And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell [Closed]

[Rowan Amber]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]459 WORDS FOR TAGGED Outfit DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]The night had only started two hours ago, but Rowan felt as if it had started hours ago. Maybe it was all the laughing the people around her were giving her the feeling. She was at the Laughing Corpse tonight, only to see what was so special about it that everyone was talking about it. She had been the club before, but that was when she could still see and knew what was happening. Being blind seemed to have its advantages, but this was not one of them. She had one of the hosts lead her to a booth in the back of the club to let others get a better view. All she could do was listen to what was happening. So far things were turning out well, but she couldn't quite tell what was happening. She could hear the man up on stage, but it was something that clearly needed to be seen to know what was going on. If she had Jezebel here, she could have asked the child what was going on, but alas the child was with her father. She got the child on the weekends and Alan got her during the weekday to take the child to school. Rowan couldn't risk letting the child know what she was, let alone tell her that she couldn't take her to school. It was one of the things that made it perfect for Alan to take the child, because then he could pick her up and help her with her homework. It worked, but Rowan wanted to be apart of her child's life more, but she was limited to the time she had with her child, even on the weekends considering the child was asleep while she was up and about and sleep before the child got out of bed. Rowan didn't know what she should do, but one thing was for sure, she would have to find a way to get the child to be with her more. Even if it meant to keep the child awake during the nights she was with Rowan and spend as much time as together as possible. The club seemed to keep her spirits up a bit, but it wasn't really the same without seeing what was happening. She needed something to keep her from leaving, and heading out to find something. She wanted to look for her sire, but she didn't know where to start. His disappearance had disturbed her, but the disappearance of the demon didn't. That disappearance actually made her quite glad that she wasn't in his care while Xavier was out running the streets amuck. If only she could find something to keep her from leaving. The club was nice, but it didn't feel right to be here. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[Lord Xavier]

the devil could not be everywhere

therefore he decided to create monsters like me

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #000000;] A treacherous wind was picking up outside on the streets of New Orleans, or, to be more precise, the streets of the vampire district, perhaps the most dangerous area in all of the land. All types of shady characters could be seen struggling against the push and pull of the gale, folding their arms, burying their chins into their chests, collars turned up, hair sticking out at wild angles, shabby medusas around every corner; but walking among and through them was the immaculately dressed and perfectly composed and entirely illusive Master of the City. Lord Xavier Vladimirescu was known around these parts, and known he should be because this all belonged to him at the end of the day. He was renowned throughout the world, in fact, as a ruthless killer with seemingly no emotions, driven by pure rage and greed, he revelled in the dark underbelly of humanity, crushing morals and conventions under the weight of his limitless power. He was the lord of the night, and king of the foulest areas of society. The wind didn't seem to have any effect on his black suit, not a crease in sight, and the same could be said of his dark grey shirt and maroon tie. If anyone had dared to look upon him, they might have guessed him to be some species of accomplished business man, and in some ways he was. In fact, he was out that very night dealing with business. The Laughing Corpse has been falling behind on payments and he decided to get this affair sorted out himself, the management wouldn't be turning him away or find the courage to refuse paying. Extending a large pale hand, the master vampire pushed open the comedy club's door and slipped inside, maroon eyes already scanning the sea of heads staring up obediently at the stage. Xavier paused for a minute or two to watch the current act, and he wasn't particularly impressed, just some humdrum comic moaning about situations in life that have already been commented on. The spell was broken when his attention was caught by a man to his right, he looked like he had intended to tug on the vampire master's sleeve but had thought better of it. "The manager wishes to see you, my lord," stammered the silly little human, all clammy and nervous, the smell of malt liquor emanating from his mouth, sweat pouring from his forehead. Deciding not to talk to the cretin, knowing he only had the time and patience for speaking with the manager himself, Xavier followed the small man's path as it wound through the sea of humans laughing in time to the jokes, stepping around the bar and being led into a back room. He could already smell heady medicinal smells, the scent of several different alkaloids that amassed into the distinct smell of kerosene. Stepping into the backroom, watching the small man scurry up to a rotund man sitting on the edge of a black leather couch, a devilish smile cracked across the vampire's mouth as he listened to their whispered conversation. It wasn't long before the small man scurried off and Lord Xavier stepped toward the couch, taking note of two werewolves standing either side holding powerful shotguns. The vampire master wondered how much to bet they were loaded with silver bullets, wondered how much fun it would be to be shot by one. "Ahh, Mister Xavier, what a pleasure--" began the fact club owner. "Lord," corrected the master vampire. "Sorry?" "It's Lord Xavier." "Oh. Of course. My apologies. Let's not beat around the bush, you're here to collect your money, I take it?" Lord Xavier didn't react nor did he say a word in reply. "Well, hehe, yes... You're here for your money. About that, I'm going to need more time." "You've had more than enough time. And, from what I can tell, you've been spending my money in order to set up your own operation for selling cocaine." The fat man spluttered and blood rose to his face and he went quite the shade of red. "How the fuck did you know about that? I... I... I..." "Quiet, worm. I want my money now." "Fuck you! You can't come into my club and make these demands!" he roared, and looking from one guard to the other he continued, "Boys, show Mister Xavier out." One of the brutes moved forward to grab Xavier's arm. The look of astonishment stayed on his face as he watched the vampire punch a hole straight through his chest, ripping out his lungs and heart, throwing the carcass across the room with such force that, when it hit the wall, it exploded with an almighty back spray of blood. The other werewolf bodyguard moved to shoot the vampire master, and just as he prepared himself to shoot he heard the hypnotic words of Lord Xavier and felt them take hold. The next thing he knew, he was turning the gun on himself, shoving the barrel in his mouth and pulling the trigger, the vampire grinning viciously at the brain matter and skull splattered across the wall behind the corpse which quickly slumped. Vanishing in a blur, Xavier reappeared beside the fat club owner, pinning him down on the couch, knee pressing down on his chest, maroon eyes watching the life drain from the human's eyes. Releasing the pressure on the man's chest, Xavier grabbed one of the man's hands and grinned, "The combination to the safe. I want my money, and I want it now." The fat man fought to catch his breath, unable to answer the vampire lord. "This should help to focus your mind." With one simple twist and tug, the human's right index finger came clean off. Enjoying the terrible screams, the vampire continued, "Give me my money." Another tug and one more finger came off, the digits dropping to the ground, grotesque worms ready to wriggle off. It wasn't long before the club owner gave the psychotic vampire his money, watching as he cleaned out the safe along with several kilogrammes of cocaine for good measure, the last thing he remembers is a tightly curled fist coming crashing down on his face. Settling the black leather duffel bag on the bar, it filled with blood money and extremely illegal drugs that would land him with a heavy fine and a considerable prison sentence, he couldn't help but smile as he lit a cigarette. Signalling for the bartender to pour him his favourite whisky with some ice, Lord Xavier's nostrils flared as he took in a familiar scent: that of his fledgling, Rowan. Cigarette in mouth, whisky in his right hand and duffel bag in his left, he went in search of his fledgling, quickly finding her seated in a secluded booth. "It's been a while, fledgling," muttered the vampire master through gravelly tones and the hint of a Romanian accent. Tossing the bag onto the seat, he squeezed in beside it, taking a drag from his cigarette, exhaling only to take a swig of whisky a second later. "So, what brings you to a dive like this, then?" He was curious as to how she would react to his presence, they hadn't seen one another in over three months, would she be firing questions at him all night?

Credit to Crayola

[Rowan Amber]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]601 WORDS FOR MASTER here is her outfit DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]"It's been a while, fledgling." That voice. She hadn't heard that voice in so long that she thought maybe she was dreaming. Calling out for his help ever since being taken away from that dreadful demon. Though it was such a pity for the demon to not hold her in her place, she had escaped and found herself trying to piece her life back together and put things right. She heard him put something in the seat and then sit down himself, but she didn't look at him. "So, what brings you to a dive like this, then? What was she doing there? She didn't exactly have an answer for him. She was curious about where he was when she needed him the most. Nothing could scrap her mind about trying to call for him, but not getting a response in return. She felt angry with him. "I have nothing else to do. I'm barred from seeing my injured child in the hospital because Soren can't control his stupid human servant, that damn necromancer hunter." The anger could be heard in her voice as she spoke. She still wasn't looking at him, nor would she unless he asked what was wrong that she wouldn't look at him. She did turn her head into his direction. In hopes of finding some reaction from him about the lost look her eyes were showing. "Why did you leave me?" her voice was softer now, the anger disappeared from it completely. She wasn't looking for answers from him, just one simple one that left her wondering about why she was left alone without the guidance and protection of him. Was it her disobeince for not killing Alan when she had the chance or that she was making him choose humanity over being a monster? Rowan moved to the edge of the seat and got up only to bump into a waiter passing by. The waiter grumbled something and she hissed at him back pushing him aside, nearly knocking the glasses he had off his tray. She had her hand on the edge of the table to know where the seat across from where she was sitting was located and scooted in next to Xavier. "You haven't aqcuired any scars since your disappearance, have you?" she asked as her hand found his face, her fingers gently moving across his cheek. She surprised even herself that she hadn't found his eye and poked it. "I've missed you." Her hand ruffled his hair, as it moved along the back of his head to his shoulder down his arm. Her fingers gently scraped the edge of the bag that sat on the other side of him, but hadn't said anything about it. "Did you hear about Alan? He's the Ulfric for the pack of New Orleans." There seemed to be a hint of saddness from her voice as if she wasn't exactly happy about the result of the man that tried to kill her so many years before, was someone of rank in the shifter community. She pulled her hand back into her lap as she looked at where she thought the table was suppose to be. She sat there for a few minutes, slient trying to get the courage to ask him, before finally making the move. "Can you help me?" she asked as she looked up at where she thought his face was suppose to be. Would he realize what she was asking if he looked at her closely? Her eyes were different if someone spent time looking at the damage that was done to them, but would he notice them? [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[Lord Xavier]

the devil could not be everywhere

therefore he decided to create monsters like me

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #000000;] Keen maroon eyes watching as her body tensed in surprise, his powerful mind stripping away her mental barriers to feel her shock at his arrival, he allowed a devious smile full of cunning and mischief to dance freely across his cold, thin lips. Was she not pleased to see her lord and master again? Was she not overjoyed that he had returned from only the gods know where to see her again? Was she not going to prostrate herself on the floor and start kissing his shoes, begging for forgiveness or some such nonsense? Apparently not. Apparently she had other ideas. Still connected to her mind, he felt her anger try to come crashing against him, but he brushed it off with ease, not allowing himself to sympathise with his slave. "Injured child?" he scoffed, taking another drag from his cigarette. Listening to the paper crackling under the heat of the flame, watching the amber slowly creep down the shaft, he continued to smile, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils. "Since when have you been a mother? Surely I haven't been gone that long." It struck him that he had never taken much interest in her past, just accepting in mild amusement as homicidal husbands turned up on his doorstep. Maybe there was more to this woman than he had thought, not just the simple girl he had murdered all those years ago, not just an artist but someone with a real history riddled with grisly emotions and terrible monsters. Flicking the ash into the carefully placed ashtray, Lord Xavier started raising his whisky to his lips. "Soren?" he questioned, pausing, delicious brown liquid suspended, ice revolving slowly. "Ah, yes. The one that has been running things while I was away." Taking a sip, no reaction passing over his face as he felt the alcohol course down his throat, the master vampire set the glass back down on the table. "How has he been managing things? What's this of a human servant?" Seemed like he had missed a lot in his recent disappearance. He always did. Her next question hit him in the chest, and he slumped backwards, snatching up his whisky almost in retaliation. Taking a large swig, he downed what was left, feeling the cold, smooth ice touch his equally pallid lips. He wouldn't answer her, he was a man that never apologised for his actions let alone justified them. Tossing the empty glass, aside from the ice cubes, back onto the table, he watched it spin off and almost tumble completely over the edge, hanging on the precipice. Resting both hands on the table, he played with the cigarette between his right index and middle finger, dark eyes watching passively as she made her way over to him. Listening to her, but continuing to stare ahead, he didn't move as her hand came up and started touching his pale, deathly cold face. The words admitting her having missed him sent an internal shiver through his body, he immediately broke off the mental contact, no longer wishing to feed on her emotions. Once her hand had left him, he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a long, hard drag, narrowing his eyes, staring off into space while he collected and examined a few wild thoughts. A smile broke out and transformed into one of his trademark grins, full of murder and grief. "I don't think we'll have any trouble from the werewolves. Those curs couldn't organise a tea party properly, let alone an armed rebellion," he said through his grin. "Let him play leader all he likes." Stubbing out his cigarette, he continued, "He won't get very far." And now it was time to face the fact of her blindness. He'd been ignoring it up until now for the simple fact he didn't care. It was times like these that people were reminded of how brutal and unfeeling the Master of the City could be, not even willing to show sympathy to his fledgling. "What do you expect me to do about it?" he asked coldly. Of course, Lord Xavier knew ways to remedy the situation as best he could, but her being blind was just a sign of her continued inability and weak will. She had to learn.

Credit to Crayola

[Rowan Amber]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]760 WORDS FOR Master notes can go here. this will scroll. notes can go here. this will scroll. notes can go here. this will scroll. notes can go here. this will scroll. notes can go here. this will scroll. notes can go here. this will scroll. DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]"Since when you have been a mother? Surely I haven't been gone that long." "No no. I didn't have a child in your absence. It was before you killed me. Alan's barred me from seeing her because he's scared I'll scar her with only coming to see her at night, but he has to stay away from her during the full moon." Rowan didn't sound very thrilled, but it was the truth. She couldn't exactly go to the hospital and sit at her bedside throughout the entire day. She would probably freak the child out during the day when she was dead to the world. She thought about telling Jezebel about what she was, but she wasn't sure how the ten year old would take the news of it. "Soren's not that great. He won't leave me alone. He's clingy, in a way of not leaving me alone. He feels responsible enough that he should be my babysitter. I'm not helpless." she snapped. Rowan was rather annoyed with Soren, always trying to find a way to get away from him and stay away. She was independent and didn't need anyone to help her. So she would learn to deal with her disability, but she didn't need someone hovering over her. "He had his vampire sibling come into town. She mentioned something about taking your place as Master of the City, but he wouldn't allow it. I don't really know what exactly happened. I was thrown about because apparently I was being disrespectful to the queen bitch of Sweden." "Human servant? Oh yeah. That hunter that was looking for you. The necromancer, Isi something. I don't know her last name. But she's his human servant. Though I don't know how he'll handle that little bundle of evil she's carrying. Pregnant with a demon's child. Want to guess the father?" She smiled when she asked that. She was glad the hunter had to still deal with the demon, even if she would never see him again. There were plenty of things she was glad about with the disappearances that had happened, but not Xavier's disappearance. That hit her the hardest. Especially after Alan's attack on her. She had a hard time getting around. She nearly didn't make it that night when it happened. It was only a few lucky souls who found her wandering around to lead her back to her resting location for the day to think into what had happened. "What do you expect me to do about it?" "I didn't mean anything like that. You're going back to your selfish ways. If you can't find a cure to get rid of the holy water damage then help me adapt to the surroundings. I stumble and fumble my way through and I hate having people guiding me. I don't want to put a strain on Jezebel when she gets out. She already knows it annoys me that I have to use her as my guide to get around. I don't need her ruining her childhood guiding me around. She would have had a better life in Canada than here. If it wasn't for Alan taking her away from my brother." she was rambling again, but she got her point across the moment she started talking about wanting to learn how to listen to her surroundings better. The rest just sort of stumbled out. "Will you help me?" Rowan wanted to be able to get around without the help of someone and be able to get away from Alan if he tried to sneak up on her and do something else that would forever disable her again. She didn't care whether or not she got her sight back, she just wanted to be able to use her disability to the best of her advantage. She hated being looked upon as such a weakling. If it had been anything important, she was the cause of the string of murders away from the Vampire District. It was her way of getting back at the community for making her feel like shit, even if they couldn't figure out it was her doing the killings. At least the bodies and victims weren't drained dry of blood. She knew how to kill someone and make it look like an animal, but she also made sure to be completely clean in her action of killing. It was her greatest secret and she had planned to keep it that way, but she wanted to be able to move as quietly as possible and let no one know a blind vampire was coming their way. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[Lord Xavier]

the devil could not be everywhere

therefore he decided to create monsters like me

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #000000;] Reaching inside his jacket, the tips of his fingers lightly brushed against his favourite weapon, Jekyll. It has been the instrument of Rowan's demise, and for a moment he was hurled back through time, watching her bleed to death, dragging her back from the depths of the underworld, from the ravenous clutches of Hades. Moving past the semi-automatic handgun that had taken so many souls, he carefully latched onto his platinum cigarette case, slowly pulling it out and setting it on the table in front of him. His habit for chain smoking was almost as infamous as his inordinate death toll. Pressing down on the small latch with his thumb, Lord Xavier opened up the case slowly, calmly picked up a brilliantly white and luxurious cigarette. Slipping it between his thin lips, the vampire master placed the case back inside his inner jacket pocket, resting his hands on the table a moment later. Without giving it much thought, the master vampire watched as the tip of the cigarette caught on fire, taking a deep drag, the amber ring burned its way slowly down the cancer stick. But, being the living dead and all, it was not like they were going to kill him any time soon. Condemned to immortality. With a single slow and smooth action, the vampire master gripped the cigarette between his right index and middle finger, exhaling a steady waterfall of smoke as he rested his hand back on the table. So, his fledgling was a mother as well as a wife, this revelation cast her into a totally new light. He couldn't help but wonder how aggressive she might become if backed into a corner, if he found a way of getting to her daughter in order to manipulate his fledgling. He was always interested in gaining more control over this particular slave of his. Lord Xavier smiled at his fledgling's description of the new temoin, second in command to the Master of the City himself. It seemed she didn't think of him too highly, which meant the master vampire would have to meet with this Soren character and judge whether or not he was really up for the job. "Was he clingy and trying to keep you safe before you lost your eyesight? If you suffered your ailment under his care, it would seem that I need to have a few words with him." Pausing to take a drag, he listened to her explanation of Soren's sister trying to take the title of 'Master of New Orleans'. It would be to his advantage to keep Soren on his side, the last thing Lord Xavier needed was a coup or insurrection on his hands. He had no doubt that he could take down two vampires and a human servant, but it made more sense to keep them on his side as opposed to facing them on the battlefield. It was time that he started building his own private army to deal with such situations, a fifty strong team of werewolves who have, by nature, no interest in becoming Master of New Orleans. No interest at all. Tapping ash once again into the glass tray, the master vampire smirked at the news of his demon enemy having impregnated one of his human enemies. "Luke," he replied, still smirking. "It's not every day you learn of a demon-human offspring on its way." His mind began ticking away at an incredible rate, conjuring ideas of how he could best use this information to his own advantage. With Soren under his thumb and that human bitch being under Soren's thumb, Lord Xavier would have complete control over the child; he just needed to figure out a way of using this creature to his own advantage, turning it against his demon enemies. At the mention of not wanting to ruin her own child's life, a pang of empathy struck the vampire's heart, having to live with the fact that his own daughter might be out there somewhere. She had been taken from him so many years ago now, each year he would mark the death of his enchanting wife and the birth of his beautiful daughter. It was his fault that she was still out there, still somebody's prisoner. He knew better than most what it was like to be a parent, hopeless and despairing, unable to help your own child out of the misery you've caused them. "I'll help you," he muttered, taking a quick drag, blowing it out as quickly as it went in. "I won't be able to repair the damage caused by the holy water, but I can train you to see without your eyes." Pushing the cigarette between his lips, the master vampire repositioned the duffel bag and turned to look at his fledgling. "Are you prepared to learn how to defend yourself? Or are you still worried about losing your humanity if you start taking the lives of others?" She was a vampire, a monster after all.

Credit to Crayola

[Rowan Amber]

To let you know that you're not alone

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell

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"Was he clingy and trying to keep you safe before you lost your eyesight? If you suffered your aliment under his care, it would seem that I need to have a few words with him."

Rowan shook her head. "No. He came shortly after the accident. Alan tried to involve Jezebel into the attack, but I made her run for cover and get to a police station to look for you. I know it seemed foolish at the time, but I didn't know if you would come to her aid or not. I didn't want her to find out what Alan was. She doesn't know anything about him. All she knows is that he's her father and a police detective." Rowan was trying to make sure Jezebel never knew of her father's history. Everything about Alan was trouble. That's all he was. No wonder his wives never got the chance to speak out, he killed them before they got the chance. She just happened to be the one that got away.

And the one to fall into Xavier's trap in New York. Her entire night had just finished when he came around. She remembered the night clearly. It was certainly something to keep in the back of her mind about. She had been heading home through an abandoned section of the city, minding her own business and trying to find the next person to give in to her addiction. She seemed to enjoy people's screams as if they were the musical soundtrack of her life. She would draw their dying life out before she gave them the final blow. She had heard the police reports of the attacks after the bodies were found two weeks later. She had it look like they had gone out on some kind of vacation to let their families know not to expect them anytime soon before they were found. It had been her biggest secret and it seemed to only be enhanced by Xavier making her into a vampire.

"I'll help you. I won't be able to repair the damage caused by the holy water, but I can train you to see without your eyes." Those words seemed to bring a smile to Rowan's face. She would never be able to draw again, but she would find something to keep her fingers busy, even if it meant continuing her old habits of killing people and leaving the bodies for their families to find them weeks later. "Are you prepared to learn how to defend yourself? Or are you still worried about losing your humanity if you start taking the lives of others?" If she was still human, she would probably have her cheeks bring a light rosy color to them at the mention of her being worried about losing her humanity.

During the short time that he had been away, she kept the persona of the innocent Rowan while bringing the deadly Amethyst out. Of course she lured all the drunken men out of their drinking holes and left them to drain of their blood while she recorded each of their screams for keepsakes. She couldn't draw their deaths anymore, but she could at least hear their dying screams on record to know that each of her kills were unique in every way. "Yeah, about that. Did you keep up with the news when you killed me in New York? And the string of murders that the police thought were animal attacks, but none of the victims were found outside or had any pets? Each victim had told their families that they were going on vacation so their families had no idea they went missing when they found the bodies of the deceased?" Rowan stopped there wondering Xavier would pick up where she was heading to. She was the cause of those murders and kept them going even now in New Orleans despite the fact that she had to guess where everything was at to get by. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if she had her sight back..

STARRING: Xavier | WORDS: 675 | LOCATION: The Laughing Corpse| OUTFIT: | NOTES: |

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[style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMS
PURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0

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[Lord Xavier]

the devil could not be everywhere

therefore he decided to create monsters like me

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #000000;] Lord Xavier frowned at the mention of his fledgling's husband. Alan Blythe was becoming a recurrent problem for her and he would start being a problem for the vampire master if the cur decided to team up with the other lycanthrope leaders. He had never really given it much thought until now, but the werewolf could prove to be a particularly annoying enemy, especially when the vampire master preferred not to make allies with anybody who wasn't his own kind. Perhaps, once he had made contact with Soren, he would have him scout for any lycanthrope insurgency. "You are going to have to kill your husband sooner or later," he stated. "Sooner or later, you're going to have to watch the life die in his eyes, the activity flicker out in his brain, the last of his blood stopping, congealing in his heart." Lifting up his cigarette, the vampire master paused for a while, taking slow, steady drags, allowing his mind to feel those present in the club that night. Lord Xavier was turning over a few devious ideas in his mind, unable to stop himself from grinning at the thought of having a little fun with his pet vampiress. He would need to gauge first hand just how useless she was without her eyes, only from there would he be able to judge just how much training she would need to be able to walk the lands and fight as if she had perfect vision. "The next time you see your husband, you will kill him," he ordered, stubbing out his cigarette. The master vampire would train his fledgling up, teach her how to fight enemies without the use of her eyes, how to guarantee every thrust of the knife will make contact with a vital organ, the basics for despatching enemies quickly and effectively. "The sooner he is gone from this world the better. I won't have some cur pup running around trying to take command and muscle in on my territory. So, from now on, you are to kill Alan Blythe on sight." Taking some time to think, listening to the latest comedian crack open another joke from their seemingly limitless stockpile, he allowed his maroon eyes to scan the audience which was seated and attentive. Their booth was particularly secluded and gave the vampire ample opportunity to pick out a lucky being or two to take part in his experiment. Sadly his concentration was broken by his fledgling's voice; he decided to return his attention to her, to see what more she had to say. The more he listened to her little story, which teemed with suggestion and hint, he couldn't help but allow a hideous grin to surface and break across his lips, sickeningly white teeth gleaming in the dark. He paused for a minute or so after she had finished speaking and replied slowly, "You're telling me you're a serial killer?" There was the briefest of pauses before the entire building broke out into laughter and applause, the vampire master joining in, maniacal laughter that sprang from the pits of hell to make an appearance that night, hacking away at your soul. It went on for what seemed like an aeon, just a continuous stream of laughter that swelled high and mighty, the clapping ensued, and together the two sounds were enough to send a grown man to the floor in pain, the sheer sound rocked the club. And as quickly as it began, it ended. Complete, dead-pan silence. The comedy show continued, Lord Xavier's smile vanished, just staring at his fledgling, studying her glassy dead eyes. "You didn't have serial killer in your eyes back then, and you certainly don't have it in your eyes now," he stated, grabbing hold of the duffel bag. Making his way out of the booth, he didn't bother telling her that he was leaving, she would either find a way of following him or she would stay where she was sat. He couldn't help but wonder why she needed to invent such ridiculous stories about her past. Rowan a serial killer? He would die laughing from that joke.

Credit to Crayola

[Rowan Amber]

To let you know that you're not alone

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell

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Killing Alan? And how in the world would he expect her to do that? The man seemed to be the master of all ways to get her to stoop down to his level just to kill the man. Would Jezebel hate her to know that Alan wouldn't be around for much longer? Would Rowan even allow the child to know that her father was dead and killed by her own hand? No, not really, but Rowan wasn't going to say anything on the matter. It was just going to be a little tricky to kill a werewolf that knew most of her weaknesses.

"The next time you see your husband, you will kill him." He wasn't her husband anymore. She technically dead and he was widowed for the third time. She was no longer attached to him by a ring, only a child that would be hers to deal with when Alan left the planet for good. "Yet, your animal to call is wolves. You can easily call him and kill him when you see him. I don't see why I have to, when I can hardly see anything at all." Her voice was snappy and a little annoyed. She wasn't one to get angry over Alan, but the elder vampire wasn't using his resources to his advantage. He could easily call the wolves to him and have Alan slain right before his eyes. Nothing more. And then everything about Alan would be done and gone for.

The reaction she received from him was something she sort of had been expecting. She didn't give off anything to assume that she was a serial killer. Nothing did. She had the persona of an innocent woman scared to death of the husband she once thought was the most amazing man in the world. What she left behind as Amethyst was something she made sure to leave out of the picture. At least until she had the urging to do it again. The abuse of her parents and the countless animals she received as a child did some damage to her, but it only made her coy about how she would react to those around her.

"You didn't have serial killer in your eyes back then, and you certainly don't have it in your eyes now."

"Of course they aren't there now. How exactly can a blind woman reveal any sort of emotion with eyes that are practically useless? Explain that to me?" She sat there while she heard the rustling of the bag being taken out of the booth and heard the footfalls of him disappearing. She scooted out of the booth and started walking back to the entrance. She didn't need help, because her goal was to get to the doors before him and head outside.

She hit the doors to the walkway of the club, but didn't know if she walked past him or not. She couldn't smell him anymore and the smoke from his cigarette. So she headed to the doors that lead outside. Hitting the warm air of the New Orleans winter she stood there for what seemed like hours before heading into a direction that she would assume had some unfortunate souls wandering carelessly about. They would make her night easier, but would end theirs miserably.

Why was she trying to prove to him that she had been a serial killer? What did that give him? More motive to make him use her for his dirty work. That's what. Why she didn't keep her mouth shut seemed silly to her, but it was a matter of him finding out sooner or later of her dirty deeds and the habits she gotten herself into as a young child.

"Hey sexy. Where ya heading? I could use some lovin."

"What kind of lovin', darling? I could certainly use a few tough guys to give me a helping hand." Amethyst was certainly one to lure someone into her trap, but would it work? She would certainly find out if it did or not. Would Xavier believe her after this?

"I've got a few guys waiting over in there walkway. Come with me and I'll show you." The man wasn't exactly the brightest, but Amethyst wasn't exactly complaining as his hand grabbed hers and lead her along.

"Who's this charming young lass? She's quite a beauty. What's wrong with your face?"

Rowan didn't wait much longer than that and she didn't answer why her face was so disfigured from holy water damage. The three men weren't overly large, but they held a nasty grip when she tried to struggle against them. "You can't rape the willing, loves. Though I do hope you enjoy the afterlife. I'd rather not because I already know I belong in hell." she smiled as she scraped at one of their necks with her nails, the scent of blood lingering on her finger as one tried to fight her off to help their friend.

Sad to say, the battle didn't last long, but she hadn't killed them. She left them mortally wounded and had what looked like a tape recorder in her hand, tapping their last and final screams or moans. She stood there with blood on her white shirt acting as if nothing had happened. She had damaged most of the nerve bundles in their bodies to keep them from moving, she hardly had to care if they tried to move toward her or not, but their cries wouldn't have been heard. She made sure of that when she stopped the recording.

"I would assume you've been watching in the shadows the whole time?" she lifted her head to listen for the response of the elder vampire. She didn't stand there much longer before ending each of the victims' lives by slicing their necks over the jugular vein. "If you don't want attention drawn to us, let me have your jacket. I know, I'm such a ghastly sight at this point that would raise questions about what I was doing in an alley with three men." She stepped away from the bodies and stood in the center of where the bodies lied with the rest of their blood draining onto the ground, the blood starting to pool around her converses. She'd have to get rid of them when they got back, but no one would assume anything on the shoes and think it was merely dried dirt. Would Xavier be proud or amused of her actions? She certainly put on a show to wipe the smug look off his face.

STARRING: Xavier| WORDS: 1081 | LOCATION: The Laughing Corpse | OUTFIT: | NOTES: |

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[style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMS
PURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0

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[Lord Xavier]

the devil could not be everywhere

therefore he decided to create monsters like me

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=align,center][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #000000;] Making his way toward the exit, the master vampire mulled over his fledgling's words. Why didn't he just dispatch of Alan himself? Why rely on a blind, young vampiress that had a habit of getting herself beaten up and tortured by her attackers? Well, in all honesty, it was a matter of principal and for the sake of good sport. Lord Xavier killing Alan would be quick and relatively dull, but having Rowan kill him would leave some lasting effect, perhaps, if he was lucky, it would scar her for the rest of her life. Moving around the crowd as opposed to walking through it, the master vampire turned his head back to take a final look at his fledgling. A devilish smile cracked open across his mouth when he observed her following him out. What was she up to? He couldn't help but wonder, guessing she wanted to display to him her ability to kill on demand. She was relatively easy to manipulate at times, and it was this level of manipulation that would allow him to convince her to murder Alan Blythe. Silently impressed and amused at her attempt to get to the door before him, the image of Lord Xavier flickered for a moment before vanishing completely. Every mind that he came across was dominated, manipulating their perception to remove him from reality completely. Nobody could see him, hear him, smell him or even touch him; he was, in all sense of the word, a ghost. It was the perfect cover to follow his fledgling around, to see what she got up to, study her closely. Keeping a close and steady pace behind his fledgling, the master vampire couldn't help but smile when he realised she was descending into the darker depths of the vampire district, where rabid hobos suffering from junk sickness would rape and kill anything they came across. Seemed a bit pathetic if she was trying to prove something, nobody would care about these cockroaches leaving the earth, there was no spectacle and that was paramount if you wanted to consider yourself a true villain. Slowing to a halt and watching her interact with the unfortunate souls, Lord Xavier folded his arms, remaining unseen and unheard by all. Watching silently as she attacked the three men with ferocious fervour, toying with their mortality to record their dying screams, standing over their twitching paralysed bodies. The vampire master decided to reveal himself but continued to stand perfectly still, arms folded and expression blank if not bored. Listening to her speak, remaining still, he watched as she dispatched all of her victims. "I would have thought, after all these years in my service, you would have learned some originality when it came to murder," he muttered. "You act more like an attention seeking child than a serial killer, throwing your toy out of the pram to get mummy's attention." As mysteriously as he had appeared, the master vampire vanished once more. There was a deathly silence which presided over the area even the three bodies vanished silently. A few seconds later, the master vampire reappeared, arms still folded and smiling, with three of his creations behind him. Dug into the ground were long steel rods, usually used to reinforce concrete, pointing up into the air at jaunty angles. On each steel rod, stuck like a pig, was one of the three murdered men, the rods penetrating right through their body emerging through their skulls, the two on the outside through their eyes and the one in the middle through his mouth, long black tongue lolled out and lapping at the night sky, their throats spilling scarlet waterfalls, their blood appearing quite black in the moonlight. Horrific shish kebabs. "While you might not be able to appreciate it, the authorities surely will," he announced darkly, laughing madly for a good few minutes. Looking over his shoulder at his creations he couldn't help but feel they were missing something. "Making a spectacle out of death, a macabre presentation, that is what separates us from the lycan curs." Snapping his fingers, he turned his head back as the three figures burst into bright orange flame, eyeballs exploding, hair sizzling, flesh peeling back, blackening muscle and turning white bone into charcoal. The smell of burning, cooking flesh filled the air, you could hear the snap, crackle and pop of the skin as it burst and peeled back, the snapping of bones as if they were dry twigs. It was a shame she was blind, unable to watch as the flesh vanished from the faces, stripped off, dripping to the floor, revealing hideous and grinning skulls whose slack jaws started to droop, laughing at the pathetic attempts of the so-called vampire serial killer Rowan. Lord Xavier picked up his duffel bag and moved off once more, heading back to the streets of his district, the Vampire District.

Credit to Crayola