When Journey returned home, all was quiet. She heard what sounded like music coming from Debussy's room. Probably the tape recorder. It was nearing dawn, so Jacques and Jewel were both probably sleeping. She would do the same, but not until she called Debussy. She had no idea if he were home, or running around, but she knew that if he wanted to be disturbed, he would be out in the common room or he would have come out to greet her. She dialed his number.


    The voice mail answred, as usual. "Debussy, love, it's me. I have some more disturbing news for you. It appears that not only are the streets of London crawling with our kind, as well as hunters as the woman told us this evening, but they have seemed to have employed one of our own as a hunter. I know it sounds insane, but I am certain this is so. I had a bit of an...altercation with him this evening when I went out. There were a few witnesses, but I left before anyone of authority showed up. This concerns me greatly. If they have turned one of our own against us, there is no telling who else may be in on it. I think we need to go to the council soon. They're going to want to know about it. Maybe they will give us something to do to even the odds a bit. Well, or at least maybe they'll give me something to do, being that I am a soldier. You are more indespensible than I. You should just stick to what you're doing. Or perhaps you can learn a little more about out new enemies..." Journey was cut off by the tone ending her message, but she got out enough for him to get the gyst of the problem. Time for bed anyway.
                                                          ***

    When Journey awoke the next evening, she decided she would go back to the area of the fight, to see if there were any clued to the hunter's identity. She knocked on Jewel's door, explained what was going on and told her to get dressed. She was unsure if Debussy got her last message yet, but she wanted to take care of this before he made any plans for them.

    Jewel came out of the room and Journey gave  her one of her customized coats and a Roman short sword from her small collection. Journey preferred to use the Imperial Russian short sword she had received form Debussy, but she still kept a collection. There was no telling when she may need a few extra weapons, such as now. Jewel obviously was not accustomed to wielding weapons of any sort, but she would get the hang of it eventually. Besides it was better than leaving her with nothing.

    They jumped onto the subway and exited at the stop she had got off on the previous night. Or, at least, she hoped so. She hadn't really been paying too much attention to where she had been travelling to. It seemed to look familiat, so she just went with it. It seemed as if she had been here before, but everyting was still very unfamiliar. Then she remebered she had beeen traveling by rooftop. She and Jewel climbed up the fire escape and then everyting clicked. Journey ran across the rooftops, with Jewel following closely behind. They descended in the alleyway where the fight had began.

    "Keep an eye out for anything that doesn't appear to belong here." Journey instructed Jewel.

    Journey looking on the ground for anything out of place, just as Jewel called out to her.

    "I'm not sure if this is important, but there is some kind of writing here. I can't really seem to make it out." Jewel called out.

    "Ah, I see." Journey said, as she read the note."It's a phone number. You probably can't read it fully yet, because you have so recently turned. You should be able to eventually. I think the memory of it is encoded in our blood or something. Who knows?" Journey explained.

She dialed the number and the voicemail answered after a few rings.
"Adam.", was all it said. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded like the same voice as the person she had been fighting last night. So, his name was Adam was it?

"You know who this is. I got your little note. What is it you want? Have you thought about what I told you, or are you just trying to let me finish what we started last night?"she asked." You may call me at this number, if you wish. Don't bother trying to trace the number to me. The man who this account belongs to has been dead for quite awhile. Farewell."

    Well, that was all she could do for now.  All that was left was for her to wait....
                                 

---

*Rok decided against taking her on in the streets. There was too high a risk that someone might see, and he wasn't about to have a sword fight in front of a crowd. He watched as the woman made her way into a hotel, and carefully followed her after a while. She was out of sight by the time Rok entered the building, but her scent was strong, and easy to follow. He ran up to a complete stranger, pulled out the notebook, and spoke in an out of breathe voice.*
"Excuse me, but did you see the woman with silverish hair who just walked in here? She dropped this."
*Looking at the notebook, the stranger nodded, mumbled some acknowledgment and pointed to the stairs. Rok quickly rushed passed any one who might stop him from going further into the hotel, holding the notebook up as though it was some kind of pass. This turned out to work more effectively than one would expect, but it wasn't the first time Rok had used it. To him, it was an old trick.*

*Sniffing the air, he found his way to the woman's door and prepared to knock on it, but just before he did, his ears picked up the shuffling that was going on inside. He quickly turned to walk away, only just turning a corner before she came out. Rok stuffed the notebook back in his pocket and made his way, briskly, out of the hotel. Only a few moments later, the stranger emerged and wandered off into the darkness. Rok had not expected her to leave so soon, and was dumbfounded by this young woman's lack of caution. It was quite apparent that she was either completely oblivious to the vampire threat, or just heavily overconfident. She rounded some abandoned looking building, and Rok followed momentarily after. He was being excessively cautious not to make a sound, and, as such, heard her begin to speak. He listened for another, but it soon became apparent that it was only her, happily chatting amongst herself.*

*Judging by her deeply involved conversation, Rok realised she was unaware of the vampire threat, yet strangely enough, she knew about werewolves. In Rok's entire life he had only come across a few, and had never really heard too many stories about them being real. How the hell did she know about them being real? At that, she began to talk about him. It was now that he realised he wouldn't have to mess with her mind much, it was already pretty warped. Still, there was revenge to be had, and this was the opportune moment. Then, the perfect line resonated from her mouth.*
"Maybe I shouldn't have taken the job at all. But they paid well, and I need the money. Bah."
*Rok decided this too good a moment to miss, and deftly stepped into the scene, resting his shoulder against a wall and folding his arms.*

"Should have thought about that earlier."

*Lacera turned to see the intruder as she stumbled backwards out of shock. To her horror, it was Rok - the man, she believed, she had just killed.*
"You?! But--"

"But what?"

"I killed you!"

"Well, apparently not, but I am rather upset that you tried."
*As he spoke, he lifted himself from the wall and stood firmly to face his opponent. He carefully lifted his coat and placed his hand on the hilt of his katana, removing it ever so elegantly. He stood, arm and katana fully extended at an angle by his side in typical anime fashion, and addressed her once more.*
"Tell you what though. I'm a nice guy; I'll give you a second chance."

---

[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

OOC: Hope you don't mind me taking off from where he surprised her with his appearance an' all? Gah, its so pitifully short!

As she was musing to herself, she found her thoughts shattered by another voice. It wasn't one she recognized, so she turned quickly--only to find herself horrified at who it was. Jaw working, it took her a second to regain herself. "You!? But--" He cut her off. "I killed you!" She had already informed those that had hired her that Rok was dead. They certainly wouldn't be happy to find out he was still running around, not to mention that she was pissed. How the hell had he survived a direct shot? No human, none, could get past that! Unless they were wearing a vest, which he certainly wasn't as far as she could discern...

Watching him carefully, a scowl formed as he reached for the katana. She, instead, gripped the Beretta holstered in her belt and quickly drew it, clicking the safety off and training it on him. "I tried to get rid of you once, didn't work. Second time is the charm, huh?" Well, actually, the third, but who's counting? The suppressor that was currently attached to the gun may cause a few problems with her shots not going where she wanted them to, but it would work out in the end. He was human, she was not. She was superior to the mortal men in her own mind. They were below her on the evolutionary scale. This was no different.

***. With that thought, she pulled the trigger three consecutive times, tracking him with her eyes. Though he had survived the long-range, he certainly wouldn't be able to get past close quarters.

---

Even the lullaby of quiescent death cannot still the turmoil of my nightmares.

*Rok watched as the woman drew her gun. She obviously isn't aware that it won't be very effective, but he'd let her try. This would be the perfect opportunity to scare her. He lifted his sword to a defensive position and awaited the train of bullets. The first bullet was hardly on target, and he easily shifted his body to avoid it. The second, however, was very accurate and he had to deflect it with the katana, a skill she would surely be impressed with. She didn't slow down the firing rate though, as the next bullet came screaming at Rok. He decided that he was sick of this gun play, and would show her that a few bullets were not going to stop him. After all, they were just like pesky flies to Rok, and he was already annoyed by them. With that thought, he stuck out his left hand, facing the next bullet's trail. It struck his palm, and shattered the bones in his wrist, still managing to go further up his forearm. The flurry of bullets had stopped, and hopefully this trick would cease them for good. Rok turned his hand to look at it. As he did, the blood covered bullet began to inch it's way out of his hand, and the wound closed up neatly. He clenched his hand into a fist and then dropped the bullet to the ground, turning to face the woman once more.*
"Put that toy away, would you?"

*Lacera stood still for a moment, trying to absorb what had just happened. There is no way a mortal would be able to do that, so there was only one solution in her mind. Since she had heard stories about vampires in London, she presumed that Rok must be one. That would also explain why her employer was willing to pay such a high price for his removal. She gained her wits quickly and addressed him.*
"I see. You must be one of these vampires I've been hearing about."

"Hahaha! Vampire? No, sorry. If I were you would be in a lot more trouble than you are now."
*Rok took a small run up and leaped towards the woman, landing only a few metres away from her. She quickly returned the gun to her belt, and withdrew her katana.*
"Much better. Oh, and forgive my manners, I have not yet introduced myself. My name is Rok, as you no doubt know - since you did try to kill me and all. And what, may I ask, is your name?"

"Lacera."
*She seemed reluctant to reveal her name, but Rok had introduced himself, and she felt obliged to return the favour.*

"Well, Lacera, it is an honour to meet you, and it will be an honour to rid this world of you."
*Being polite was one thing, but pleasantries? Not for the person who had tried to kill him. Besides, she probably deserved a line like that. Rok readied himself for battle, placing both hands on the hilt of his katana, and lifting it to an attacking pose. He watched as Lacera readied herself for an attack. Her movements were precise and flawless, but Rok wasn't worried. No mortal would be able to match his speed and skill. Not to mention his decades of experience.*
"Ready?"

---

[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

She knew that the first shot was going to be way off the mark, but even understanding that it irritated her to no end. No bullet should ever be wasted, especially when a single one could create such bodily harm. The second she found was deflected by his katana, and the third went straight through his hand--...She paused and lifted her finger from the trigger, watching as it did indeed puncture his palm and shatter bone; but then... it came back out? That thought surprised and shocked her, briefly registering on her face. Such a disgusting emotion it was, showing weakness. None the less, she found herself speaking without realizing it; her mouth running before her brain could register. "I see. You must be one of these vampires I've been hearing about."

Apparently she was going to be in for more surprise than one, considering his reply told her the exact opposite of what she had assumed. So much for knowing everything, not to mention that it would have explained quite a bit. Why he was wanted dead, why so little was known about him, why he was so secretive. But with the belief that he was a vampire came the brief idea that he may be what she was. However, it was immediately discarded as soon as it had come, shown by what may have seemed like a twitch of the lip.

Holstering her gun, she reached for the handle of her katana and prepared for when he leapt down. She didn't plan on coming up to him, for that would leave her too open and vulnerable. Lacera may have considered herself more brave--or, rather, insane--than most, but she wasn't willing to put her life into his hands that easily. No, she would let him come to her, and just show him how quick her reflexes and senses were. Shame, though, that it wouldn't be a fair fight for him, even though he could seemingly heal wounds immediately and catch bullets.

Furrowing a brow, she found that the contacts she wore only worked against her and quickly removed them; listening closely as he said his name. It was only generous to give her own back, even as reluctant to do so as she was. Once out of this place, she could only imagine who might have heard and send hounds after her heels. There was only one person who looked like herself in the world. "Lacera."

With it she also placed a moderate amount of venom, chuckling under her breath at his idle threat. Him, best her? If only he knew what she was. Then it'd give him the chance to run away, if only to make things far more entertaining and delicious for her. "I do hope you know this isn't going to end with my death." Ready as ever.

---

Even the lullaby of quiescent death cannot still the turmoil of my nightmares.

*Rok smirked at Lacera's comment. He would enjoy taking this one down. He took this moment to focus on his senses. For some reason, he could still sense her, and she felt different. The sense had been amplified with them being so close. It was similar to a vampire in a way, but much warmer. He would even say it was similar to the other werewolves he'd met, but this one didn't seem the same. There was definitely something about her, but he didn't see her as a werewolf. He had never seen a female one yet, so he presumed the sense was just that of someone who was exceptional, and/or just trying to kill him. By the looks of it though, she didn't sense him in the same way. If she had reacted in any way similar, then he would be sure she was like him, but she appeared to be none the wiser. Rok finished off his moment of thought and readied for a strike, he would start off just trying to get used to her fighting style, and perhaps learning how strong she is. Going full out from the start would be very unwise.*

*He lunged at her with a powerful strike, being sure that he would be able to protect his neck from a counter. To his surprise she blocked it easily, and even managed to have a counter attack ready. Rok had to exert all his dexterity into avoiding a hit, losing his balance in the process. Lacera was not one to leave any chances untaken, and followed quickly with another careful attack. Being more cautious this time, Rok blocked off the strike with a flick of his wrist. She would have to be less held back if she was going to connect. Rok pulled his katana wide and went for a low swing, but Lacera was quick to move her katana into a good position, block, and provide a counter to the chest. Rok side-stepped and knocked her sword upwards, holding it high with his blade as he closed the distance between them. A sharp kick to the stomach made her take a step back, but there was no sign of wear.*

*Rok decided on a katana skill test for his next attack. Keeping his blade pointed towards her, he jabbed at her hand. She politely sliced the attack out of the way and jabbed back. Rok turned his sword horizontal and deftly knocked her attack sideways, swinging upwards at her arm. The blade just passed her arm as she retracted it, cutting only a bit of cloth. He followed up with a swirling motion of his wrist, trying to get her to block, but she opted to step backwards rather and prepared for her strike. What ensued was a battle of only the very tips of their blades. Both would stop their opponent from getting the blade too close by using there incredible skills and speed. Rok picked up on the pointlessness of their current tiff and, as the original attacker, decided to go in for a rather strong lunge once more, bouncing Lacera slightly backwards.*

*He became bored with the petty sword play and decided to provoke a more serious fight. It was time to test how good she really is. And with a small charge, he did just that. With his katana above his head, Rok brought it down hard, forcing Lacera to block using both hands and all her might. With the upper hand in the battle, Rok pushed her backwards in an effort to make her lose her balance, before bringing another powerful swing across from the side. Twirling around, he attacked her from the other angle, just as hard as before. He threw in a full out stab at her chest to get her to counter, and she did just that. Watching the blade coming straight for his neck, Rok ducked, turned, and cut at her legs. Barely avoiding the blade, and now off balance, Lacera lost her balance. Rok launched himself upwards and came down with another heavy blow, pulling slightly to the side to get her katana out of the way before maliciously shouldering her in the chest. Lacera stumbled slightly, but wasn't the slightest bit hurt, only more pissed off than ever. Rok raised his hand and pulled his fingers towards him, indicating an invitation to attack him. This fight had only just begun.*

---

[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

The thought of the fight being simple and one-sided turned out to be a whole different story. Unlike what she thought, his skill and strength matched her own, or could possibly have been even greater. Why this was she couldn't figure as she parried a blow and quickly reacted with a counter; only to find that the attack was foreseen and easily fended off. There was something she was missing about it, and whatever it was, she had to figure it out. Soon. Else she might actually find herself dead before even she knew it. And that wasn't exactly on her agenda for today. Stepping back and stumbling briefly when his shoulder caught her in the chest, a low snarl of anger hissed between her teeth. It was one thing to be caught and injured by a blade or bullet, it was another to be hit by flesh. That only further showed weakness in her mind, but only toward herself for being unable to foresee such a simple thing.

"You mock me," she growled. She wasn't going to go lightly, not anymore, especially when she could finally see his full potential showing through. He dared to play simple--she would show him otherwise. Though she had to be sure to temper her attitude, for it would only lead her to ruin. Taking a deep breath and curling a hand into a fist, she closed her eyes briefly and concentrated completely on him. His sole signature, his scent, simply him. When she believed to have captured it, she peered at him from half-lidded eyes. Taking a step back, she let a second pass before suddenly acting as though she were about to lunge straight forward; going directly for his chest. However, she carried herself and spun on a heel, swinging the blade hard at his side with enough force to stop and kill any other human being. But with him, he simply deflected the attack--though she thought he gave a little way. He was quick to counter and went for her unexposed waist; catching the fabric from her vest. A little too close, she thought.

Moving with him, she knew he had meant to turn this into a more-or-less heated fight, but she refused to give him that control. Instead, she tried to force it into a dance of steel, using the last rays of sun as an advantage. When he was in a position she found favorable for her own cause, she allowed the light to glint off her blade and into his face; hopefully blinding him. It was a cheap tactic and possibly even unfair everything considered, but she wasn't inclined to drop dead yet. First she had to avenge her village by killing the Werewolf who had slaughtered them, and he certainly wasn't the one--...

The world suddenly seemed to grind to a halt, so much so that she even stopped in her attacks. Foolish, for he took his chance and thrust his sword, slicing through the flesh of her hip and grating across bone. As pain emitted from the wound, she backpedaled as quickly as she could while trying to deflect any further blows; noticing the sudden fervor with which he was now going. A single, generous wound dealt and he probably thought himself with the upper hand. Which, virtually, he did with her sudden realization. Cursing herself for not having seen it sooner, she noted as the wound quickly patched itself. She was far from staying out of the battle, but the dawning of what he was made her a little less inclined to continue. "Damn it all to hell," she whispered, deflecting another blow before suddenly leaping into the air and spinning rapidly; the sword extended. It was a move she had learned from... someone, she couldn't recall who. But it always proved useful in cases like this--though it did leave her open. Perhaps a little too much.

---

Even the lullaby of quiescent death cannot still the turmoil of my nightmares.

Anthony woke up in the middle of the day. The light that sneaked between the shades burned his skin. He closed the shades completely and turned on the light. Since they didn't contain UV Rays he wasn't burned. He opened his phone and listened to the voicemail.

"You know who this is. I got your little note. What is it you want? Have you thought about what I told you, or are you just trying to let me finish what we started last night?"she asked." You may call me at this number, if you wish. Don't bother trying to trace the number to me. The man who this account belongs to has been dead for quite awhile. Farewell."

He decided he would text her. The text he sent her read

"You have no idea who I am so don't make any judgements. My name is Anthony and if you want your questions answered go to the Big Ben Clock Tower in London at 12AM tomorrow. I'll be sitting on a bench near the building. Oh, and don't bring anyone with you."

Anthony sent the text and decided to investigate the unknown creature he was supposed to kill. He took his sun umbrella and went to regions where attacks from vampires have been reported. He interviewed a few people about there so called encounters with vampires. None of them said they ever had an encounter with a creature that looked different except for a store owner who said his poultry store got broken into about a month ago. He said that he was in the store at night closing it up when he went to the back to put away the leftover meat and he heard the front window break. He peared into the front room and said he saw a dog looking thing eating all the chicken. He then said he saw it run out the store like a dog, stand up and run away.

Anthony acted as if he thought the old store owner was crazy and went to a different part of the town. A girl here said that she saw a fury thing hopping from rooftop to rooftop while the sun was still out but she figured it was a hunter. Anthony went back to him home. Could it be that they still existed he thought? He went on the computer and accessed it own profile on the V-Sec website and accessed the private search engine. He sat for a moment and then typed in "Werewolves."

---

My username has nothing to do with this!!!! --->

Vincent awoke after what seemed like forever. The dreams still lingered in his thoughts, yet edged away slightly with each passing second whilst he shook off that groggy feeling.
He winced in pain and found Niah by his side, tending to his wounds. He squinted suspiciously at his body and where the bullets had penetrated his skin.
Vampirism had saved his life. Although he wouldn't have been in this situation if it wasn't for vampirism.
Vincent propped himself up and glanced around the room. Something felt different and out of place. Well, not something...but, someone?
"Vinnie, help me get these bullets out of your body, they can't stay in there." Niah said, concerned.
"They don't really hurt. Just give me some of our blood, I have a feeling our little curse knows how to deal with a few measly bullets."
Niah sighed and gave Vincent a syringe full of blood. She didn't want him drinking anymore, the taste was too tempting.
Vincent breathed deep as the healing powers of the blood surged through his body. Amazingly, Vincent was right, the bullets were expelled from his body, slowly but surely. He then set his eyes in the corner of the room and pursed his lips.
"Now, who the hell is that?"
Niah looked down and sighed once more.
"It's the hunter"
"Marvellous." Vincent said and dropped down back onto the bed, his head sinking into the cushions.
"Bloody marvellous" Vincent mumbled, now covering his entire head.
"I couldn't just kill her! Vincent..." Niah complained, laying down next to Vincent.
"I know. I'm pretty sure I would have done the same..." Vincent said, his voice trailing off. Was he sure of that? No, he wasn't.

Niah explained and Vincent listed. She was such a compassionate soul, and as cliché as it sounds, would never harm a fly. A tear formed in his eye, and he begun hating his vampirism with immense vehemence once more.
Damn it, he thought, how conflicted can you get?
The internal struggle he had battled with since the beginning raged fiercely inside his mind.
Control, Vincent, keep control.

I suppose vampires would call this a fang gang, Vincent mused. Albeit, a pretty small fang gang, but he figured that three heads were certainly better than one.

OOC: Forgive the rushed, badly written nature of this post. Leora is cold, and I must go warm her up.

---

The only thing worse that beating a dead horse is betting on one.

       Journey was sitting on the subway with Jewel. There was no one else in the train and the only sound was coming from the subway car as it traveled over the tracks. It made Journey think about how much she used to love travelling on the train when she was a little girl. She and her little brother Jack used to have so much fun travelling with their father.  He was someone really important at his job, but the kids didn’t really know much about it. After all, how many parents share every aspect of their lives with their kids? She hadn’t thought about Jack or their father for a long time now. It hurt too much to think of how life was when it was , especially after it had gone so bad for her, in the time before she changed her name and became Journey, back when she had a family.                                                                                                                       

                                                                                 ******

   

   “Goddamit Miranda, don’t you see what you’re doing to our family?” her dad yelled at her mother. They had been fighting more and more lately. Journey was used to it. She understood what was going on a little better than Jack did. He was almost 12 and Journey was turning 14 in a couple of days.  Their mother had been leaving at night and not coming back until early in the morning disheveled and irritable. She would clean the entire house from top to bottom, sometimes scrubbing the same spot for an hour, rubbing at dirt that only she could see.  Then she would pass out for a few hours and no one could wake her. She had lost tons of weight and Journey never saw her eat anything more than an apple or something else easy to grab on her way out.

         

      Journey was pretty sure that their mom was on some type of drug, but she just told Jack that she had a new job that kept her away. Lately their father couldn’t even look at Journey anymore. She looked a lot like her mother when she was young and Journey figured that must be why. He didn’t take her with him anymore when he went out on errands.  Lately, it was just him and Jack. For the past few weeks he would take Jack to their grandmother’s house and would leave Journey alone waiting for their mom to come home. One night she wasn’t alone when she came back. This was the first time Journey met Clayton. He looked at her like she was a piece of meat. He tried to reach out and hug her but Journey took off to her room.

  

   “Miranda, tell that little *** to get back here and show me some respect.”

 

        “Don’t worry about her Clayton; just come back here with me. I thought you had a little something for me. You know I need it, I’ll give you whatever you want, just give me a little taste.” Her mother begged.

    

     “Oh, I got something for you to taste. Then you’ll get your fix. Now come on in here and show me how wide that mouth of yours can go.”

   

     Journey closed herself into her closet and covered her head with a pillow and fell asleep. She didn’t awake until later when she heard screaming.

    

     “You stupid Butch, who the **** is this?” she heard her father yelling.

   

     “Whoa, hold your tongue bro, there’s no reason we can’t share her.” Clayton said.

    

     “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I, I just needed it.” Her mother sobbed.

    

    “That’s it Miranda, I’m gone. I’m keeping Jack and you’ll never see us again!”

   

      “But what about our daughter? You can’t leave her here, I don’t want her.”

   

       “I guess you should have thought of that before you started ****ing around, huh? This has been a long time coming. You’ll never see me or our son again.” He father screamed.

   

       “Oh, don’t worry about your little girl, Miranda, I’ll take really care of her.” Clayton purred.

     

        “You sonofa…” her father began” oh, **** it!” her father said, as he slammed out of the door.

      

        Journey ran out of the bedroom and through the front door.

      

       “Daddy, please, please, don’t leave me here!” she screamed ” Please, you have to take me with you! I’ll be , I swear. You can’t leave me here with him. I don’t know what they’ll do to me! Please Daddy, you can’t go!”

      

        Her father started the car and didn’t even look in her direction. He drove off and she never saw him or her beloved brother Jack again.

                                                               ******

     

      “Journey, Journey, we’re here.” Jewel said, shaking Journey’s arm.”This is our stop, c’mon.”

    

     Journey pulled herself out of her reverie and noticed there was a message on her phone. She dialed her voicemail and listened, as she and Jewel got off the train.

    

       "You have no idea who I am so don't make any judgements. My name is Anthony and if you want your questions answered go to the Big Ben Clock Tower in London at 12AM tomorrow. I'll be sitting on a bench near the building. Oh, and don't bring anyone with you.">>

    

     Well, she’d worry about that later. First, she was going to go for a walk and clear her head.>>

    

      “Go back to the house, Jewel, or don’t I don’t care. I need some time to myself” Journey said and walked off…..

                                                     

---

   Jack sat on a bench as he watched his target stumble across the moonlit field. He wore a trench coat that concealed his sword and wooden stake, under the jacked he wore a black T-shirt and cargo pants that had assorted knifes and a silenced pistol. He had jet black hair that was shaved down to half of an inch, a scar going through his right eye, making it a very pale blue, and the other eye a dark brown. Jack finished his prayer and silently moved towards the unsuspecting drunk vampire with his wooden stake drawn out. After Jack reached within fifteen feet of the vampire, it suddenly realized that someone was following and turned around swiftly. Jack lunged at the vampire with the wooden stake, aiming for his heart. It penetrated the skin, but not the ribs, so Jack whipped out his pistol and whacked the stake with the butt of the gun several times untill it killed the vampre.

   "Damned creature just didn't know what happened." He muttered this to himself then recited a prayer. He put a penny on each eye of the vampire and walked away. At ten feet he noticed a woman walking. "Well, I think I could use me a little entertainment after this victory." He grinned and pulled out his sword.

   As he crept towards the woman he realized that it was another vampire and he stopped immediately in his tracks.

 

OOC: For being as tired as I am, I think this is a decent starting post. Go easy on it lol.

---

Go, fight, kill!

Forgive me for taking so long to reply. I've been very busy, and had to catch up in the Alignment RPs.
Anyways, you might notice that the style of this post is different. I'm trying out a different method, let me know if it's better or worse.

Lacera was unusually quick for a human female, and her strength was comparable to Rok's own. Even as he began to show his true skill, she was able to compete. Both signs of someone who is well trained, or supernaturally gifted. Not enough to make him ponder for a second over it however. What did strike his interest was her latest ability - the ability to heal herself. It was obvious she had felt pain from the blow, and he had felt the cutting through flesh and grinding on bone, not traits he shared with her. What followed afterwards did surprise him.
One would find themselves hindered if stuck as deeply as that, but not this one. The wound didn't even last very long. He watched as the flesh neatly clung together once more and mended all the broken tissue. As usual as that was, he couldn't hope but notice that she could repair herself exactly as he could.
Being the astute person he was, he quickly deduced that he was not in fact fighting a human, but rather another of his kind. His mind raced over the obvious signs that had reared their heads earlier, most importantly her scent and that niggling feeling he had that overcrowded his inherent werewolf sense.

With all these thoughts, he could not react in time to take advantage of her current weakness. Knowing that she was a werewolf, it would not have done much in any case. There was only thing he wished to know now - why this werewolf had come to London to kill another of of her kind.
He took a moment to observe her. To really look at her features. He was hoping to see some sign that should have been obvious. Her determined look and aggressive features were prominent at this time, but she had another look in her eyes; the kind you get when you realise the opponent you're fighting happens to be a supernatural being.
Coincidental that they should both make the same realisation at the same time, but not as coincidental as two werewolves landing up in London within a few days and ending up fighting one another. All this coincidence seemed to be a little too coincidental. It could only have been fate, and there was only one thing that he could easily connect with fate.

"A werewolf always finds its way back to the one who turned them," he whispered to himself. He looked up to see her face again. She was no stranger, and her signature was not the same as a normal werewolf. How vague was this calling? Could a werewolf possibly have fate push them in the direction of the one who turned them? She had mentioned that she did not know why she took the job. Perhaps it was simply fate that brought them together. He was more than willing to believe his own logic; it was yet to fail him. He could not put his finger on who she was, or when he had turned her, but it made undeniable sense to him. He would need to stall her though, as well as get a closer look at her. He might not want to kill her if she is who he thinks she is.
He stood for s second, then allowed the words to spill out of his mouth, "Why did you take the job?"

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[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

Name: Rugru

Gender: Male

Class: Rogue

It was 28th july 16:55 while on my laptop looking at the recent storys I heard some one enter my room and I turned round and saw Lewis the next door neighbor I tried to talk to him but all he said was "I am hungry so very hungry" lept towards my neck thats all I rembered.I woke up in my bed the next with blood every it was 12:00 30th July I looked in around my house where nobody is there I went to see in my mirror and I saw bite marks in my neck.I started getting visions and rembering who I was Rugru the office worker I saw my wife and kids die in the car crash I couldn't do any thing I was alone in the world

Crypt Location: SE 25 

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ty Uzi

I was walking and an old lady starts shouting at me so I go up to her and pick here up by the throught and chuck's her through the window of her house and i hear some on arguing and fighting i go over to them and punch both of them round the face with blood trickling down my arm i lick it off and i realised i enjoyed the taste of blood

i bent over the young woman and bit at her neck and sucked her blood till she was shrivlled up

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ty Uzi

Name: Daniel

Gender: Male

Class: Rogue

The bombs were falling, and he had lost his parents during the rush towards the public bomb shelter.  Daniel was alone, and terrified, great explosions levelling buildings around him, then he saw a figure.  A young looking woman, not more than 30, approaches him calmly.

"Quickly, follow me, I'll take you to a safe place!"

He was too stunned to react, she grabbed him up, as if he hardly weighed anything, and began to run.  She entered the underground station, and ran down the stairs towards safety.

"You look so much like my Billy, my poor Billy, I lost him, when I lost everything.  But I could have you stay with me, and be mine."

"What about my