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Post by Aira Eresse on Apr 30, 2007 20:26:40 GMT -5
||ooc: Okay, vampires. Everyone loves vampires. This is just a generic vampire roleplay, set in Manhattan, but it is STRONGLY INFLUENCED by Anne Rice. Which means these are the rules for vampires: -immortal- no aging! They don’t change at all from the day they “died”. If hair is cut, it grows back the next day to what it was, but no more. -killed only by fire, and the ashes must be scattered, or sunlight. No stakes or crosses or holy water or any bullshit like that -no hybrids or vampires that can go out in the day or don’t need to drink blood or bull like that. Vampires drink blood. that’s how it is in this roleplay. If you’d like it some other way, go make a new one please. I want to keep mine like this. -you CAN have guns if you want, but please don’t make this too Underworldish or any of that. If you want to have a sword or something, that’s okay too, just don’t go swinging it around. It’s manhattan. Make it believable. -you can be as rich as you want! Vampires save up a lot of money over their long lives, so its totally believable that they have sufficient funds. SO don’t worry about being too despie in that aspect. I think that’s about it, please have fun, and make this worth reading and writing in!|| *** Earth. Devouring her. Eating her body and mind. How long had she been underground, the worms and insects crawling around her like they would the roots of a tree. Her skin, ashen and brittle clung to her bones, muscles thin and weak. But the sounds of the world above filled her ears and woke her mind slowly, until she could taste the dry, bitter soil, threatening to suffocate her, that is, if breath was what she needed to live. The rats that were foolish enough to come to close were snatched in creaking skeletal fingers, and slowly, every so slowly, as the days went by, she clawed her way to the world above...A pale white hand pushed up on the plush black lining, lifting the lid of the casket. Candle light flooded over a pale, slightly rounded face. The sun had long since disappeared below the roofs of the city, the only light now from the streets outside and the few candles lit in the otherwise dark bedroom. She could have well risen earlier, soon after the last rays of sunlight had vanished, but despite her consciousness within her coffin, she had lay there, as she did every evening, much longer than needed, remnants of her dreams floating about her. Climbing slowly out of the black coffin, she surveyed the bedroom of the large apartment she lived in at the Dakota. Not with her eyes of course, but her ears. She heard no stirring within the room, or any other room in the apartment. Dameon must have gone hunting already. He was young, a fledgling by vampire standards. Two years ago when she had surfaced from the earth, she had found him, less than a month into his immortality, and the two had clung to each other. Not out of fondness for one another, no, in fact the two rarely agreed on much, but out of need. She, a woman of the late sixteenth century, knew nothing of the new millennium and it’s culture. She hadn’t crept among the living for a good one hundred years. She had missed wars, inventions, many changes, many names come into the spotlight and leave again. And he was alone, no other immortals to teach him. He had nearly died, his creator fleeing moments after his birth. So the two had joined. She taught him the life he was to life he was to live until the world ended, and he showed her how to hide and fit in in this new, drastically different world. Her assets, still quite large in a bank in London, were quickly transferred to a New York bank under a new name. Amelia D’Aardema. A descendent of her previous self. And the two had lived quite comfortably for the past two years. Then needed each other very little now, but neither wanted to be alone, even if their companion was someone they had nearly nothing in common with. She closed the lid of the casket, a beautifully crafted black coffin trimmed in silver. True, she had once preferred the classic coffins, tapered at the feet, but the sight of them, even in the old black and white films she enjoyed, were a pain to see. And heartbreaking to lie in. They forced her to dream of faces she didn’t want to think of. Years she would rather forget. A life that was no longer hers. The room was classy, a tribute to black silk it seemed. The bed (there simply for the appearance) was covered in silk sheets and a thick black embroidered comforter. Silk curtains, black candles, silk scarves draped over bedside tables and over a chair by the window. Everywhere. As if the room were in unending mourning. A large closet branched off one side of the room, a master bath on the adjacent wall (which of course, had never been used, save the occasional bath, which was never needed). She walked slowly over to the mirror, surveying herself as she did every evening. The same face stared back at her. The same coal colored hair hung around the porcelain skin. The same smoky eyes blinked under black lashes. The same hands grasped the dresser, glassy fingernails reflecting the candlelight. The same head bowed. Ten minutes later, she was walking out of the elevator, through the lobby, and out into the streets of Manhattan. Her hair was pulled up, and she had changed into an outfit of black, one of her favorite dresses, white arms and legs nearly glowing in the neon. She weaved in and about the people on the streets, the scent of their flesh and blood filling her nostrils, but not quite intoxicating. Not yet. Her thirst wasn’t too strong yet, she had time to find a decent kill.
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Post by flamindragon13 on May 3, 2007 20:24:28 GMT -5
Laila swirled the wine in the glass she was holding. She looked through it at the man that was talking to her on the other side of her desk. She had her feet propped on top of the dark oak wood as she half listened to the man. The room was dark, with only a dim light on. The man stood in the middle of this light, as if it sheltered him. Laila was hidden int eh shadows.
"We need more time to persuade the owners to sell to us. They are very unwilling to, um, sell to some one who... looks as you do," he stuttered. He looked around nervously, his black eyes darting around her office. He twisted his hat in his hands as he spoke. Laila could smell his fear. She sighed. Good help is so hard to find these days, she thought to herself. She took a sip of her wine and looked with him with steel blue eyes.
"I don't need you excuses," she said coldly, setting down the glass and leaning forward into the light. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer as she came out of the shadows, her fiery red hair falling around her face. "I need results. This is your last chance Morgan." She waved a pale hand and dismissed him. She stood up and opened the curtains she had kept close. She looked down on the Manhattan streets. The sun had only set, and she was already getting a head ache. She hated this day in age. Laila was a multibillionaire who owned a business. She was into every thing. Banking, real estate, trade. It had took years to build her empire. And now she couldn't get this one estate because she was a vampire. Not that the sellers knew that of course. Only a few of her employees knew that about her. She stared at her reflection in the window. She looked the same as she did back in the middle ages. Pale skin, shoulder length red hair, cold blue eyes, red lips. Still only seventeen. The only difference between then and now was the clothes. Laila wore dark blue jeans, heeled shoes, and a dark green button up shirt that was rolled up to her elbows. Much different from the dresses she was forced to wear back then. That was the problem that the sellers had. They had insisted on meeting her before they sold. They think they are selling to a seventeen year old that was trying to scam them. Laila scowled, and drank the rest of her wine. She grabbed her jacket from eh back of the office door. She walked by her secretary on her way out.
"Elana, I'm going out. Hold all my calls and if any one stops buy, send them home." Laila walked into the elevator, and watched her secretary follow her orders as the door closed. She was soon out in the streets. She breathed int eh aromas of civilization. The thirst wasn't consuming yet so she decided to walk and find a meal worth taking. She was getting lonely.
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Post by Aira Eresse on May 3, 2007 21:17:45 GMT -5
The city never slept. Never. Despite the late hours, the streets were always busy, always alive. But were they really? How many other immortals strolled the sidewalks, waited at the crosswalk, ran to catch the evening show of some broadway production or another? Half a dozen at least, Amelia knew, if not more. Not just her and Dameon. She'd seen them. Marble skinned beauties on the stages, sitting at the bars with untouched glasses in front of them, shopping in the department stores. And no one bothered anyone much. No one was over territorial, in fact, they generally avoided one another. You might exchange a few words in line at the theater, or share some whispers of the activities of the more vicious vampires in Brooklyn or some other place while browsing diamonds. It wasn't at all difficult to spot them. The pallor of their skin, their unearthly beauty, and if you were in any doubt the glassy fingernails were a dead giveaway- given they weren't painted.
Amelia called out in her mind, searching for Dameon out of curiosity. He answered here briefly. I'm busy, I'll meet you later. He was probably getting himself into trouble again, following some young blond or another. She continued on, past restaurants giving off heavy aromas that made Amelia turn away. Consuming the food of mortals wasn't impossible for her, but it was much like consuming something rather vile and grotesque. The smell wasn't bad, rather, she enjoyed it. But she rathered her mouth not water for what would surely disappoint her. Blood was what she wanted, and there was an abundance of it swarming the city like bees in a hive.
Pausing to look in a shop window, she caught the footsteps and reflection of a pale young red-haired girl exiting a tall building that reflected the city lights. She'd seen the young executive multiple times, though the two had never spoken. Lalia, she thought her name was, if what she had been told was true. She'd made quite a fortune for herself much differently than Amelia had. Hers was an inheritence from her creator, well invested and saved until it had amassed to quite the heavy sum. But she never spent it as lavishly as it had once been spent on her.
A white face and long blond hair. An archangel, walking beside her. Where were they? A tailors. She was wearing a ball gown of satin and her neck was draped in pearls. "You're lovely my dear," the angel figure said. "Only the best my beautiful. Whatever you desire." His face was so clear. Every perfect angle, every glitter in those cerulean eyes...
She blinked, forcing the memory away as quickly as it had come. Maybe tonight was a night for a show. A play sounded nice. Or an opera. She continued down the sidewalk, eyes scanning the dozens of billboards for any idea for the evening's venture.
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Post by bloodrose616 on May 8, 2007 20:37:49 GMT -5
//ooc: if this double posts, sorry...//
Eleanor sat in her dressing room, staring at her reflection. She dragged blush across her high, sharp cheekbones and smoothed lipstick onto pale lips. She grinned, revealing fangs, then closed her mouth and turned to the door as someone knocked. "What?"
"Half hour."
"Go away." She checked her red nails to make sure they were dry.
"Be ready."
"have I ever not?" she muttered as the footsteps receded. She buried her face in her hands, then got up and walked over to the wardrobe, slipping into the majenta dress she'd open the show with and lacing the bodice tightly.
She picked up the ancient cross from her table and fastened it around her neck, memories of her life in renaissance France tormenting her. She shook her head and loosely braided her knee-length black hair, tying it off with a blue ribbon.
"Fifteen, El!"
She threw her script at the door. "I have a clock!"
"You ready?"
"In five. Go away!" She threw another book at the door, almost laughing when she heard the stage manager walking away.
She slid her rings on as she walked out of her dressing room, carrying her heels.
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Post by waterfae9 on May 10, 2007 15:34:04 GMT -5
A small pale hand with hot pink nails tipped with black reached for the brass door handle. She had her nails done the night before, for tonight she had a date or at lest that’s what the other person thought it was. For her this would be an easy meal. She wore a pair of black denim jeans and a red long sleeve button up shirt. She normally preferred to walk around bare foot but tonight she had to dress up. She wore red high heels. She stepped on the side walk when she heard her phone ring. She sighed. “not again” she ran inside and to her living room where her phone was. “hello” she answered. “Sera?” came the reply. “yea this is her” she answered the voice “who is this” she asked “its John from the other night at the bar” he said “ I was just wondering when you were going to get to the restaurant.” He said in a rush. “soon I told you last time you called I would be there shortly I’m leaving now.” She said and hung up the phone with out waiting for him to reply She ran out her door locking it behind her. A cool breeze blew and she shivered it was not un like that night a few years ago when she had been turned in to a vampire . It was four or five years ago she had been walking home from the library on camps and was on her way back to her dorm when she had been stopped by some one who she had never seen before. He told her that she should not be walking alone at night and offered to walk her the rest of the way to her dorm. She knew the way but let him walk her any ways but when she saw the dorm he had steered her off in to the woods. She shock her head letting her shoulder length brown hair move with it. She did not want to think about it. She took a hair band off her wrist and put her hair up in the back and then stood the calor of her shirt up she that no one could see her neck. She walked past a bank and though it best to go in and get some money. Her regular teller was there. “ Ah Sera” he said and waved. He knew what she wanted “same as always” He asked, “yea” she said and he handed her one hundred dollars just like every week when she came in. Before she had been going to collage but there was also a traveling theater group. They liked how she looked when they saw her on the street a few days after she had been bitten. “she really played that part” they said “image if she can look like this on the street what she can look like on stage” So after she finished her last year of college she left for a two year tour with them before getting board and deiced to stop moving around. Sera was only 27 and still had quite a bit of money left over from it. She reached the restaurant and smelled the blood in the air. It was a good thing she was not hungry yet or things could go horribly wrong. She walked in to the restaurant and spotted John. He waved excitedly and she walked over to him “oh dear lord he brought flower” she thought to her self. She put on a fake smile and walked over to him. “hey” she said cheerfully.
(i said 27 but i was not thinking that would be how old she was now she was 24 almost 25ish when she was turned in to a vampire sorry bout that)
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Post by flamindragon13 on May 10, 2007 17:10:50 GMT -5
Laila walked down the street in a sullen mood. Morgan was making it difficult for her to transfer again. Every 5-10 years or so, she would change cities, and her name. Humans seemed to notice when, after a few years, that she didn't age. She stopped outside a store and gazed at her reflection when she noticed a blinding advertisement for a Broadway show. She grinned to herself. That's exactly what I need tonight, she thought to herself. She was dressed up enough and always had a box seat open for her at most theaters. Laila turned on her heel, her black jacket swinging around her, and walked across the street.
"Nice to see you again Miss. Hellsnight," The door man said giving her a program. Laila nodded at him and made her way to her seat. She sat down, waiting for the show to start.
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Post by Ankoku on May 11, 2007 23:15:45 GMT -5
Atraya grinned as she flicked an extremely annoying piece of waist-length red-blond hair out of her eyes. Gray blue eyes.
She was doing her past-time hobby, people watching. It was honestly hilarious. With the high class, millionaire rushing out of her office, to the bored looking black haired girl just looking for something to do, to the other random people that were rushing around doing random things in the black of the night.
God she needed a life.
She pulled at the tattered sleeves of her pull over, playing with the strings on the ends, and sighed. She wasn't hungry, not tonight. Today would have been considered her 'birthday'...if you wanted to call it that. Normal vampires--if you could call them normal-- would not call the day that they became a vampire a birthday. Maybe a death day...but that just sounded like something in a book she had read at one point. Maybe a 'the day we became a vampire day' day. But that was to lengthy.
"Gah! I'm thinking to much again." she muttered, quite aware of the fact that she did not speak very quietly, and a few people were now looking at her curiously. "Heheheheh..." she looked away quickly. She hated meeting the gaze of the mortal.
"And now...I'm starting to sound like my creator. Darn it. Thats defiantly something I do not want to do." She paused. "Why am I talking to myself?"
Atraya swiftly stood up, and pulled at her jeans to cover her shoes slightly. The night was warm so she unzipped her jacket a little so she wouldn't look to out of place. Not that she really cared thought.
"How many years has it been?" she asked herself. She had never really counted. She more or less just knew when the years pasted by, yet still had no urge to count how many years she had been on this rock of a planet. All she really wanted to know was that she was 18. And had been for some time now.
Atraya smiled brightly. 'Gotta be optimistic!' she thought. 'What ever the hell that means'.
"Well I guess its not much of a birthday if I don't treat myself!" she almost punched the air in almost excitement. It was time to do something for once in her long life.
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Post by Aira Eresse on May 13, 2007 22:02:04 GMT -5
She passed a theater that looked promising, and turned back, listening to the mortals around it talk of the show, all dressed in their finest. It seemed to be an opera of sorts, not the most common of productions on broadway these days. Amelia was intrigued.
"The lead actress is divine," said an aging man, probably nearing his late sixties, with a silver moustache and gold cuff links. "Best soprano I've seen in years."
"True, true," said a young woman nearby. "The blond has talent. But it's the violinist that has everyone talking, don't you know? He's magnificent! And so handsome. The theater won't disclose his name however, and he's not in the program. It's rather odd."
Violins? Amelia's head began to spin.
"I wrote this one for you love." The voice that spoke was soft, kind, loving. The face was full of life, and beautiful beyond measure. White blond hair fell into dark green eyes, the dark, polished violin giving off a ghostlike reflection of the inhuman beauty...
"I think...a comedy...is in order tonight...yes...a comedy would be good..." She turned quickly, knowing that Avenue Q and Spamalot were both playing nearby. The music was by no means what she wanted to listen to. It was filth compared to her precious Beethoven, or the more modern Andrew Lloyd Webber. But it could capture her attention. It could entertain. It could...distract.
She was making her way towards a large theater proudly displaying the large orange Avenue Q logo when a figure dropped down, seemingly out of nowhere and fell into step beside her. "Amelia, baby." The figure was a good bit taller, with broad shoulders and a sublte muscular physique. Like Amelia, he was dressed in black, though a more punk rocker style, and his gelled hair was black, though this was obviously dyed. She didn't even need to look to know who it was. She knew Dameon's presence like it was her own.
Have a good kill? she asked wordlessly. No, he replied. She wasn't nearly as filling as she was beautiful. Another whore, Dameon? That was once! Twice. One whore and one stripper. And what was this one? A Rockette. You liar. Okay, so she was a stripper trying to be a Rockette. Gimme a break! Whatever Dameon. Sooooo yeah...wanna go get something to eat?
As annoying as he could be, and as childish, he was more distracting than a show. He was a show. And she was a little thirsty.
Ok.
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Post by waterfae9 on May 14, 2007 15:37:52 GMT -5
Sera sat down with John. When it came time to order their food she just ordered soup. "nit hungary" John asked her. "not really" Sera said. He looked at the flowers. "oh these are for you" he said handing her the bouquet. "i did not know your favorite so i just got a bunch." She looked at there flowers there were Grape hyacinth, or as her dad used to call them Blueberry bells. Her dad was so odd. She laughed at the memory. There was also lilies in the bouquet as well as a Crateva religiosa also know as the temple plant, *i have to much time on my hands* she thought thinking of all the books she had been reading lately. all surrounding one red rose. She looked at the flowers the smiled sweetly. "thank you" she said in her head she thought. "ug how long till we leave" When the finished there meal John said. "i hear theres a show playing tonight and i have two ticket wanna go. "sure I'd love to" she lied. She knew she would have to wait for this one but if she waited he would be more tired and her meal would be easier to kill.
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Post by Ankoku on May 14, 2007 18:25:09 GMT -5
Atraya pouted. She was all out of ideas...and almost out of money...well, at least the money she had on her. All that was let was about 10 cents. Buying the grapes to throw at people was fun, but got old after the 5th person spotted her in a tree and threatened to call the cops.
If she learned anything of importance from her family/creator/old friends. It was that cops were not good. Apparently jail wasn't fun.
'Hmmm...I could, go home...' she thought. 'No! its way to early....maybe a movie?' She stopped walking to look around to see if anything interesting was near her.
Ignoring the annoyed mutterings of the people behind her, she approached a board that had multiple posters for random things that were going on.
"...Screw this..." Taking her hand and placing it over her eyes, she lifted her other hand, rotated it a few times, and placed a painted green nail on a random poster. "Theater it is!" she announced. "Now...where is the theater." She shrugged and started walking in the diction her instincts told her to go.
'Remember Atra, your instincts are your best friends...but in your case, I'd think twice before I listen to them.'
Atraya sighed at the memory, and looking up at the stars. 'Hope you're alright were you are...' . She smiled warmly, and set off in the direction she dearly wished was the right way.
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Post by bloodrose616 on May 16, 2007 13:14:53 GMT -5
El looked up as someone stopped in front of her. "Watch it!" She looked at the person. "Oh, sorry Pen."
Eleanor's older sister merely smiled. "You look frazzled."
"And you don't." Eleanor looked the other woman over, noting her black slacks, heels and jacket and bright red tank top. "You never do."
Pen smiled. "It's a talent. You ready?"
"How'd you do your hair?"
"Braid, but I'm not performing."
"Just producing."
"Yeah, and curtain was delayed. Something fell." Pen rolled her eyes. "So you ahve another couple minutes to spaz out."
"Great."
Pen grinned, and kept walking. Eleanor growled as she heard Pen's lilting voice warning everyone else of her mood. She was going to need to eat later... She stalked out on stage and looked around, noting the section of the set that had fallen.
"El!"
Pen clicked onstage. "Why are you wearing that?"
"Thought I'd change the show up."
"Go change."
"No."
Pen grabbed her arm and dragged El back to the changing room, basically forcing her into the light blue gown she should have been wearing. "Thank you. Now, I have to go check on the set."
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Post by flamindragon13 on May 23, 2007 16:50:06 GMT -5
Laila chuckled to herself as she watched the production go wrong already. Something was wrong with the set and a women had come on stage to say that the production would be starting late. She leaned back into her seat, but was bored almost instantly. She flipped threw her program for a little while then threw it on the empty seat next to her. That seat was always empty now. Ever since her old lover had left her. She ignored the rush of memories that came to her and stood up. She wasn't leaving, but she didn't want to be alone again. Laila walked intot eh main part of the theater and looked around. Maybe she could find someone to talk to, and maybe feed off of.
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Post by Ankoku on May 23, 2007 17:55:52 GMT -5
Atraya stopped, looked around, and sighed. She saw only trees.
"Damn it, wrong direction." she pouted, then put her hands on her hips to think. "Aw! Screw it!" she went to kick a stone, but slipped and landed on her butt. "CRAP!" she frowned and rubbed her back were she was injured the most. "This is so not my day."
Atraya jumped up, paused, then jumped toward a near by tree, and climbed it.
"And I'm still speaking to myself." Atraya sighed. 'I guess, I still want to believe that you're here.'
"Damn it!" Atraya growled, and kicked the tree, leaving a noticeable dent if you cared to look. "Stupid suicidal vampire."
Atraya blinked, looked around, and blinked again.
"Whoops, lost myself there." She laughed nervously, and while in her odd laugh, slipped off the tree branch, and fell on her back. "Damn it. This 'Day I became a Vampire Day' sucks."
Standing back up, and wiping the dirt off the back of her jeans and sweatshirt, broke into a run, under the cover of the trees.
'I am SO gonna go take my anger out on some random person. Preferably some guy who thinks hes just soooooooo amazing.' She laughed dryly. 'Just like you huh? You damn traitor of friend.'
Closing her eyes she repeated the words that she had lived by for over a century now, in her mind. 'Live in the present, not in the past. Live in the present, not in the-'. Breathing deeply, she continued to run through the trees at almost an inhuman pace, calming herself in the process.
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Post by Aira Eresse on May 23, 2007 22:50:21 GMT -5
Amelia caught Atraya's thoughts as clearly as if the other girl had spoken them in her ear. Dameon, however, was unaware. He was too young, and not nearly as powerful.
Amelia sighed as Dameon led them into Central Park. She felt the presence of the other vampire getting steadily closer, moving at an ungodly speed. And then it stopped. A few steps father and she could make out the silhouette of a young girl up a head.
She immediately sensed Dameon light up at the sight of her. Idiot... she thought to herself as he raced over.
"Well hello darling," he said, sidling up next to Atraya. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go wandering about Central Park at night? Lucky I'm here babe, wouldn't want you getting hurt. You're far too pretty."
"I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself." the girl said with a smirk.
Amelia caught up with them. "Dameon you imbecile. Can't you tell another vampire when you see one? I could sense her a good five minutes ago." Like most vampires in Manhattan, Amelia knew the proper etiquette amongst her kind. She turned to Atraya and smiled. "I'm Amelia, this is my idiot friend Dameon. Sorry about him. He's not very old and his creator was still a fledgling. And he's stupid. I guess it's over all a bad combination, huh?"
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Post by Ankoku on May 24, 2007 16:19:45 GMT -5
Atraya raised her eyebrow at the pair. They were definitely an odd couple.
Amelia had the air of an elder vampire with much wisdom, and just as Amelia had said, Dameon had the air of a newborn kitten. Lost and hopeless into the world he was thrown into.
She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"So," she smiled broadly, rocking back and forth on her heels, hands clasped behind her. "Dameon cant sense other vampires?"
Dameon gave out a noise that would most likely resemble a small dog growling.
"Yeah, not yet at least." Amelia answered.
"Aw," Atraya turned to Dameon, who was glaring at her with as much ferocity as he could muster. "Don't worry! i can sense them in a crowd, but cant pick out the individual. I can tell I'm not as old as Amelia, but-" Atraya set her features to one of a determined nature, puffed out her chest, and announced: "-I am completely confident in my abilities to be able to learn that as soon as possible!" she finish, placing a fist over the area where her heart was. Or used to be.
'So many things have changed...' 'Yes. Its like a whole other world.'
Atraya jumped, stumbled backward, and put her arms out in a X in front of her.
Dameon looked completely confused, while Amelia looked as if she had gotten this reaction many times before.
"Hehehehe, sorry." Atraya mumbled, putting her arms down. "I don't have much contact with other vampires, so I'm not used to talking like that."
Now Dameon looked at her like she was completely insane.
"I feel stupid for asking this but..." she laughed nervously, and glanced back and forth between the pair. "Could you tell me where I am?"
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