countenance, the blinding light would disturb both the thief and the jester, hopefully long enough to distract any unwelcome survivors of the bullets' rage.

When the light began to glow, the slayer would leap into the air above Trevlac and Ordin, aiming to strike the dark entity threatening to consume them all. With Onikiri, he could sufficiently assault such a demonic presence. He could almost feel it upon them as he slid the smoking blade out of its sheath.

Spirits, if you favor me still, grant me the strength to survive this fight. He prayed silently amidst the chaos.

This post has been edited by Skraelion Escardini on Dec 4 2008, 02:58 PM

[Ordin]

A chaos was bound to break out all around Ordin and he knew this, in the pit of the Charybdis one either ate or was eaten. The presence of her unearthly vile was enough to turn brother against brother, if the team were to survive her omnipotent horror they would have to work together. As a blinding, deafening light issued from the darkness, turning Ordin's simple uncomfortable lack of eyesight into a searing, disorienting cacophony of closed-eye visuals he choked out the words "FUCKING RUN. DON'T MAKE NOISE, DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING."

Covering his eyes with a sleeve he scuffled off to the right, walking as fast as he could on the balls of his feet. This was accomplished extremely clumsily as the confusing burst of light still blazed into his retinas.

The voiceless vibrations continued to echo from somewhere within the pit of the labyrinth. God help them if they met the thing that made them.

[Trevlac]

When the two bodies hit the floor pitifully and their lives ebbed away Trevlac immediately thought he had been judged by some higher power. He could now only see pure white and his mind panicked. Sensing that danger may be near, he knelt onto the floor and laid perfectly still, stretching his fingers to the side, arms reaching out to balance his posture as he rested on his haunches. Surly this blindness would pass. Surly...besides, don't blind people see all blackness? This was like a sun burned into his retinas. Trevlac's survival instinct kicked in and without the ability to see properly his mind had cleared suddenly.

It was obvious what must be done; use the other four senses at his disposal to escape what might be certain doom. He smelled, all that there was to smell was only rotting flesh coming from the walls and especially potent from down the corridor. He listened, what could be heard was Ordin screaming, everyone else's haggard breath, a boot crunch, armor shifting, and a blade pulled from its sheath as the wind around it was disfigured. He tasted the ground, it may have seemed revolting to most but the vampire knew he could trust that rocks taste like rocks and weird dangerous shit tastes like weird dangerous shit. And indeed, something slimy was caked onto the floor that he never noticed before; he spat it out and rubbed his mouth. Feeling around with his fingertips, Trevlac could confirm that something other that everyone else was moving. Slowly, methodically, purposefully. It had a rhythm like a heartbeat. It was as if the room itself was alive and vibrating. Oh man, if only Ordin could feel this, I'm pretty sure he'd be reminded of the womb.

Suddenly, instead of a big light blur, Trevlac saw a big dark blur. Then his eyes readjusted once again and he was thrown into the badly lit dungeon. It was clear that there was a panic, he could tell that his sensing experience hadn't taken more than ten seconds altogether. Stowing away his still-hot revolver, Trevlac drew a falchion and spotted Ordin. He grabbed the priest's coat and planned to follow wherever he led.

[Malachi]

Luther felt his inner Beast welling up inside of him. The Beast that took forever to repress and keep hidden for so long. Whatever this thing was, it was good at taking out the worst of Luther. He heard Ordin's scream and wondered if he should turn into mist or a wolf. But then he remembered that he still had the suitcase and didn't want to leave it here. Especially in a castle that had it in for the group.

He quickly and quietly followed Ordin and Trevlac down the hallway, trying to keep as quiet as he could. He kept trying to repress the feeling of ripping off Ordin's head and disemboweling the paladin wannabe for sustenence, remembering that he did have manners and such things were considered in poor taste.

[Skraelion Escardini]

The wisdom of a well-placed straw hat revealed itself as the orb crashed open at the feet of the freshly-dying. Izumo quickly tilted it back and turned away from the blindness, and through his tengu visage, he could see the unplanned effect of his light summons. It had been meant to catch off-guard the survivors of the bloody onslaught, but instead, had broken both of his fellow men out of their sudden furies. It was always funny how things like that worked out... The two spun around and dashed down the corridors, fleeing his vision-robbing bomb, Luther following them in kind, though he didn't seem to be affected.

This was an ill portent. His allies were literally charging blindly towards the belly of the beast. If any of them were to survive the further horrors, added deaths were to be avoided. The slayer ran after them, the heavy clunk of his armor reverberating off of the slick, lifelike walls. The steam coming off of Onikiri only increased its intensity as he followed the others. Something good was the last thing he'd expect to come out of this. Hopefully, he'd be there in time to protect one of his companions from being attacked or consumed. Preferably both.

[Ordin]

A thin hand grasped Ordin's coat from the darkness, but no weight came behind him to hinder his advance through the darkness. He assumed it to be Trevlac grappling for help. Now pulling him along he turned a corner and stopped. He had come to the edge of a slight incline. The walls were much closer now though they were bare of fungus unlike in the entrance chamber.

The Priest held his breath, putting an arm on Trevlac's shoulder. He withdrew a lighter from his pocket and sparked it. His face erupted in an eerie orange glow giving him the persona of a floating head. His long, damp hair clung to his head in a dirty mass, enshrouding his gaunt face. Carefully he whispered a couple of words into his friend's ear and nodded knowingly to the samurai who now came plodding along behind them, making a ridiculous ruckus..

"We must make as little noise as possible. The shit that grows on the walls reacts to vibration and it will mutilate whatever it senses as alive and take the nutrients back to the beast that spawns them. They secrete an acidic goop when alarmed that can cause severe burns in moments. Think ninja while you walk. Think candle in your face when you breathe. If you must speak, use telekinesis," he smirked, "and fucking pray we make it the six miles in this tunnel alive."

"Now tell that fucker."

and with that he moved on, using the lighter in his hand for guidance.

This post has been edited by Ordin on Dec 5 2008, 04:10 AM

[Trevlac]

Understanding crept across Trevlac's face as Ordin whispered the situation in his ear. He changed his breathing so that even someone with their hand over his mouth could not feel it, he crept heel-toe the few paces to Izumo and bent low to his ear, repeating the message word for word. More carefully than before, Trevlac sneaked back toward Ordin. He had held the falchion in his hand the whole time, fearing that it would make too much noise if he stowed it away. Carefully, Trevlac lowered his arm and pulled open his long coat. Before he could do anything else he heard a sharp clang break the silence and he looked down to see what caused the commotion. The falchion had slipped from his over-perspired palm and laded flat on the floor, reverberating its presence throughout the narrow passage.

Trevlac let out a huge, disgusted breath and swore in his mind. He fucked up, whatever was here would know it now.