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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Feb 2, 2009 13:42:20 GMT 1
||OoC|| The last time I let Ann name my threads. || It was dark.
And quiet.
Vivian felt groggy.
The cool air felt almost stale and smelt vaguely of alcohol and dust, which was the first thing she noticed before she even opened her eyes. There was just a dirty, wooden ceiling to see anyway. Most of the patrons had gone home so the cellar was free from the usual pub noises of shouting, laughing and scraping chairs drifting down through the floorboards. She was lying on her back on something hard and uncomfortable, the silence was almost supernatural and the place was surprisingly well lit for no visible light source.
It took her a moment to wonder why she wasn’t in bed in the Gryffindor Common Room like she should be, then it all came flooding back: The shack. Scotty. The dare. The attack. Blood. A boot to the face, blackness.
Vivian’s first instinct was to panic. With a loud shout she attempted to fling herself off the table only to be brought up by ropes attached to her wrists and ankles that were binding her. Their presence was terrifying. All she could think to do was scream and kick to high heaven, crying, thrashing, whatever she could to get loose but the effort was futile.
Vivian’s thoughts came in more of a jumble than any sort of clear pattern. Where was the here? Why was this happening? By who? Was there a way out?
After about a minute her struggles ceased. The ropes wouldn’t yield. Tears were streaming down the sides of Vivian’s face and her breathing was coming out shallow and ragged, mixed with dry sobs. Her throat was tight, mouth was dry and she was unable to think clearly. Her ears were peeled for sound but there were to be none. The only thing she could think was that the man who attacked her had taken her somewhere, but where and for what purpose she didn’t know.
Her bindings allowed little room, but none the less she attempted to look around at her prison. It seemed to be a storage cellar judging by all the crates and boxes except for one key difference. If her heart could have stopped twice it undoubtedly would have done so.
There was a man in the corner. Somehow, she doubted he was there for anything good. If that was the case he would have untied her a long time ago.
With a fresh wave of cries for help in a mangled mix of English and Russian, Vivian redoubled her escape attempt, every impulse telling her to get as far away from the stranger as possible.
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Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
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Post by Dacian on Feb 2, 2009 15:38:22 GMT 1
He’d watched her since the middle of the afternoon. Sat on his favoured keg-stool, he’d sat and he’d waited not unlike a father waiting for the delivery of his unborn child. He felt the moment the sun dipped behind the horizon, as if the constant weight on his shoulders had been lifted. It was like that every sunset, but he hadn’t taken notice of the sensation in a long while. His eyes were keen on the girl laid out before him, but there was no sign of life. For a dozen minutes, he thought the conversion had not worked. Had she lost too much blood, not been given enough?
No. Her face and scars were healed. She bore no signs of an attack but for a few glossy scars on her neck that would fade with time. His blood had done its work, and a peek at her teeth in the early evening had shown her fangs had grown. She was ready to wake, and finally she did. He recognised that blank confusion in her eyes as soon as they opened. The body was convinced it was dead, but the signals from her brain thought otherwise. To begin with, it would be hazy, and then things would come into overwhelming focus one by one.
The screaming began, and Dacian was half convinced he shouldn’t have tied her down. He could control her himself, but he couldn’t risk her fleeing into the throng of humans, confused and newly turned. There was no telling what sort of havoc she would wreak. Should have gagged her? No, that would have scared her more so. Waking from death was frightening enough. Waking in an unfamiliar dark room, tied, with a stranger looming in the corner was enough. “Vivian,” he was hoping the use of her name might snap her out of her second lapse, “Vivian, you are safe. Please, stop struggling.”
Her suspicion was well founded. Why should she trust a man she didn’t know in a place she’d never been? “Vivian, please. I’ll explain it all once you stop shouting.” He raised his voice over hers. “My name is Dacian, and I’m here to help you.” He was at a loss as to how to prove this. Only one thing came to mind, and he didn’t like it. “Vivian, I will be right back – please, calm down?” He stood for the first time, pausing before walking to the door ij the corner and exiting into a candlelit stairwell.
Finding the worried landlord was easy enough. He just followed the sound of his pounding heartbeat. He found himself an old scrap of scroll and a quill and wrote three words on it. Taking it to Edward, he put the note in his hand. “Send this to Connery.”
He returned back down to the basement. At least the screaming had stopped for now. He opened to door and stepped in. “Are we finished now?” He shut the door resolutely behind him, sitting back on his stool. He was anticipating Connery might take a while to make it down to the village, so he had a fair while to try and convince the girl that she was safe with him before ‘backup’ arrived to confirm that. “Try and keep calm, it will be harder if you do not.”
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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Feb 3, 2009 6:09:16 GMT 1
The use of her name had the desired effect. Vivian stopped screaming at least but she kept pulling against the ropes, hands writhing desperately. In the absence of screams she had resigned herself to gritted teeth and dry sobs, eyes slammed shut as though if she couldn’t see it it couldn’t hurt her. How did he know who she was?
Dacian was talking, but Vivian was only able to half listen. Fear was doing its work too well, clogging up her mind, not letting her think. The only thing left was the flight or fight response which was telling her to get the hell out, now. His words of reassurance, although genuine, sounded horribly fake to her ears. Help. Right, help. If he was there to help why was she tied to a frigging table?
As he stood up her sense of horror doubled. The breath caught in her throat and for a moment she was convinced he was going to walk over and shut her up himself. The sense of relief when he only walked out was immeasurable.
As he left the sense of urgency faded a little. She was still mostly out of her mind but her head was clicking back into gear. She tested each of the knots individually in the vain hope one of them would give, but to no avail. Where was her wand? If she could reach it then she could- ... Oh no. It was at the shack! The sense of desperation was rising and Vivian felt herself almost paralyse as she heard the door to the room shut and footsteps come down the stairs and she felt herself start to sweat. He was back! If he saw her still trying to get away?
Dacian’s second attempts to calm her only made things worse. Vivian shrunk back away from him as far as the restraints allowed, shaking heavily with wide, petrified eyes and a style of breathing that sounded almost like hyperventilating. ‘Be quiet? You’ll only make things harder if you struggle?’ That sounded like a classic 70s film threat to shut up or get your head bashed in if there ever was one.
Vivian was getting the distinct impression she wasn’t going to get out of this alive. Oh, if only she knew.
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Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
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Post by Dacian on Feb 3, 2009 14:42:48 GMT 1
Dacian sighed and put his face in his hands for a moment. Of the four vampires he’d sired, Vivian was the only one who hadn’t realised what was going on before she died. She didn’t already know who he was, and what he was. Contrary to popular belief, Dacian was not a stereotypical vampire. The women he’d turned had all consented fully to their new life. Vivian was the exception, and Dacian had been berating himself over it for the last three days. But he’d had no choice. She was near death, and it had been his fault. The least he could do was to give her a choice. If she couldn’t adapt to her new body, he would dutifully end it for her, but first she needed time to acclimatise.
“You’re scared of me. By rights, you should be, but you have no need to. I will not hurt you, Vivian, I am here to help you. To prove it, Professor Connery is on his way. Will you believe me then? Connery will only repeat what I say: I’m here to help.” It was frustrating in the least. He could smell her fear, but without her heartbeat, only her body language screamed out her fear. A racing pulse would make it easier to deal with. He wished he could sedate her, but he knew that was impossible too.
“Listen to me now, Vivian, I must tell you some things before Connery arrives. We are still in Hogsmeade. We’re in the cellar of the Hogs Head. You were attacked, and I saved you. You have been… unconscious for three days. When Connery gets here, I need to you try and describe your attacker. It’s very important that we know who it was. I know you don’t trust me, but you will soon enough.” It was almost painful to deliver words to that fearful girl. Anything she heard from him would be rejected. He was hoping Connery would be able to convince her he was not here to hurt her. If only he could untie her.
“You are tied for your own safety. Something that I will explain to you later has changed you. You might not be able to control your actions. It will be difficult, but listen to what Connery has to say and nothing else. Try and ignore whatever else you might hear.” He remembered the first time he had heard a human heartbeat. He’d savaged that young Frenchman, tore into his throat, killed him painfully for his first taste of blood. Oh how wondrous it had been. He’d refined his tastes now, but the first meal was always the most irresistible, the most insatiable. Connery’s heart would sing to her, lure her, and awaken the hunger that would drive her for the rest of eternity. If she wasn’t tied, Connery was as good as dead.
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Adrian Connery
Adult
Gryffindor Head of House and Auror
Mysterious; another word for boring.
Posts: 110
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Post by Adrian Connery on Feb 6, 2009 9:12:21 GMT 1
Priorities, Adrian’s had changed somewhat over the last three days. In class he’d been quiet and distant from his students, a stark opposite of his usual self. He could hardly be blamed for it; currently his thoughts were in the basement of the Hog’s Head lying on a table. Since the attack the man had remembered about and researched vampires endlessly. Three days is what it took for the transformation and those three days had now passed.
Sighing Adrian looked out his window. The sky was dark and cloud cover veiled the stars. In the air there was a feeling of apprehension and the tension of the knowledge that something was about to happen. But most of all it was quiet, the deep breath before the plunge into the unknown.
The terror of facing Vivian once again very much alive but so confused and scared weighed on the professor heavily and he dreaded when a note from Dacian would arrive. As if on cue, an owl he recognised as Edward Johns’ appeared at his window. Unfurling the note it held in its grasp confirmed Adrian’s fears. It was from Dacian.
She awakes. Come.
Three words were all that was scrawled on the scrap piece of parchment. A small, insignificant sentence that had so many consequences, so much impact. Grudgingly Adrian turned to his fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder. In a flash of emerald flames he was standing in the main section of the Hog’s Head staring reluctantly in the direction of the basement stairs. Biding his time, the man started in the direction of the stairs but not before stopping at the bar and having a drink, or a couple of drinks.
What was he going to say to Viv? What was her reaction going to be? Already he could feel it wouldn’t be a good. He willed the stairs to go on forever so that he never had to reach the basement door. Unfortunately they came to an abrupt end and left Adrian staring at the thick wood door to the cellar.
Not bothering to knock, he stepped quietly through the door and saw that Vivian was indeed awake and her reaction to all this had been what he’d expected. But just because he’d expected it didn’t mean he was ready for it.
“Vivian, it’s me, Professor Connery,” Adrian said firmly. She seemed to be lucid and was hopefully willing to listen to him. “Vivian listen to me, this is Dacian. You can trust him, he saved you,” saved, the word tasted bitter on Adrian’s tongue, ‘damned you for eternity,’ is what he’d have rather said.
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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Feb 6, 2009 11:48:57 GMT 1
Only half of Dacian’s reassuring words were penetrating again. Keywords and phrases mostly, and none of them words she wanted to hear. Attacked. Unconcious. Your attacker. Tied. Your own safety. Changed. Control. Difficult. Although still visibly agitated she was no longer acting like she could be willing to rip off her own hand to get away. Facts were materialising and although it wasn’t something she wanted to hear it was better than not knowing what was going on and letting her frightened mind fill in the blanks.
Besides, he’d said Connery. Connery would be here soon. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, the nearest authority figure, and what sounded like a knight in shining armour at the moment. His name actually did more to calm her than anything else. If a teacher was on their way it couldn’t be as bad as all that, could it?
She heard the footsteps first, lingering at the top of the basement then moving hesitantly down the steps. Then the heartbeat. A little fast - worried - and Vivian had only enough time to wonder at how loud it seemed in her ears before it was suddenly the only thing filling her head. By the time Adrian opened the door Vivian was ominously still, eyes unblinking and watching the door.
The look she gave Adrian as he walked through the door was strangely blank, as though hypnotised. She didn’t care why she was here, or what was happening, or where she was, or who he was; all there was was the steady ba-bump of a heart. It was in her skull, driving everything else out. Her stomach hurt, her jaw ached, and Vivian’s mouth opened, her upper lip pulled back and nose wrinkled as though she was snarling, revealing a new pair of wickedly sharp fangs.
Without warning Vivian suddenly lurched forwards with a volatile hiss before the ropes sharply stopped her. Seemingly forgetting she was tied to the table she made another desperate attempt to reach Adrian before her situation seemed to come back to her. Rather than calming down Vivian only became enraged, screaming again and trashing for all it was worth, trying to tear away from the table to get to Adrian and rip him to shreds in her bloodlust. His heartbeat was an all-consuming drum. The shrieking, the anger, the viciousness... for a moment Vivian was no longer there as she fought and shrieked like a wild animal for the opportunity to turn Adrian into a human smoothie.
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Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
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Post by Dacian on Feb 6, 2009 12:21:13 GMT 1
Wizard transport was a subject Dacian knew little about. He'd assumed Connery would come on a broom, thus giving him at least some time to prepare Vivian. He had not counted on non-linear transport in the form of floo powder so when the door opened, Dacian was not ready, and neither was Vivian.
He could hear that heartbeat just as well as Vivian, but he could filter it out, dim it, make it less important. To Vivian, it was everything. The sound would consume her. He saw her stiffen, saw the lack of expression in her eyes as the heartbeat came closer. Then Connery was in sight and as if possessed by the very sound, the calm before the storm broke.
"What the bloody fuck, Connery, KNOCK!" The table, made of solid oak, began to groan under the strain of holding a famished changeling. If it didn't break, the ropes would. Dacian leaped into action, forcing his weight onto her chest, his forearm braced over her collar. The other hand forced her jaw closed, holding her head up at a painful angle so she couldn't see the dear Professor. Holding her mouth closed would keep her from shredding her lips from the damned fangs, another thing she would have to get used to.
Defense Against the Dark Arts, eh? Wasn't he supposed to know a thing or two about vampires? With a snarl louder than Vivian's, he shot a glare over his shoulder. "Get the Hell out, Connery, now." He turned his full attention back to wrestling Vivian back into a prone position. It was a testament to her newfound strength that the six-hundred-year-old vampire had to put effort into holding her back.
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Adrian Connery
Adult
Gryffindor Head of House and Auror
Mysterious; another word for boring.
Posts: 110
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Post by Adrian Connery on Feb 7, 2009 10:12:48 GMT 1
Adrian had expected Dacian’s reaction and positively revelled in it. Pissing the vampire off was so much fun, now he knew how Silas felt with Ed. “Fuck you, do you think I’m an idiot? I knew you’d have her tied down. Dick,” he snapped curtly. Really he had no patience for Dacian and his snide ways, not tonight. Obviously he wasn’t actually needed so Adrian supposed he could probably wander back upstairs until Vivian got over her new found bloodlust.
“Well then, I’ll leave you to control her for a little while then, anyone would think you’re new at this,” he remarked snidely, he was just calling the vamp up on his franticness. Instead of leaving straight away, Adrian folded his arms and leant against the door to watch Viv for a moment. He barely recognised the girl; the look of supernatural hunger in her eyes was so against the girl’s nature. Connery frowned, deep in thought before turning to leave. Dacian could go fuck himself; if he thought Adrian was here to help him he was wrong. He was here to help Vivian through this.
"You called me here remember?" he called over his shoulder and, without looking back, Adrian strolled up the stairs and sat himself on a barstool. “Ed! Drink of water please,” he shouted and then drank deeply from the glass that had been placed in front of him.
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Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
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Post by Dacian on Feb 7, 2009 10:50:42 GMT 1
"Pillock." Dacian promptly replied to the insult. Did he think he was in the right here? Yes, he'd invited him here, but for one, he hadn't thought he'd be here so soon, and he would of at least assume the man had manners or at least common sense! Vivian seemed unresponsive to his attempts to get her to lie still. She was hungering for blood now, and he didn't think the need to drink would subside any time soon.
Hastily uncuffing his shirt on the hand that had been holding her head, he pulled the sleeve up with his teeth and pressed the vulnerable wrist to her mouth. He wasn't an obvious source of food -- he had no pulse to draw her to bite -- but the instinct would likely recognise a target as as soon as she bita and she would know what to do. He clenched his teeth, well aware of the pain that was about to ensue. It was unlikely she would play nice, and while getting a savaged forearm was not on his agenda of things to do, it was that or feed Connery to her. Although he was a colossal prick, he might get in trouble for that. It was tempting though.
'New at this', indeed. Albeit Vivian wasn't exactly a typical chageling and these were far from preferable circum stances but he was working with what he had which in this case was himself.
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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Feb 7, 2009 13:01:06 GMT 1
Vivian could still hear Adrian’s heartbeat even as he left and shut the door behind him. She seemed to barely even notice Dacian’s presence to be honest; he was like a non-entity. Every time he forced her down she just attempted to push back harder to reach Connery, growing more and more enraged as the seconds ticked by. She wanted blood – needed blood – but she couldn’t fucking get it!
Without warning something was being jammed into her mouth. More out of a desire to attack it and get rid of it than anything, Vivian bit down hard. Her new teeth easily pierced through the flesh and Vivian almost accidentally ended up leaving a large gaping hole in Dacian’s wrist just from the force of the bite alone. Immediately blood started oozing from the wound rather than pouring out as it usually would, but the sudden taste was enough to distract her from Adrian completely and to what was now in front of her.
Her actions then were exactly what Dacian had expected. Thanks to his lack of circulation Dacian’s blood was coming neither thick nor fast enough for her taste so Vivian did the only thing she could think of; bite, rip and savage every piece of flesh she could reach. When that yielded an equally poor result she gave a guttural growl and clamped her teeth around his wrist properly, slicing through the muscle and larger veins before sucking greedily, as though attempting to draw a thick soup through a narrow straw.
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