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Post by Cain Heath on Mar 20, 2009 0:23:52 GMT 1
Fuck.
Dacian was a dead man. Screw carefully laid out plans for revenge, Cain was going to track him down and kill him. No. He was going to track him down, torture him and then kill him. How had the slippery bastard wormed his way out of the perfect trap? Cain had dedicated years to that plan and that stupid bitch of a girl had been too inconsiderate to die quickly. He’d kill her too while he was at it. Properly this time.
When Cain had first found out that Dacian had turned the girl, that the ministry wasn’t getting involved and there wasn’t even going to be an angry mob to tear his nemesis to pieces he’d been so enraged he’d seen red. Now he was eerily calm, channelling all that anger into the hunt. He didn’t need to stay out of Hogsmeade any more, didn’t need to hide his trail of bodies. Cain wanted Dacian to know he was coming, maybe even track him down, do all the leg work. It didn’t matter how it happened so long as he took the other vampire out once and for all.
He skulked into the gloom of the alleyway behind Scores, ears straining to fix on a heartbeat over the thumping bass of the music inside. It was the perfect place to hunt, secluded, dark, a popular spot for staff or customers looking to do something disreputable and there were handy bins to stash away what was left of the body. Anticipation thrummed through him as he latched onto the sound of somebody making their way to the exit. A woman, he guessed from the sound of teetering heels on wooden flooring.
She slipped out into the night air and a snarl rumbled from Cain’s throat, making her turn as fear built up, affecting her breathing and heart rate in a way that was delicious even before he’d tasted a drop of her blood. Unlike Dacian he didn’t need the element of surprise, it was better when they knew he was coming, it added to the thrill. He lunged forwards, catching her wrist before she could go for her wand, although where she kept it in an outfit as skimpy as that he didn’t know. He’d enjoy draining the life out of her.
Now, where to bite first? [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 20, 2009 15:44:15 GMT 1
Was it possible to replace a Sick Day with an Illness Charge? An employee calls in sick, and instead has to pay the workplace for lost labour, inconvenience, the privilege of staying home and half the pay-checks of everyone having to pick up the slack. Great for the business, but the staff would likely have a thing or two to say about it. Whiny employees wasn’t the problem however, it was the fact the courts and unions would most likely agree with them.
Bah, wizarding society hadn’t quite grasped the concept of ‘capitalism’ yet.
It wasn’t as much of an issue when it was just a dancer not showing up, because there were always girls looking to take more shifts. When it was, say, your manager – you know, the one that does paid staff schedules, training, inventory, ordering, supplying, menus, promotions, advertising, accounts payable and receivable, licensing, event schedules, day-to-day management and God knows what else – then you had a problem.
Or, more specifically, Silas had a problem.
A problem that was driving him steadily batshit insane at that. There was just something about paperwork that always inspired him to imminent homicide, and there was no way that was improving when his workload had just become ten times more difficult. The words ‘Silas’ and ‘prolonged concentration’ got on about as well as Dacian and crucifixes. One thing was for sure, and that was he was never going to comprehend Jacaranda and her parchment fetish any time soon.
One weekly inventory check, four supply orders, account edits, proposed promotion budget for Jacaranda and almost an entire bottle of black Vodka later, Silas had reached his allotted limit of frustration. Fuck this, he needed a walk. Snatching the bottle off his desk he sealed the door to his office before disappearing off to patrol the inside of the building. The dimmer lighting was refreshing after the blinding desk lamp, but despite the benefit of thought-numbing music and a change of scene it still took what little restraint he had left not to smash said bottle over someone’s head to cause a fight just for something, anything, to do.
Hmm, maybe Ed was up for a round of fun. Fuck, even Dacian would do at this stage, at least he was interesting.
It was merely impulse that made him decide to follow one of the dancers out as she slipped through the fire escape to have her break. The staff had been warned against using the back exits ever since the Dacian-scare but apparently the morons still felt determined to get into trouble. Her reasons had to be interesting if she was willing to risk becoming junk food. Besides, a woman alone was only bad if you were the woman. Catching sight of the brunette looking furtively left to right then slipping through the door, Silas hurried over and managed to catch it before it shut in order to quietly follow.
The sudden drop in temperature from the warm, heated club to snowy British midnight was less than pleasant. To make it worse someone had knocked out the lights in the rear of the club making it impossible for Silas to see very far without first letting his eyes adjust so he heard the commotion before he saw it: a deep, guttural snarl almost like an animal but with a distinct human quality, followed by a woman screaming. It took less than a quarter of a second for Silas’s mind to reach a conclusion and in a flash his wand was up pointing at the two indistinct figures.
”Dacian you sack of shit, at least have the balls to face me properly!”
The shapes started getting clearer and something was definitely wrong. The man’s build wasn’t the same as Dacian’s and he was undoubtedly taller. The momentary indecision showed on Silas’s face and it was enough to stop him firing off a particularly nasty spell immediately, risk of hitting the girl be damned.
Who the fuck was this guy? || Edit || 666 words. Hah! || |
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Post by Cain Heath on Mar 21, 2009 14:48:07 GMT 1
It was dark in the alley, thanks to a few well placed throws that had knocked the lights out at the back of the club. This suited Cain just fine, he could see plenty well enough in the gloom to take in this hooker’s fear and he had his senses to bolster the panic running through her. He could smell it on her and hear her heartbeat thundering in his ears. It consumed him, making it almost impossible to concentrate on anything but this exchange between predator and prey. Almost.
Another rumbling growl escaped his lips, his eyes flashing angrily as he looked at the intruder, pulling the woman closer to him so she couldn’t even think of escaping him. It had the added advantage of putting her between him and the man who had pulled out a wand, a human shield often made people at least hesitate before attacking. In the time it took for a mortal to hesitate Cain could do oh so much damage.
Dacian. Cain’s grip on the woman’s wrist tightened in a way that would definitely leave a bruise and was inches away from crushing bone. He would never take insult of being compared to that sorry excuse for a vampire, especially not from a human. How did he even know the vampire? It didn’t matter, Cain didn’t need help finding Dacian. He would find him, he would kill him and he could do both of those things without degrading himself by talking to his food.
His hand traced to the woman’s neck, feeling the thrum of her heartbeat beneath his fingertips. ”I am not Dacian.” Cain snarled, his detest of the other vampire all too clear in the way he spat the name. ”That you know his name and still live means you aren’t worth killing, leave before I decide you’re next on my menu.” The foolish human did not need to know that Dacian was practically tame, but he did need to be dealt with quickly, before the delicious scent of the woman’s fear made him too hungry to resist feeding. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 23, 2009 0:08:01 GMT 1
Not worth killing?
Seriously?
Cain had just come dangerously close to making it personal. Of all the things to try and prove someone wrong over it was hardly the most advisable, but then again Silas wasn’t known for rational trains of thought. He actually looked vaguely taken aback, like the vampire had just called him stupid and he gripped the neck of the vodka bottle a little harder. Cain, whether intentionally or not now, had just issued a challenge. Not worth killing? They’d see about that.
Another angry vampire in Hogsmeade deciding to attack his workers over anyone else, and he knew Dacian by the sound of it. What the hell was going on?
The girl was a problem as well. Kestrel was it? The faces of the two were steadily getting brighter now, but seeing details was as yet impossible.
Silas made up upwards slashing movement with his wand to deactivate the protective charms over the dancer. The general rule of picking hostages was to make sure the other party actually gave a shit about the life of the captive and Silas had no qualms with shooting her through the shoulder as long as the bullet finished up in Cain. With a disconcerting whoosh from the end of Silas’s wand the girl shrieked loudly before her voice was cut off mid-scream, all of her extremities greying and hardening, leaving instead a macabre stone statue in her place, rough granite face still twisted in terror.
There. Now she couldn’t run off and attract attention and the vampire could neither eat her nor use her as a bargaining chip. The spell was mercifully reversible, so he could wake her up later and obliterate what just happened from her mind with the aid of a memory charm, illegal spell or not.
”No, I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Silas snapped harshly, rounding the wand to face what was meant to be between Cain’s eyes, but his aim was slightly to the right due to the larger than normal amount of alcohol in his system. The abhorrence in the stranger’s voice at Dacian’s name hadn’t escaped his notice, but it had taken him a lot longer than usual to come to the obvious conclusion for the same reason his aim was off and he hadn’t realised there were easier ways than turning a girl into solid rock.
”Oh, I see. Cain or Abel? Which is it?” |
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Post by Cain Heath on Mar 24, 2009 22:14:09 GMT 1
Cain’s control on the situation slipped just as little as the intruder cast his spell on the woman. Her heartbeat vanished, the alleyway feeling eerily quiet without the thunder of it in his ears. The pulse of this man was poor substitute, barely elevated. One could be mistaken for thinking her was taking a brisk walk rather than facing down a murderous vampire. Her scent had also dampened considerably, the cloying, unpleasant mix if trash and alcohol filtering in to replace it as her soft, pliable skin turned to stone beneath his fingertips.
That he no longer had prey to fixate on was all Silas’s fault and he was going to pay for it dearly. Fucking wizards. When Cain lost control of a situation he reacted with irrational violence and this situation was no different. ”Wrong answer little man.” He growled and he might normally have been a little wary at the sight of a wand pointing in his direction, but this time he did not even pause before launching around the petrified woman and barrelling into Silas, knocking him squarely back into the wall and pinning him.
Cain reached for Silas’s wrist slamming it against the bricks to try and dislodge the wand from his grip and negate the minimal threat it faced. Even aiming in the wrong direction there were several spells that could do fatal amounts of damage. He also pressed the forearm of his other arm across Silas’s throat with every intention of crushing his windpipe. That wasn’t a self defence mechanism, that was just for shits and giggles.
He reeked of alcohol, it was on his breath, his skin and no doubt laced in his blood. He needn’t have concerned himself with the wand then, smelling as strongly as he did he was surprised Silas had even been standing, let alone been able to aim and cast a spell with any degree of accuracy. That he appeared to Cain’s name, now that was cause to be concerned. Wizards meddling in the affairs of vampires was never a good thing. First they hunted them, then they gave them rights. In Cain’s opinion the worst thing to ever happen to vampires, now they were expected to follow the rules.
”Where did you learn that name?” He snarled, lip curling in disgust at Silas’s smell and not bothering to clarify which name he meant. Cain was not going to reveal his identity until he was certain he’d learnt everything he could from Silas and could kill him. He’d made the mistake of playing his cards too soon before and because of it Dacian was still walking around. Not a mistake he wanted to repeat. ”Answer carefully.” Belatedly he loosened the press of his arm on Silas’s windpipe, remembering it was generally quite difficult to speak with your throat being crushed. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 25, 2009 13:49:17 GMT 1
Silas barely had a chance to react in the time it took Cain to lunge at him. The vodka had already done a fair job of inhibiting his response time so he was in trouble even with or without Cain’s supernatural speed to pose another problem. Once again Silas foresaw danger without the ability to do anything about it except attempt the first thing that came to his head and hope for the best. Just fucking brilliant.
“Confrin-” The incantation for a blasting curse died on his lips as Cain collided into him with what felt like the force of a freight cart. Even though Cain wasn’t intentionally trying to break any ribs (yet), the impact was colossal due to the vampires strength and the bottle of vodka smashed against the wall into several lethal looking shards. The back of Silas’s head made a satisfying cracking sound against the bricks as he hit, causing him to give a loud “ARGH!” of pain. Well, on the plus side there wasn’t a problem with lack of lights, they were the only thing he was seeing now.
As Cain attempted to violently remove his wand it automatically started hissing some angry red and gold sparks. Despite his effort to hold on Silas was eventually forced to let go due to the large amount of skin being shorn off his knuckles from repeated strikes against the abrasive surface of the wall. The stick of elm fell off abandoned to the side as Cain’s arm compressed against Silas’s throat.
This was now his second time being choked by a vampire and the sensation didn’t exactly get any easier. Silas’s mouth opened but only a rasp came out as his voice box was pushed painfully backwards to dig into the sensitive area in the back of his throat. Even though there was a bit of an obvious risk associated with waving a conspicuously bleeding hand near a vampire’s nose, Silas flung both of them up to desperately grip onto Cain’s forearm as it crushed excruciatingly against his windpipe in a vain attempt to pull the other man off. It was lucky Silas kept his nails trimmed or odds were they’d be digging into Cain’s arm.
After a few sinister words the pressure finally lifted and Silas took a few ragged breaths for air, although the freezing, icy temperature probably did more harm than good. To add insult to injury Silas also noticed he was feeling vaguely lightheaded from what appeared to have been a cut-off blood supply. Jesus, what was it with vampires and strangulation? The flashing lights from the blow to the head were starting to clear and he could see the vampire was older than he’d first expected. That answered his question as to who it was. Abel was younger. Interesting.
Silas’s first instinct wasn’t to keep trying to fight back (even though he didn’t let go of Cain’s forearm, blood dribbling from his knuckles to his sleeve notwithstanding), or spout something sarcastic, or anything else to be expected. It was, instead, to laugh. Not the nervous, mildly hysterical giggling generally used by some a coping mechanism either, but full, uproarious laughter. If Cain was to be struck by the notion he was about to dispatch an utter madman to the Almighty, Silas would have forgiven him. Shit, he couldn't even explain his own behaviour when he was sober, let alone now.
Oh man, he’d just been tackled by the opportunity of a lifetime.
“Ah, it’s Cain then. Abel was 27 age of death,” Silas grinned widely with a sinister chuckle, eyes flashing, after the manic bout of jollity was over. His voice came out rather hoarse through his pained throat. “I know who you are, Methuselah, because I’ve been waiting to offer you a guarantee that you can get Dacian’s head on a platter for a while, and that offer still stands if you get off me in the next ten seconds.” |
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Post by Cain Heath on Mar 28, 2009 5:27:28 GMT 1
There was something incredibly frustrating about Silas. While he scrabbled at Cain’s arm for air, as oxygen was always a requirement for mortals, he seemed to be refusing to be intimidated by the vampire. It was an entirely unsatisfactory gesture in the direction of fear, more self preservation than anything else and even that seemed to be somewhat lacking. The whole illusion, which had been weak in the first place, that Silas was the slightest bit afraid was ruined when he started laughing.
Cain had heard laughs like that before, vampires tended to stray towards the eccentric end of the spectrum as anybody who could live forever wasn’t likely to be a well adjusted individual. He hated people like that, people that refused to let a good beating get to them, always knew more than they were saying and had know problem alluding to just how much they knew by wearing a constantly smug expression. Cain wanted to smash his stupid face in.
The only reason he didn’t was because it turned out to be more true than Cain could ever have predicted when he’d thought Silas looked like he knew more than he was letting on. Vampires were private creatures and they didn’t appreciate humans and especially wizards sticking their noses in where they didn’t belong, so the fact that he had enough background knowledge to piece together who Cain was, was a reason to be concerned. Not full on worry, when push came to shove the man was still only human after all.
”You ruined my meal, human.” He rumbled menacingly even as he released his hold on Silas. He would get all the information he needed then kill the man, there was no point wasting a good source when it presented itself to you. ”Explain to me why I shouldn’t just chow down on you to make up for it.” Cain demanded, eyes on the wand Silas had dropped, ready to pin Silas down again if he made a lunge for it. ”What could I possibly need from a wizard.” The last word was said with such disdain you would be forgiven for thinking he was referring to shit on the sole of his shoe. Yeah, Cain had some bad memories of fucking, no good magical folk. [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 28, 2009 6:30:47 GMT 1
Ergh, that was better. Silas could actually breathe properly now for one, which was always welcome. Why did human bodies have to be so infuriatingly fragile? Silas grimaced visibly as he raised his left hand up to massage this throat as Cain spoke. The pain seemed to be migrating from his neck up to his forehead. There wasn’t going to be any lasting damage but it was much more preferable if he didn’t have to get physically assaulted in the first place.
As he was doing so Silas’s thumb accidentally brushed lightly against the thin chain around his neck holding the crucifix under his shirt. Shit, how’d he manage to forget about that one? Tempting, but likely counterproductive if he wanted to try and convince Cain into doing his dirty work. On the plus side now he wasn’t completely helpless if Cain decided he wanted to play a second round. He didn’t need to use it unless the vampire forced his hand on the matter.
“Well you’ve done a pretty piss-poor job of dealing with Dacian so far,” Silas challenged, feeling his back bump against the wall again. He was foolishly confident he could talk his way out of anything to come, but being sandwiched wasn’t exactly the best position to be in. With an intentional casualness he slowly started sliding in the direction of his wand to get out from his rather precarious location. “I’m offering you him and his little pet for free, signed and delivered, or you can stalk him for another 200 years. Your choice.” |
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Post by Cain Heath on Mar 29, 2009 10:41:38 GMT 1
A deep growl rumbled in Cain’s throat. What did he know about what Cain had done to ‘deal with’ Dacian? Cain hated it when wizards began to meddle in the affairs of vampires, like Cain wanted or needed the help of a fragile human. Silas was definitely suicidal. It was never a good idea to insult the guy who could squash his head like it was a melon. The vampire was tempted to grab him and demonstrate, but what Silas said next made him pause.
”Don’t move.” He snarled, hand shooting out to shove Silas against the wall once more. It wasn’t a hard push, Cain was holding back so he could glean more information from the man. Unfortunately for Silas, Cain’s version of holding back meant only winding him rather than shoving Silas’s ribs through his spine. He’d only seen the subtle move in the direction of the wand because he was looking for it, sneaky son of a bitch.
Pet? Cain could only assume he meant the girl that Dacian had foolishly turned in order to save her. Yes, Cain would like an opportunity to get his hands on that stupid little bitch, teach her a thing or too about the consequences of ruining his plans. ”The girl?” His face twisted into a grin that wasn’t entirely sane. ”You can get her for me? I’d like a chance to finish the job properly.” He grabbed Silas’s wrist, pulling him away from the wall and slapping him on the back a few times.
It was meant to be a friendly gesture, but it had been a long time since Cain had done anything other than tear a human to shreds while he ate. Which is why he felt he could forgive himself for almost knocking Silas over in the process. ”You know, for a human you aren’t half bad.” He grinned, fangs on full display. While he was making himself useful Cain could see a prosperous friendship between them. And hey, if it didn’t work out it was a hassle free meal. ”Tell me exactly how you intend to help.” [/font] |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 31, 2009 0:28:51 GMT 1
Again with the shoving. Before he could even make an attempt to get out of the way Silas found himself smashed up against the wall a second time with a loud grunt as all the air was forced from his chest. “Don’t move,” right. He’d settle for being able to breathe again first. Fuck how he hated being winded. It took a moment for his lungs to actually accept air again and Silas had to try and not double over while he focused on his breathing. That was just undignified. If he found a bruise in the shape of Cain’s hand over his diaphragm tomorrow he honestly wouldn’t be surprised.
Thankfully Cain didn’t seem to want to deal out any more physical punishment, which was lucky as even Silas was starting to get the point through his thick, conceited skull that if Cain wanted to do something there was no way he was going to be able to stop him. That conclusion was pretty much cinched when Cain almost dislocated his wrist by yanking him away from the wall then proceeding to almost sending him sprawling several times. It was a gesture of camaraderie, but even still, ow. On the brains vs brawn scale Cain seemed to swing all the way into the latter, but Silas recognised he still had to tread carefully as the vampire seemed to have no hang-ups with letting his fists do the negotiating.
All he had to do now was prove he was useful without immediately outliving his worth. Straightening himself up, Silas took a second to hurriedly brush off the front and back of his clothing before speaking. Now seemed as good a time as any to put an idea he’d been toying with privately into the light. He wouldn’t have been able to undertake it himself without attracting to too much attention but now Cain was conveniently there to take the blame for everything.
“By giving you a strategy, for one thing,” Silas began, explaining everything slowly for emphasis and keeping an eye on the vampire. “You want to draw Dacian out onto your playing-field instead of blindly running after him. He’s not an idiot, it’s not something he’d usually fall for, which is why you limit his options and make him an offer he can’t refuse. He’s been seeing someone. A woman. And he’s rather protective of her, I might add,” he stressed leisurely with a sly grin. “I can giftwrap her for you for the taking. I’ll also stop any of her pesky friends and relatives from knowing a thing. And I can make sure Dacian knows only what he needs to know to be sent to the correct locale. I can magically fortify whatever location you like and I’ll give you the tools you need to succeed.” Simple enough. “All I ask... is a guarantee that you can stick Dacian’s head on a pike.” Metaphorically, but hey, literally worked too. It felt a lot like making a very delicate sales pitch.
“Now... if I reach for my wand to put it away, are you going to try and stop me?” |
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