Search for the Lost
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Search for the Lost
I had spent the night looking feverishly for the little girl. Feverishly, because I feared she may be dead or worse, and feverishly, because I don’t do well on pigeon blood. I must have been pulling a record high fever of 45 degrees. Not that I’ve ever taken my temperature as a vampire, or even registered on heat detectors, but that’s what I felt like.
The night had been shockingly droll, considering there was an extra dead girl lurking about. So when I scented him, I wasn’t sure how I should react. But I figured his mission was the same as mine tonight. I guessed at his trajectory and took a quicker route, climbing to the rooftops and circling around so we would meet each other face to face. If I was going to get shot tonight, I wanted to be shot from the front, not skulking in the shadows. According to the custom of my kind, his cat screeched and clambered up his shoulder as I passed them, several stories up. He cocked his gun and pointed it into the darkness warily, scanning through the shadows. I dropped from my perch about twenty feet in front of him.
“Darken.” He said my name as though it was the answer to a weather report.
“Ron,” I greeted with a nod. Mr. Fluffers had returned to normal and was padding up to me even before we had finished the secret handshake. Ron looked at his cat with something akin to amazement as the scruffy thing rubbed against my leg once before circling about and sitting down, glaring at me as though to say, “Well, are you going to offer me a treat, or what?”
Several silent moments issued. Ron lowered his gun from my chest—and away from Mr. Fluffers at my feet.
“Looking for the girl?” I asked hesitantly.
He nodded.
“Yes, you too?”
I nodded.
“Yes . . . no sign of her in this alley.” What kind of a moronic thing was that to say? Next I’d be asking for his number!
His brows furrowed over his goggles.
“No sign of her down here either.” Well, considering Mr. Fluffers had stopped staring at me to disinterestedly begin washing himself, as least Ron had an excuse to be tongue-tied.
“I hope we find her before the cold or something worse happens . . .” he said.
“Yeah . . .” Cold? What about the cold? Oh . . . right, humans and their warmblooded needs . . .
I nodded in agreement. He stared at me as though trying to read my mind.
I put up a Mind Block just in case.
“Well good luck.” He suddenly said, backing up.
“Thanks, you too.”
We slowly backed away from each other. Ron seemed to remember that I was still a threat and hastily trained his gun on me. The moment Mr. Fluffers noticed we were parting ways, he glared at me as if to say, “You really blundered on this one, Cee,” and raced back to Ron’s heels.
I didn’t find the girl. Anyone else have any luck?
The night had been shockingly droll, considering there was an extra dead girl lurking about. So when I scented him, I wasn’t sure how I should react. But I figured his mission was the same as mine tonight. I guessed at his trajectory and took a quicker route, climbing to the rooftops and circling around so we would meet each other face to face. If I was going to get shot tonight, I wanted to be shot from the front, not skulking in the shadows. According to the custom of my kind, his cat screeched and clambered up his shoulder as I passed them, several stories up. He cocked his gun and pointed it into the darkness warily, scanning through the shadows. I dropped from my perch about twenty feet in front of him.
“Darken.” He said my name as though it was the answer to a weather report.
“Ron,” I greeted with a nod. Mr. Fluffers had returned to normal and was padding up to me even before we had finished the secret handshake. Ron looked at his cat with something akin to amazement as the scruffy thing rubbed against my leg once before circling about and sitting down, glaring at me as though to say, “Well, are you going to offer me a treat, or what?”
Several silent moments issued. Ron lowered his gun from my chest—and away from Mr. Fluffers at my feet.
“Looking for the girl?” I asked hesitantly.
He nodded.
“Yes, you too?”
I nodded.
“Yes . . . no sign of her in this alley.” What kind of a moronic thing was that to say? Next I’d be asking for his number!
His brows furrowed over his goggles.
“No sign of her down here either.” Well, considering Mr. Fluffers had stopped staring at me to disinterestedly begin washing himself, as least Ron had an excuse to be tongue-tied.
“I hope we find her before the cold or something worse happens . . .” he said.
“Yeah . . .” Cold? What about the cold? Oh . . . right, humans and their warmblooded needs . . .
I nodded in agreement. He stared at me as though trying to read my mind.
I put up a Mind Block just in case.
“Well good luck.” He suddenly said, backing up.
“Thanks, you too.”
We slowly backed away from each other. Ron seemed to remember that I was still a threat and hastily trained his gun on me. The moment Mr. Fluffers noticed we were parting ways, he glared at me as if to say, “You really blundered on this one, Cee,” and raced back to Ron’s heels.
I didn’t find the girl. Anyone else have any luck?
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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Oh wonderful, so its like this..KT is in the hospital, Shadow & Bert are vacationin' in Russia right now, the noobs pulled out, Shang is gone, and Kolya's guys left a few days ago.
This is just frickin' fantasic. So much for goin' home. Other than Ron and Cee (who by the way sounds like death warmed over), Im the only other one here.
Ok then, maybe we should try to regroup. Duke, go find Celeste. She needs out help right now. I just hope I don't find her and Ron smoochin' in an alley somewhere, I don't have a camera.
This is just frickin' fantasic. So much for goin' home. Other than Ron and Cee (who by the way sounds like death warmed over), Im the only other one here.
Ok then, maybe we should try to regroup. Duke, go find Celeste. She needs out help right now. I just hope I don't find her and Ron smoochin' in an alley somewhere, I don't have a camera.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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Pretending
I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that from you, Ben. Not that it would be out of character, but the idea of Ron and me . . . um . . . I suggest you brace yourself for the moment he reads it.
As for the other commnt, I am death warmed over . . . by a couple of degrees.
As for the other commnt, I am death warmed over . . . by a couple of degrees.
Last edited by Celeste Darken on Tue Feb 27, 2007 5:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
What you two do fals under my foreign policy; " Ya'll can go an' kill yourselves, but do it quietly and don't get me involved. "
Sides, I know ya only got eyes for me.
Now lets go ind this missin' kid.
Sides, I know ya only got eyes for me.
Now lets go ind this missin' kid.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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I am kinda Hazy on if haveing a relation with a Vampire would or would not actually count as Necrophillia, But from some stand points I can see why he is attracted to her even undead she is cute if she were alive I would like have asked her out. I did say If she were alive, just to head off any comments towards me.
To find the darkness you have walk in the shadows.
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Homing In
“The sightings have increased,” Marion said. “That or people are making a joke of it.”
“Any trace of a pattern in these sightings?” I leaned forward to gaze at the computer screen, ignoring his rapid breathing when my hair brushed his shoulder.
“Sort of,” he said after a moment of vainly hoping I would bite him.
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t; basking in my vampiric aura was enough for him.
“Please explain ‘sort of,’” I instructed forcefully, straightening and not resorting to hypnotism.
“Sh . . . she has two patterns,” he said quickly, licking his lips when he turned around from the computer and noticed my glare. “Or at least, that’s what I suspect. It’d be physically impossible for someone . . . anyone to pull off . . . some of them were seen at the same time.”
I paused, slowly digesting this. “What about those using magical transportation and other such instantaneous methods?”
“That would take some seriously complicated magic,” he waved my suggestion off with respect. “Or using spells I’ve never heard of. Though I guess they could use Wink Out and Teleportation, though the PPE usage would be high enough to get the attention of anybody that’s sensitive to such things.”
I shook my head, musing quietly. “That doesn’t sound like Khavik.”
Marion gazed at me longingly. “Celeste, you’re looking pale. I think you’d feel a lot better if you just had a little pick me up. I’ll get a lancet . . .”
I stopped him with a glare. “No. Stick to finding more patterns; I’ll check out the ones you’ve found.”
He nodded glumly. All right. But if you change your mind, just ask . . .”
“Marion. This is not the time.” I rocked on my heels when I came against the ward placed against the hall. But bracing myself against it, I felt it bend like hardened taffy under my strength. I stumbled when I broke through, and the ward bent back into shape. Marion was still eyeing me, impressed.
“You may want to fix it,” I advised. He shook his head.
“Wouldn’t do me any good. I pulled it off perfectly this time. It only blocks lesser servants, pranksters, and a few other nasties. You’re obviously a part of the greater ones, Celeste. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
“Good night,, Marion,” I replied stiffly.
He nodded glumly. “Good night.”
I nodded curtly and returned to the street level to start my search anew.
And it seems I’ve been running into everybody except Hannah . . . running into Ron several times in one night, and again in the second . . . I was beginning to think he was stalking me.
I decided I had better search farther away. I didn’t care that “logically” she couldn’t have gone far. “Logically,” I shouldn’t be moving. So I took to a different hunting route, well away from Ron’s hunting grounds.
And it was a good thing I did.
“Any trace of a pattern in these sightings?” I leaned forward to gaze at the computer screen, ignoring his rapid breathing when my hair brushed his shoulder.
“Sort of,” he said after a moment of vainly hoping I would bite him.
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t; basking in my vampiric aura was enough for him.
“Please explain ‘sort of,’” I instructed forcefully, straightening and not resorting to hypnotism.
“Sh . . . she has two patterns,” he said quickly, licking his lips when he turned around from the computer and noticed my glare. “Or at least, that’s what I suspect. It’d be physically impossible for someone . . . anyone to pull off . . . some of them were seen at the same time.”
I paused, slowly digesting this. “What about those using magical transportation and other such instantaneous methods?”
“That would take some seriously complicated magic,” he waved my suggestion off with respect. “Or using spells I’ve never heard of. Though I guess they could use Wink Out and Teleportation, though the PPE usage would be high enough to get the attention of anybody that’s sensitive to such things.”
I shook my head, musing quietly. “That doesn’t sound like Khavik.”
Marion gazed at me longingly. “Celeste, you’re looking pale. I think you’d feel a lot better if you just had a little pick me up. I’ll get a lancet . . .”
I stopped him with a glare. “No. Stick to finding more patterns; I’ll check out the ones you’ve found.”
He nodded glumly. All right. But if you change your mind, just ask . . .”
“Marion. This is not the time.” I rocked on my heels when I came against the ward placed against the hall. But bracing myself against it, I felt it bend like hardened taffy under my strength. I stumbled when I broke through, and the ward bent back into shape. Marion was still eyeing me, impressed.
“You may want to fix it,” I advised. He shook his head.
“Wouldn’t do me any good. I pulled it off perfectly this time. It only blocks lesser servants, pranksters, and a few other nasties. You’re obviously a part of the greater ones, Celeste. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
“Good night,, Marion,” I replied stiffly.
He nodded glumly. “Good night.”
I nodded curtly and returned to the street level to start my search anew.
And it seems I’ve been running into everybody except Hannah . . . running into Ron several times in one night, and again in the second . . . I was beginning to think he was stalking me.
I decided I had better search farther away. I didn’t care that “logically” she couldn’t have gone far. “Logically,” I shouldn’t be moving. So I took to a different hunting route, well away from Ron’s hunting grounds.
And it was a good thing I did.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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