Author Topic: Sins of the Father  (Read 4056 times)

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Sins of the Father
« on: September 14, 2012, 05:33:13 PM »
Lazarus had become curious about where his fledge went to, when he snuck away from him.  He always chose times that were most convenient to Lazarus, so the blonde had never bothered to question it, thinking Cicero was just getting himself out of the way while he drank, fucked and got rid of whoever it was he'd picked up and brought home.  Even when two someones were brought home for Cicero to share in, Lazarus found Cicero mostly unwilling - except for one particular young man who he'd been interested enough to fuck alongside Lazarus, before declaring he was done and leaving Lazarus to finish playing with him.  Obviously Cicero had a type, and Lazarus had stumbled across it unwittingly.  Either way, he didn't hang around while Lazarus entertained himself.  This time, half an hour after Cicero left and Lazarus had finished quickly with his mortal plaything, the blonde Ancient was more curious about where Cicero had gone to than drinking and fucking whats-his-name again.

It only took a further five minutes for Lazarus to get himself showered and dressed, and he threw out the mortal tidbit, who was protesting that he was still naked.  Lazarus told him he should be thankful he was still alive and not getting tossed into the garden with the other corpses.  This was a lie, but it was enough to get the toy hastily leaving and dressing as he went.  Lazarus didn't know if Cicero could drive, but he could.  Kind of.  He figured it out, but had to walk the last few blocks to the Detour Hotel, where his blood bond with Cicero sang to him, after the car he'd used ploughed into a tree that had been stupidly planted in someone's front yard.

While Lazarus had been on his adventure, Cicero had been spending his time with Tucker, and not really thinking about how close his sire's blood signature was getting.  He released his frustrations on the youth and drank from him, because it had been awhile since he'd taken from him.  He felt refreshed and replenished, and used Tucker's shower to get the scent of sex off himself, for he'd intended on visiting with Ami.  He went to her next, where they spoke of music and art, or didn't speak at all and just spent time in each other's company, or he provoked her until she finally said something caustic at him and made him laugh.

By the time he left her, Lazarus was in sight of the complex and saw what door Cicero had left.  He watched as Cicero moved into the courtyard, and flew upward.  Lazarus hadn't yet seen this trick, and even he had to admit that this kind of talent would be handy.  Still, there were cars available for the stealing, and he thought he'd be a bit better at it.  Running was fun enough when it could be done at real speed, anyway.  He hadn't done it this time because he'd thought he'd need the energy to battle with Cicero, if his fledge had been sour at being followed.

Lazarus went to the door Cicero had come out of, and held his head close to it.  He could hear movement inside, so whoever Cicero had visited with was still awake and moving around in there.  He sniffed the air but couldn't smell sex, but he could smell Cicero's scent, and the soap he'd used while at Tucker's room.  Figuring Cicero had fucked whoever was in here and was keeping his party favour all to himself, Lazarus was bitter enough to want to have a go.  He'd offered to share all his toys with Cicero, after all.

Raising his fist, Lazarus knocked on the door three solid times.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #1 on: September 14, 2012, 05:50:41 PM »
Mostly, they had hung out. They'd talked a bit about her upcoming show in the park – to celebrate the solstice – but then they'd lapsed into a comfortable silence as Ami puttered about the apartment, doing her stupid Human things, while Cicero had watched her. Then they'd watched an episode of Iron Chef. Not because Ami had any real interest in the show – or for any reason, really – but because it was on and they didn't have anything better to do. She'd even sat next to him on the bed of her own volition. She was getting used to the idea of Cicero being around, even sort of liked it. He didn't need to talk about nothing like everybody else seemed to, and that was nice. And he hadn't made a pass at her, tonight. She would've rebuffed him if he had, but she was glad she didn't have to.

But as soon as he was gone, there was a knock on her door. She hadn't even had time to light her cigarette. Plus, who the fuck did she know that knocked?

No one, was who. If it was those goddamn Vampire mormons again, they were gonna have problems.

Cigarette dangling from her lips, and a disgruntled expression on her face, Ami pulled open the door after clicking a series of locks open.  She looked her visitor and and down quickly. Vampire? Definitely. Mormon? Definitely not. He had the same porcelain-perfect skin that Cicero did, and there was no goddamn reason for another ancient vampire to be showing up on her doorstep. Her nerves were immediately set ajangle.

She said nothing, hovering in the doorway as she waited for an explanation, muscles tense with surprise – and a bright spark of fear.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #2 on: September 14, 2012, 06:00:37 PM »
Hearing the locks open one after another before the door opened, Lazarus had to smirk at her.  What was the point of having all those fucking locks if you were just going to open them?  Plus, there was that thing with the windows next to the door, that didn't have bars on them.  Yeh.

He was very surprised with what he saw once the door swung open.  He screwed his face up in disgust, then tried to look past her, to see if maybe there was a guy in the room as well.  Nope.  Just her.

"A woman?" he sneered, looking at Ami again, with her unlit cigarette that he plucked out of her mouth before she had time to react (though her hand did come up quicker than most and she jerked away fairly quickly, but still too late).  He would've put it into his own mouth except he was severely pissed off, so he threw it to one side instead.  "He fucking leaves me for a woman?" he asked her, and started walking inside of her apartment, whether she wanted him to come in or not.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #3 on: September 14, 2012, 06:11:47 PM »
There was no time to mourn her cigarette before he came barging into the room. She moved aside because she had no choice other than to meet him chest-to chest. She turned as he moved past her, putting her back to the open doorway as opposed to the opposite wall. Judging by the way he looked at her with abject disgust, this was not a friendly visit.

"We're not a thing," she told the new vampire in her normal placid tone even as her mind raced. She didn't need to ask who he was, because there was really only one person it could be, and she sure as shit didn't need to know why it mattered that she was female. Priority one was getting this asshole out of here with none of her limbs or important parts in hand. Or, more (and simultaneously less) likely, getting her own self out of there before the new guy could get at her.

Belatedly, she directed her thoughts elsewhere – expecting him to be able to read her mind as easily as Cicero could.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #4 on: September 14, 2012, 07:19:43 PM »
"Not a thing?!" he yelled back at her, slamming the door shut and then glaring at her, his hands on his hips, his feet slightly apart, his upper body pivoted forward slightly so he could scowl at her.  "You're not a thing.  Well, bitch, I beg to differ.  He's been keeping you a secret from me, and that makes you a fucking thing."

He took a moment to pace back and forth in front of her.

"I am his sire.  He has disrespected me, sneaking behind my back and cavorting with you.  I have to teach him a lesson, but that's probably what he expects.  It's probably the reason he kept you a fucking secret in the first place!" he declared, an index finger rising in the air as he made this connection, and he whirled around to point it accusingly at her.  "But!  He has to know he can't keep secrets from me, he has to know, that even if he can best me in some areas, he'll never have my ruthlessness.  He might've expected me to harm you, and by doing exactly that, I'm just proving he was right to try, but maybe next time he won't fucking try, because he knows this'll happen regardless."

He advanced on her then, looking like he meant to be her reaper.  "You'll be one of the few women who'll have experienced this from me, bitch," he said, his voice low but clear.  "You'll die smiling."


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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #5 on: September 15, 2012, 12:38:56 AM »
Of course Cicero would have a jealous lover – oh, excuse her, sire. Of course he was violent. And of fucking course it would fall on her to bear the brunt of his hate.

Still turning on the ball of her foot, she put her back once more to the room as he shut the door. Briefly, she thought about throwing Tucker under the bus – hadn't Cicero secreted him away her to keep him away from others? – but the fact that she was was a woman seemed to stoke the vampire's ire as much as his fledgling's secrecy.

So she stopped thinking. Ami fully intended on surviving this, and instinct would serve her much better to that end. For every step forward he took she took two quick ones back – putting as much distance between them as possible. As he spoke, she put a hand out – finding the dresser. Which meant the bed was directly to her left.

As he finished threatening her with his words, the same hand found the edges of a heavy glass ashtray – and in the same moment she was hurling it at the vampire's head with a cornered animal's fury and a softball player's arm. Two quick steps sent her diving across the bed for the machete on the bedside table.

She was fast for a Human, with a certain graceful economy of movement – but desperately slow for a vampire.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #6 on: September 15, 2012, 08:42:36 AM »
Lazarus hadn't expected her to fight back.  He'd expected her to squeal and cower, because that's what women did.  The ashtray hit him squarely on the head, causing him to snarl and pause while she dove past him.  Furious but not beyond words: "You'll pay for that, cunt!" he grabbed her ankles just as her fingertips brushed the handle of the machete, and pulled her back towards him on the bed.  He didn't bother to flip her over, the idea of pressing himself against her womanly body wasn't on the top of the list of things to do with her, but right now he wouldn't have cared even if she'd started humping his leg.  He just wanted to end this bitch.

Climbing atop her, he grabbed her hands and pulled them to her back and up between her shoulderblades until he felt their movement restricted.  He could've kept going, and pulled her fucking arms off, but she might've died of shock and he wanted her to die at his hand a particular way.

"Hope you taste better than you look," he said, his right hand spanning across both of her wrists so he could hold her with one hand and push her head down onto the mattress with the other.  It wasn't so she wouldn't wriggle around while he was biting and cause him to accidently tear her throat open - he wouldn't have cared too much if that had happened - but it was more so she couldn't get into a position where she might be able to bite back, feral bitch.

She didn't have much opportunity to fight, held down as she was.  Kicking her legs out wouldn't achieve much, her hands were held tightly in the middle of her back (and her shoulders were likely screaming in pain at the way he was holding her), and his icy fingers on her head and twisted in her hair achieved their purpose well.  Lazarus knew how to hold people down, and she should take no comfort in this fact.

He found her neck without much hesitation, not bothering to explain how he'd found her, or what he intended on doing with her any further.  He was at her throat and drinking heavily, intending on wasting no time.  His attention was diverted, his focus completely on her, so when the door opened and Cicero entered, Lazarus barely had time to react.

"GET OFF HER!" Cicero's order came, and Ami felt Lazarus flinch above her at the words.  He was shoved off her at a point that she likely would've recovered, except Lazarus clamped his fangs in deeply and twisted his head as he went, effectively ripping the entire right side of her neck open.  Blood gushed out of her as Lazarus fell to the floor and Cicero went to her in order to take her away from her sire.  What he saw made him falter in his step, and she heard him in her mind.

Oh no, no
Ami, I'm sorry
so sorry


He stopped when he reached the foot of the bed and looked down at her with indecision.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #7 on: September 15, 2012, 10:13:42 AM »
The balde of her machete sang as her fingers

knocked it off the goddamn table, fingers closed ice-cold around her ankles like manacles. Her legs were strong as she kicked them back at her attacker, heels aimed for his solar plexus, with a snarl. None of it mattered, because he was on top of her heavy and cold and smelling of jasmine shampoo. Fingers like the claws of a machine in her hair, pain screaming in her shoulders and her screaming  rage into the mattress, feet kicking, hips twisting under him, anything because this was NOT how she was meant to die –

And then all was blood, red and thick and hot in her ears, pumping against the vampire's lapping tongue. Her wrists wrenched at his grasp, but that only made her shoulders protest further, her bad one feeling as though it might dislocate if he pushed it further. And there was the bite itself. This wasn't the seductive taking of of a willing victim; Chance had told her they could make it hurt, and this hurt. Worse than anything, perhaps, than the gunshots that had nearly ended her life in her childhood. She pushed through it, fighting the vampire as much as she could even as her body bled its strength down his throat and her limbs grew sluggish.

When she heard Cicero's voice – recognizing it though she'd only heard it once before – through the pounding in her ears her brain exploded with hope, all pink and yellow and bubbling and drowned again in red. The vampire was gone, but so were some very important parts of her.

Put pressure on the wound said the EMTs outside that basement concert in Minneapolis, and she clamped a hand over the gaping hole in her neck with as much strength as she could. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly.  Grunting, she used her other hand to roll herself onto her back, looking up at Cicero as he spoke into her mind. Her eyes were hard with anger and running with tears. This was not how she was meant to die.

"Help," she said, or tried to say. There was a lot of red bubbling up inside, spilling from the corners of her mouth. But she understood what was happening to her, and he had to understand, too. She needed help. She was going to die if he didn't get her to a hospital, if he didn't get rid of these goddamn black spots crowding at the edges of her vision.

She would do it herself, but her hands didn't seem to be working any more.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #8 on: September 15, 2012, 11:12:11 AM »
Cicero hadn't ever fledged anyone before, but he knew the process.  Still, it was a giant leap, to fledge a human into a vampire, and certainly not when planned.  He'd found mortals he'd cared for in the past, those he'd spent time with and respected - like Ami - and they'd even died.  Some had fallen sick, some had suffered mortal wounds, and some had simply aged and died in that fashion.  He'd never even considered changing them in order to have them survive.  It wasn't a responsibility he wanted.  He'd walked away each time, and would've walked away this time too, except-

Except Lazarus started laughing.  His laugh was derisive and judgmental, scoffing and winning at the same time.  He'd taken away Cicero's prize, and Cicero couldn't have hated his sire more in that moment as he turned to look at the blonde sitting on the floor and chortling at him.  He looked back at Ami, seeing her lifeblood gushing out of her body at an alarming rate.  She would be dead in a couple of minutes at most.  Probably in one.  He'd taken no blood from her, Lazarus had it all, but he wouldn't give it back.

Cicero crawled onto the bed, getting blood on the knees of his jeans and then on his shirt as he leaned over her and removed her hand from her neck - though gently.  It hadn't changed much, her hand was bloody and her wound had seeped her mortality through her fingers.  Cicero lowered his mouth to her wound, to see if he could clean it, to sense how much time she had left.  With a single taste as blood poured past his lips he knew there was no saving her.  Unless he gave to her.

Ripping his wrist open, he pressed it quickly against her mouth.  There would be no point trying to close the wound, it was too savage, too much skin to knit for a dying woman.

Drink, he commanded her, and you will heal.  She would need to drink much, and he had no idea if the pure essence of his blood - not mixed with her own - would sire her or poison her.

"No!" Lazarus shouted, climbing to his feet.  "Don't waste your first fucking siring on a woman!"

"Get out of here," Cicero spoke back, thrusting his broken wrist against her lips again, wanting her to start drinking before it healed.  Drink, he commanded again.  "We're done."

"You'll be too weak if you sire her like that," Lazarus complained.  "I would be able to finish you both."

Cicero didn't reply.  He didn't look at Lazarus either, only at Ami.  Lazarus made a noise of disgust and stalked out of the room.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #9 on: September 15, 2012, 11:25:51 AM »
All of her concentration was focussed on staying awake, keeping those black dots from crowding in too close because if she did that, she was dead. Dead, dead, dead. It would be so nice just to go to sleep, though. Let this all be a nightmare. She heard Lazarus laughing, though she didn't know his name, and she heard more of Cicero's voice, outside her head. Maybe that had spilled out too, with the rest of her.

The feeling of Cicero's mouth on her wound jerked her back to wakefulness. It didn't hurt – the shock was taking care of all of her pain, but not that wrist he was shoving against her mouth. Why was he doing that? Didn't he know there was already too much blood in her mouth to swallow? She raised one hand to push it away, but the most she could gather was a light touch.

The touch became a weak grip with the second nudge, as she understood what he was asking of her, and complied. There were no Gods in her head now, only adrenaline, and the thought of survival. Keeping her eyes on Cicero's, she fastened her red lips to the wound, and drank deep.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #10 on: September 15, 2012, 11:36:30 AM »
Cicero let her have more than half of what was inside of him, seeing the blood seeping out of her finally stop.  It had badly stained the sheets and mattress.  He started eyeing off that blood and bent down to lick it up, his wrist still at her lips and because she was drinking from it, it didn't heal.  He took what he could from what had puddled near her throat, and instinctively bit her freshly healed neck.  He stopped himself from drinking and withdrew carefully, getting barely a taste.  It hadn't been of her anyway, it had only been suggestive of her - the blood was his own.  He could taste the vampiric quality of it, and knew she hadn't yet been sired - this was merely the first step.  At least he'd drunk from Tucker earlier that night, but it still hadn't been enough to replace what he'd lost.

He pulled away from her, and stumbled backwards, losing his balance and falling onto the carpet.  Everything in the room seemed muted, as though he'd somehow inherited her mortal eyes.  Lazarus had been right - if he'd stayed back to finish her off, Cicero wouldn't have been able to stop him.  He held no fear from his sire for himself, because he knew Lazarus loved him, but he was both angry and grateful to the blonde Ancient for not finishing off Ami once Cicero had decided to interfere.

The need for blood was pulsing in his head, but there was no way he was leaving her now, not when she was about to start changing.


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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #11 on: September 15, 2012, 12:39:59 PM »
A low growl escaped her as he pulled away, but she let him go, too weak and red-brained to stop him. She curled into herself on the bed, no longer afraid of sleep. But sleep didn't come, despite the steady metronome drumbeat in her ears fading slowly into some middle distance. A sudden and profound pain bloomed in her chest and her muscles tightened, teeth grit as if to protect herself from it. When it passed, the metronome had stopped.

Ami realized that she had just felt herself die.

Some magic was keeping the new blood moving through the maze of her veins though, sluggish and unnatural. More than anything, though, it was cold. Chilled and dead like Lazarus's hands, like the hard press of Archer's skin against her. Like the stare Cicero had aimed at his sire when he'd found him here.

When the cold reached her lungs, she began to cough – great, barking coughs that ripped through her whole body, forcing her to uncoil. Knowing instinctively what was coming, she pushed herself to the opposite edge of the bed to allow her body to evacuate everything her fourteen years of heavy cigarette use had poisoned it with onto the carpet. When it was over, she curled back into her tight little ball with a moan.

Cicero's blood continued to freeze its way through her as she shuddered. Ami felt it pushing between the fibers of her muscles – those twitched and bunched in protest, not painful, but strange – and coating the insides of her eyes with its chill. Soon, there was no part of her that was warm.

The smell of blood filled the room, as sweet and silver as everything she'd ever dreamed of. She felt sick, but more than that, she felt hungry. That dominated all.

This was what she was now, this hunger.

She let out the last breath she'd taken, and din't inhale. Didn't feel the drowning sting telling her to as the seconds ticked past. Turned to minutes. But her brain was busy boxing away all the things screaming colors at her, too sharp. Now was not the time for thinking. Finally, she opened her eyes – finding the word a new place, more dazzling and horrible than the one she'd left.

It hadn't been a short process, her changing, and if he wasn't where he had been, she would sit up and look for him – though, oddly, she found that she no longer needed her eyes to know where he was.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #12 on: September 16, 2012, 01:13:35 PM »
Even during his almost primal desire for blood, turning him into a thirsting beast, he knew not to return to Tucker.  In this state, he was liable to tear the youth to shreds, or at the very least, take too much and end up killing him.  He'd lost enough people tonight.  Next door he could hear two heartbeats.  It was perfect - one for him and one for Ami.  They would feed on them, then when they were a little more sensible, they would think about their next move.

He moved onto his feet, and prowled closer to her, to see what effects her vampirism had on her.  There would be no more tattoos for her without binding magic, no more changings of her piercings without having to be re-pierced, or healing over the piercing entirely, no more food and drink - except for blood, which she would find was quite a delightful mix of flavours now, providing her donor was a healthy sort - and no more smoking.

She was his fledgling now.  His child of blood.  She was his responsibility, and he could already feel a strong connection between himself and her.  Of course he could, for it was just his blood moving in her body, not hers mixed with his.  He had to get more in her.  He had less, but she was new, and no doubt she was starving.  He didn't think he could use any mental talents, because his focus was too scattered.  It was like his consciousness had crawled into a little bubble in his mind and was randomly hitting controls trying to move him around.  So far he was getting some of the signals, but he couldn't stop sniffing at the air and listening for heartbeats.

He was a predator, and there were things to be hunted nearby.

"Come with me," he growled, and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her off the bed and attempting to leave the apartment with her.  The red song was singing loudly in his ears.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #13 on: September 16, 2012, 02:58:37 PM »
There was that voice again, richer and more nuanced in its cadence than any sound Ami had ever heard before.  She could feel his own impatience humming through her, making it both of theirs. But she could hear a lot of sounds now – not least among them her neighbors' heartbeats. Those were too loud not to hear. The hunger shot a sharp reminder through her gut. Cicero's grip was insistent, and she had to scramble a bit to keep up, but once she gained her feet she followed readily.

If he hadn't pulled her that way once they were out the door, she would have suggested the neighbors – a pair of low-caliber grifters who preyed mainly on the elderly. There was no love lost between her and them. Plus, she knew they were cocky enough not to have armed themselves. But their thoughts were one in this instance, so she said nothing.

When they reached the door to the neighboring apartment, it was all she could do not to throw herself against it. Those heartbeats were like a siren's call. They were so close she could smell them, all warm and pink like the meat of a boiled crustacean. Her teeth ground together between her tight lips.

"I'll get us in." Without waiting for a confirmation, she raised one hand to knock on the door.

It was answered by an eye in the crack of the door, pulled open only as far as the chain-lock would let it. Even in the dark, she could see the man's pupil dilate as he took in what he could see of them in all their blood-covered glory. "Need to use your shower," Ami informed him, "Hurt dog in ours. Resting. Vet said –"

"Bullshit," he spat back at her.

"Three bills in it for you now. Another five you keep your fuckin' traps closed." God, he was so close, if she wanted to she could just reach out and –

"A grand. Half now."

"Done."

And with that, the door was open, and they were in.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #14 on: September 16, 2012, 04:56:38 PM »
Cicero was fast, but he wasn't using his celerity.  He'd stepped forward and grabbed the first one by the throat, tossing him aside like a ragdoll, careful not to throw too hard in order to daze him for Ami but not to break his neck.  He might get unlucky, but he didn't think so, judging by the groan that sounded after the crash.  He was after the second one, further in the room, who was staring at the doorway in a kind of suspended daze.  Cicero was already reaching for him by the time the guy thought to go for his weaponry.  By the time he was in that iron hold it was too late.

The sire turned so he could watch what his fledgling was doing as he bit into his victim's neck, pulling the blood out hungrily and quickly, connecting with his donor enough to now realise he was just criminal scum.  Bodies wouldn't matter to him in this instance, but he was curious as to how Ami would do.  She might be operating on unthinking thirst, considering how new she was.  His baby vamp.

A surge of affection went out to her.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #15 on: September 17, 2012, 03:04:28 AM »
Doubting she could fight the human without raising too much ruckus, Ami was relieved  when Cicero stunned him for her.  She advanced quickly, dropping to her knees once she reached the crumpled figure and pulling him into her lap with more ease than should've been possible given his superior bulk. Need gnawed at her, hard-edged and metallic as her finger curled nto his hair and pulled his head to the side none too gently.

The tugging elicited another groan from her victim, piercing the red haze that clouded her vision, and she froze. This was a human being. A living, breathing thing. Just like she'd been an hour ago. Was she really ready to –

No no no she shut down that train of thought before it could get any closer to the dark precipice it hurtled towards. She wasn't going to kill this motherfucker, but she needed what he had before he could think. The surge of warmth filling her chest helped, and she looked up at her sire, appreciative.

Watching Cicero was enough to shred the last of her inhibitions and she bent her head to her victim's throat.

"Don't let me kill him," she said, then softened it, "Please." Because she didn't think she could stop herself if she tried. Her ironclad self-control was already being pushed to its limit, and she gave in, sinking her sharp new teeth into the artery pulsing just below her lips. The man below her cried out, but the sound was overlaid by her own moan of appreciation as blood spilled into her waiting mouth.

Like most criminals, these men were far from clean-living. There was nothing currently in their systems that would affect the vampires, but they were drinkers. Ami didn't know the difference, and the blood tasted like pure light to her – suffusing her with the heat of the man's life. She was sloppy at first, letting precious liquid leak through the cornes of her mouth before she adjusted to make a good seal. Her fingers curled and kneaded at her victim's shoulders, clutching him closer as he swooned with the ecstasy of the bite.

His breathing slowed as he slipped into unconsciousness, but she took no notice, or was too lost in the hypnotic beat of his heart to care. If Cicero didn't stop her as she'd asked, she would need a miracle to keep her from committing murder.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #16 on: September 17, 2012, 12:55:07 PM »
Cicero heard her plea but ignored it.  She would learn a hard lesson, and fast.  He wasn't generous or merciful to those who he deemed unworthy of their pathetic little lives.  There were many mortals who wasted what they had that he wouldn't kill, but these particular mortals were scum and all they were contributing to was a failing world.  Their deaths wouldn't worry anyone important.  He could taste the unhealthy quality to his victim's blood but it was good enough to refresh him back to his usual, much more cerebral self.

When Ami's victim slipped into unconsciousness, the only person he took pity on was her.  He'd rethought himself when his own donor slipped lifeless out of his hold.  There was a gun and a blade nearby, and it was the quieter weapon Cicero picked up.

Move aside, he ordered Ami, but of course she didn't, because she was feeding.  He ripped her off the dying man (who would've died even if Cicero had done nothing, he could tell) and plunge the knife into his chest to the hilt, killing him instantly by piercing his heart.  This way Ami wouldn't have to feel guilty.

Take whatever you can't bear to live without.  We won't be returning, he instructed her.  He would be returning, for Tucker, but right now his mortal toy was safe enough where he was, unknowing of the drama that had happened on the floor below.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #17 on: September 17, 2012, 01:13:54 PM »
The rumbling purr emanating from her throat turned into a bark and a growl as she was torn from her prey – whom she had no idea was dying. She was sent sprawling by her sire, and could only make a strangled sound as he plunged the knife into her victim's chest. She had never seen someone die before. For a moment, she was stunned by the simple brutality of it. He was there, and then he wasn't and she felt absolutely nothing. People died every goddamn day. Maybe there was just too much to feel, right now, for her to spare anything on this fuck.

"Why–" she asked, then grimaced. No. "God dammit." This was going to make her friends start asking questions they didn't need to be asking yet.

Her friends. Would Fuckmouth Sire come back for them? It wasn't exactly like they were anonymous in this town. The thought made her go cold, despite all the heat spreading comfortably through her.

"Hafta warn my friends," she told him as she rose to her feet. She understood that they couldn't stay here, but she needed him to know that she would be coming back. Probably frequently. They were her family. He couldn't expect her to leave that behind.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #18 on: September 17, 2012, 01:36:14 PM »
Cicero looked at her blankly for a moment before he understood what she meant.  He even saw who she meant, thanks to her vivid thoughts, with Lazarus superimposed over the top, like some evil caricature in a comic book.  It was alarming and hilarious at the same time.

With a slight lift on one corner of his mouth that was his trying not to smile (becuase there was nothing here that particularly amused him), he answered for her.

I'll handle Lazarus.  We need more for now.

She was fledgling, and he still remembered those baby bird days, of drinking and hunting and drinking and hunting.  They'd been too traumatic for him to forget, especially under Lazarus' instruction.  He'd learned to detach himself very quickly from humankind.  Still, it was only the most intellectual memory, because the emotions that had gone with it were long gone.  Now that he had blood in him, he felt like he could control himself and his powers.

You're not human anymore, remember that.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #19 on: September 17, 2012, 02:02:58 PM »
Yeah, and whose fault was that? Her lips pressed into a line. Her hands balled into fists. Fuck that. "Doesn't mean I can't have a life," she shot back automatically, tone heated. Not the life she'd had, but some semblance of it.

But the name he'd said gave her pause when it caught up her. "Lazarus," she repeated. Of course. Chance had told her they could make it hurt. She almost laughed. But if she laughed, she would end up crying in a heap on the floor and she just couldn't deal with that. She believed Cicero when he said he'd take care of it, though, and that would have to be enough for now.

She stared at him for a long moment – his face and hands all covered in blood (her blood). She couldn't imagine she looked any different. It was true, what he'd said. The hunger still gnawed at her.

"I'm gonna go pack." Her tone – as well as the irritation humming along their now-shared bloodline and the intentions foremost in her mind – told him that this conversation was not over. She would be back here.

Unless he stopped her, she moved past him out the door and back into her own apartment.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #20 on: September 17, 2012, 07:54:23 PM »
Cicero let her move past him and return to her own apartment.  He looked at the bodies and didn't worry about arranging them differently, though he did pilfer through the room and picked up a backpack full of money.  He didn't need such things, and Ami wouldn't either - not if she was with him - but it didn't hurt to grab such things, or else the deaths in this room would be a great deal more suspicious.  Plus, there were uses for it.  Money wasn't exactly inconvenient.

He joined Ami when she'd only started packing, and watched what she was taking.  Whenever she grabbed something he thought was unnecessary, he challenged its inclusion.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #21 on: September 17, 2012, 08:10:18 PM »
She packed a duffel bag full of clothes, and fished a wad of cash in a plastic baggie out of the toilet tank. Ditching the baggie, the cash went into her back pocket – though her pants were now stiff with dried blood. Her phone and wallet and keys were already in other pockets, but her phone charger got unplugged from the wall and stuffed into the duffel.

It wasn't until she got to her instruments that she hesitated. She could only carry one with her without difficulty. Pushing down the emotions that surfaced as she passed over the others, she slung the banjo across her back. Her beaten copper stag mask was  tied to her belt loops with its ribbons.

The last piece was the machete, shoved unceremoniously into the duffel bag – or it would've been, had Cicero not challenged it. She hesitated, looking at it. Yeah, that whole '+3 against undead' thing seemed a whole lot less funny, now. Ironic, maybe, but not worth it. She dropped it back on the bed; she could pick up another one later.

She hadn't looked at him when he walked in the door, but she turned to him now. The backpack was new. What could those assholes possibly have that he would want? Her eyes went from the backpack to him face, questioning.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #22 on: September 17, 2012, 08:42:16 PM »
He watched her pack everything else without question, though they couldn't walk around with a machete and not attract some attention.  He didn't want attention right now.  He'd been curious watching her put the money in her pants without first changing those pants.

Get rid of the blood, he instructed, and thought he'd best do so too.  Are there clothes here I can wear?

If not, he would be returning to the locked room next door (and a bit of mental ability could unlatch it easily) and getting some clothes.  If so, he would drop the backpack to his feet (which he didn't explain even though he could feel she wanted to know) and start undressing out of his shirt and jeans.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #23 on: September 18, 2012, 08:02:11 AM »
Get rid of what blood? Ami blinked at him.

Oh right. The blood they were covered in. She shook her head hard, as if to clear it of cobwebs.  Yeah, getting rid of that would probably help. She was getting stupid; not thinking right. In answer to his question, she shook her head. She had a couple of Chance's shirts here, but nothing else.

Once he'd left, she went about following his advice – stripping out of her sticky clothes and replacing them with fresh ones – a black concert T-shirt with the collar ripped out and cut into a V neck, and a yet another pair of black jeans. As an afterthought, she grabbed her bullet-casing belt and slung that one too. With hands that were still covered in blood.

God, there had been so much of it.

She shook her head again, and headed into the bathroom to scrub her hands, and up her arms. As she was washing, she glanced up into the mirror, and paused. The face staring back was hers, but not. The skin was porcelain-smooth under the red splashed over the cheek, disappearing under the ripped shirtcollar – and the eyes were the same blue, but now as hard-edged and luminous as crystal.

She only paused for a moment, but it was thus that Cicero would find her upon his return.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #24 on: September 18, 2012, 10:17:24 AM »
You'll have time to admire yourself later, he pressed into her mind with some amusement.  He wondered if she would be irked that he could see the funny at a time like this.  He was still reeling from what they'd done as well.  After almost two milennia, he'd finally made his own baby vamp, and an unlikely choice at that.  He thought it was Lazarus' doing - though he couldn't blame his sire for Cicero's choice, he sure as hell could blame him for trying to kill Ami and forcing the decision on Cicero in the first place.  Under Lazarus' influence, he'd been more impulsive anyway.  The blonde Ancient brought out a different side to Cicero - one that he'd thought couldn't be so easily accessed.

Lazarus always managed to surprise him, even though he didn't.  His sire was an enigma.

Cicero was wearing a black polo that was stretched too tight against his shoulders, and not tightly enough at his waist.  The ill-fitting clothing didn't do him any favours, but even less desirable was the knitted navy cap atop his head - making him look like a fisherman from up north about to go out to sea and catch a trawler full of cray.  Dark blue heavily stonewashed jeans clad his legs - a little big for him around the waist and hips, but held up by his own belt - which had a few splashes of blood on it which had been absently wiped off.  Ami would be able to see the red among the cracks in the leather strap.  The shoes were his as well, also wiped clean but not perfectly so.  Obviously enough to pass a mortal inspection.

He was carrying a plastic bag now, filled with his own clothes, and as she watched, he shoved it into the backpack he'd picked up again from beside the door, on top of the money.

Give me something else to carry, he asked of her, and instinctively looked at her instruments, remembering how she'd loitered there while deciding.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #25 on: September 18, 2012, 12:17:02 PM »
Her eyes slide sideways, seeing her sire in her peripheral vision, and she snorted. Amusement sparked. He was right; they needed to keep taking steps forward. She could do a lot of things later.

Hastily, she finished scrubbing the blood off her face and chest (her hair was hopeless; she could see the blood matting it, but hopefully to Human eyes it just looked dirty) and turned to face Cicero. She wasn't much of a fashion plate, herself – and this was probably the absolute last thing she should be worried about – but damn was that a bad outfit. She caught a glimpse of the stacked cash in the backpack as he opened it to stuff the extra clothes in. At least they wouldn't have to worry about money for awhile. Still, she took her own wad out of her discarded pants pocket (as well as wallet, phone and keys). Unaware as she was of Cicero's usual means of acquiring things, she figured they couldn't have too much.

"Electric bass." she spoke without hesitation, upon seeing where his eyes went, "Far left.".

Then, after a pause: "Thank you." She wasn't just talking about the guitar – that much was obvious from her tone, and from the gratitude painting her thoughts. If she'd known how to use the connection of their bloodline, she would have. But words for now would have to be enough.

She grabbed her leather jacket from a chair and shrugged it on. After slinging the banjo once again across her back (the bass she'd indicated had a strap for Cicero to do the same – or he could use the case propped up against the wall beside it) and picking up her duffel bag, she was ready to leave.

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Re: Sins of the Father
« Reply #26 on: September 19, 2012, 11:47:21 PM »
Cicero took the instrument she named and used the strap in the same fashion as she had.  The case, though just as practical, would've just been more to carry and he intended to make their search for a new home a little less painless.  He would be supplying her with drinks throughout the rest of the night as well, to try and fill her up as much as possible before the next night, because she would wake up hungry.  He had a little bit of experience rearing fledges, though not his own.  Two of Lazarus' fledges had begged his help and he'd provided it for them, because he'd been obliged due to his relationship with them on a secondary level.  As far as he knew, one of those two was still carving out an existence somewhere in the world.  He hadn't felt any of his blood bond die for a while.

He knew what her thanks meant.  There would be no secrets she would be able to keep from him, whether she wanted to or not.  Everything came thrumming up their very close bloodline - emotions, thoughts, impressions, visions, ideas.  He was aware of the separation of their thought patterns, but it was a very unusual experience for him also - seeing her vividness in his mind without even trying.  Usually he'd have to reach out to her - now he was simply receiving as she transmitted it all.  He doubted any other vampire would be able to tap into her thoughts so easily - she was no longer human, after all, and of his blood.

He felt that same strum of affection vibrate down his bond to her.  Baby vamp.  He'd made his own baby vamp.  He'd vowed not to, but he hadn't known how much he would like it.

Let's fly, he invited, then grinned at her.