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paixaorpg2006-05-03 02:39 am
sadistic-ink.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-05-03 02:39 am
Use Your Illusion [COMPLETED]
Character(s): Zorin (and anyone else who wants to jump in)
Content: Everyone's favorite crazy lil' German has a bit of a meal and then a walkabout.
Setting: N4-ish. Nowhere special really.
Time: Sunday morning.
Warnings: Blood drinking.
Well, so far, so good. The frantic exhaustion that had overtaken her during her first night in Paixao had almost caused her to miss a very important event - sunrise. Very carefully, like a soldier poised at a door waiting for the enemy to pass by, Zorin placed herself. Keeping her back to the wall and the broken door she'd come in, the German craned her neck as far as it would go on her knotted shoulders, her eyes roaming what little sliver she could see of the sky. Light crept into the world, Zorin unable to keep from hissing at the sight. Almost holding her breath as she waited and watched, Zorin kept both eyes trained on the painted dome.
And nothing happened.
Raising her brow a fraction, Zorin chewed the inside of her cheek briefly. "Zur Hölle damit!!" Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or so the saying went. With an audible growl and a deep inhalation of breath, Zorin thrust her right hand into the open air. Once again, nothing happened. Not even the slightest twinge. Wie bitte? Following the hand with an arm, then a shoulder, followed by a very reluctant head, the false Vampire found herself staring at something she hadn't seen since the Reich. Sunrise.
The Letztes Battallion were all manufactured Vampires, created by a perverted science instead of the conventional way, but they still suffered the consequences of Vampirisim. (The actual ones, and not that nonsense about crosses and garlic, anyway.) Full sunlight still burnt, but for some reason, it didn't here. It would have made for quite a poetic sight, a Vampire seeing her first sunrise in 70 years - if said Vampire weren't downright hideous to behold. Coughing a laugh, she swung the scythe onto her shoulder, hooking her elbow around it to keep the whole ordeal balanced. With her free hand she fished out her pack of Privats and lit one. Now that the sun was up fully, however, Zorin was in for quite a shock. It hurt her eyes, especially the left one. Okay, so maybe things weren't going to be so easy after all. She'd have to invest in sunglasses, or a hat ... or ...heh... a parasol. Rip would never let her forget it, the freckled bitch. Maybe she'd just have to remind herself not to look straight ahead all the time. Bah. Scrubbing at her watering eyes, Zorin ducked back into the cool shelter of the basement. Her stomach was grumbling, and a quiet listen with her sensitive hearing told her that the occupants of her little hideaway were still in bed.
...
Time for a spot of breakfast.
Creeping up the stairs into the living space, Zorin followed the sound of a particularly-juicy beating heart, sliding like a ghost into the bed of the young woman that contained it. Zorin's illusory eye took on a dramatic slant, filling with blackness like a yawning void as a quiet drone filled the room. Soon the plain white sheets of the bed were covered in a multitude of writhing symbols as she practiced her art. May as well make the poor woman's last living hour in this city a pleasurable one. Now wrapped in a cocoon of illicit illusions, the woman arched into the cold white body of the Vampire who wrapped her in a hard embrace. Once again, it would have been a tragically gothic scene, a Vampire bestowing a death-filled kiss - but Zorin wasn't exactly that pale and beauteous Vampire. And the meal wasn't exactly a neat and tidy one.
Creeping out of the room as quietly as she had entered, Zorin left the woman stone dead, throat torn out by rows of wickedly-sharp teeth. Now that the twisting black letters of the illusion were gone, the amount of blood splashed on the sheets was quite liberal, ragged shreds of what had been the insides of the throat scattered about. Licking her chops like a sated wolf, Zorin hopped from the window, landing easily on her feet two stories below. She would have liked to hang around and wait for the high-pitched shrieks of the still-living occupants when the corpse was discovered, but with a belly full of blood and a new city to explore, Zorin wasn't about to hang around on her laurels all day.
Lighting another Privat, she scrubbed her chin with the back of her hand, making sure that the last traces of her meal weren't written plain on her face. Humming to herself, Zorin marched quietly down the streets of Paixao, her eyes half-lidded to ward off the worst of the burning light. What other trouble could she get into now?
The day had just begun - so it was guaranteed to be a lot.
Content: Everyone's favorite crazy lil' German has a bit of a meal and then a walkabout.
Setting: N4-ish. Nowhere special really.
Time: Sunday morning.
Warnings: Blood drinking.
Well, so far, so good. The frantic exhaustion that had overtaken her during her first night in Paixao had almost caused her to miss a very important event - sunrise. Very carefully, like a soldier poised at a door waiting for the enemy to pass by, Zorin placed herself. Keeping her back to the wall and the broken door she'd come in, the German craned her neck as far as it would go on her knotted shoulders, her eyes roaming what little sliver she could see of the sky. Light crept into the world, Zorin unable to keep from hissing at the sight. Almost holding her breath as she waited and watched, Zorin kept both eyes trained on the painted dome.
And nothing happened.
Raising her brow a fraction, Zorin chewed the inside of her cheek briefly. "Zur Hölle damit!!" Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or so the saying went. With an audible growl and a deep inhalation of breath, Zorin thrust her right hand into the open air. Once again, nothing happened. Not even the slightest twinge. Wie bitte? Following the hand with an arm, then a shoulder, followed by a very reluctant head, the false Vampire found herself staring at something she hadn't seen since the Reich. Sunrise.
The Letztes Battallion were all manufactured Vampires, created by a perverted science instead of the conventional way, but they still suffered the consequences of Vampirisim. (The actual ones, and not that nonsense about crosses and garlic, anyway.) Full sunlight still burnt, but for some reason, it didn't here. It would have made for quite a poetic sight, a Vampire seeing her first sunrise in 70 years - if said Vampire weren't downright hideous to behold. Coughing a laugh, she swung the scythe onto her shoulder, hooking her elbow around it to keep the whole ordeal balanced. With her free hand she fished out her pack of Privats and lit one. Now that the sun was up fully, however, Zorin was in for quite a shock. It hurt her eyes, especially the left one. Okay, so maybe things weren't going to be so easy after all. She'd have to invest in sunglasses, or a hat ... or ...heh... a parasol. Rip would never let her forget it, the freckled bitch. Maybe she'd just have to remind herself not to look straight ahead all the time. Bah. Scrubbing at her watering eyes, Zorin ducked back into the cool shelter of the basement. Her stomach was grumbling, and a quiet listen with her sensitive hearing told her that the occupants of her little hideaway were still in bed.
...
Time for a spot of breakfast.
Creeping up the stairs into the living space, Zorin followed the sound of a particularly-juicy beating heart, sliding like a ghost into the bed of the young woman that contained it. Zorin's illusory eye took on a dramatic slant, filling with blackness like a yawning void as a quiet drone filled the room. Soon the plain white sheets of the bed were covered in a multitude of writhing symbols as she practiced her art. May as well make the poor woman's last living hour in this city a pleasurable one. Now wrapped in a cocoon of illicit illusions, the woman arched into the cold white body of the Vampire who wrapped her in a hard embrace. Once again, it would have been a tragically gothic scene, a Vampire bestowing a death-filled kiss - but Zorin wasn't exactly that pale and beauteous Vampire. And the meal wasn't exactly a neat and tidy one.
Creeping out of the room as quietly as she had entered, Zorin left the woman stone dead, throat torn out by rows of wickedly-sharp teeth. Now that the twisting black letters of the illusion were gone, the amount of blood splashed on the sheets was quite liberal, ragged shreds of what had been the insides of the throat scattered about. Licking her chops like a sated wolf, Zorin hopped from the window, landing easily on her feet two stories below. She would have liked to hang around and wait for the high-pitched shrieks of the still-living occupants when the corpse was discovered, but with a belly full of blood and a new city to explore, Zorin wasn't about to hang around on her laurels all day.
Lighting another Privat, she scrubbed her chin with the back of her hand, making sure that the last traces of her meal weren't written plain on her face. Humming to herself, Zorin marched quietly down the streets of Paixao, her eyes half-lidded to ward off the worst of the burning light. What other trouble could she get into now?
The day had just begun - so it was guaranteed to be a lot.