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Post by Leif Adamson on Jul 7, 2016 22:12:23 GMT
She remembered when her brother decided to go into the military. He was so proud of himself, standing there holding up copies of the papers he had signed, grinning from ear to ear. When he went off to boot camp, he promised to only be a letter way, and he maintained that promise for the nine weeks he was gone, writing to her as often as he could and telling her all about how miserable it was. That only continued when he was deployed. The first time she went more than two weeks without hearing from him, a knock had come at the door.
Long, gnarled fingers rose to delicately caress the metal of his dog tags around her neck, feeling the indents that printed his name. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she continue to stare out across the abandoned complex, imagining the people that must have danced the obstacle courses over and over again. A lone rope still swung in the winter breeze, frayed and long since miscolored by exposure.
Leif had come here armed, her handgun holstered on her thigh and rifle resting beside her. Multiple knives decorated her arms and legs. She had plans to purchase another handgun, but she had been busy with Bernd and Blue. They were both so kind to take her in, but their kindness did nothing to help her. They couldn't comfort her. They couldn't make her feel any better about losing her beauty, about losing the thick and luxurious brunette hair or flawless pale skin. They couldn't make her feel any better about what had become her nightly dinner, no matter what they said.
She shuddered, then stood with enough force to make her brittle bones shudder. Her teeth were meshed tightly together as she peered through the almost total darkness as clouds rolled across the moon. The smell of snow was on the air, a promise for a storm to come later, and she wasn't entirely certain she was ready. In one swift motion, she managed to draw her handgun and aim it perfectly at the movement she noticed just on the other side of the broken fenced.
"Who is there?" she called out, voice trembling ever so slightly as she attempted to adjust to her new vocal chords. Bernd had told her about the Masquerade, about how she could never allow a human to see her emerald skin, but she had yet to learn how to hide herself from their wandering eyes. Her ears, oversized on either side of her head, were significantly more sensitive than they had ever been before, and yet she still couldn't hear the stranger's footsteps. It shot her nerves. "Show yourself!"
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Post by Eto on Jul 12, 2016 19:16:08 GMT
"Smart." A voice echoed out around the training course, it's dialects so mixed in both tone and pitch that it could have come from almost anywhere. "Trained, perceptive, and instinctive." He'd thought he'd be alone and undisturbed while he explored the old military complex. Instead he'd spotted the strange, heavily armed creature who seemed to simply be wandering aimlessly through the facility.
He'd been searching for a place to store the armory he'd had shipped in to deal with the Eastern Monster issue Nagasaki seemed to be in the middle of. And while the active military installation was a poor choice, a decommissioned base would be great, if he could secure it.
Unfortunately it seemed as if this other creature had gotten there first.
"Unfortunately I have no intention to reveal myself under threat, and you don't know if I have a shot. You shoot, muzzle flare, you hit maybe I go down. Maybe I don't, but I know where you are, and I'll have a shot." The fiery haired mercenary moved after he'd spoken, taking great care to not make a sound, changing his location, altering the path.
If she wanted to fight. She'd get one, but he needed that location, needed a place to stash his gear.
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Post by Leif Adamson on Jul 12, 2016 20:07:47 GMT
Instead of focusing on the strange dialects that confused her, she tried to place his positioning as he spoke. She closed her eyes, only strengthening her senses. She had learned a few tricks, and contemplating those tricks brought a thin lipped smile to her face. Gun flare.
She waited until she could place him, until she could tell where he was. She shifted her unnatural body to one side to get a better shot, moving as silently as the awkward Nosferatu could, and then gathered the shadows around herself. She raised her guns, disappearing into the world around her. Even the gun was hidden, which meant that as she fired, there was no flare.
The sound cracked through the air and, immediately, she dove from her spot, just in case. She kept her gun close, but not close enough to burn, and training kicked it. She hit the ground on her shoulder and rolled behind one of the obstacles, coming to sit with her back against the item, still hidden from view.
The aim was to hit the ground in front of him, an almost playful way of telling him that she knew exactly where he was.
"Considering the... changes I've been through in the last week, I don't doubt you'd be able to take me on head to head. I don't even know who you are, but I have a feeling. Call intuition. But if you're going to kill me, you're wasting my talent... and I won't go down easy. I'd much rather we both drop our guns and come on out. Sound good?"
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Post by Eto on Sept 6, 2016 7:22:26 GMT
The shot exploded directly in front of the Assamite, his body immediately responding. It wasn't any effort to move out of targeting range to stand just a few scant paces from where she had hidden behind the crates that had long been abandoned. "That was rather rude." He commented, standing with his hands on the handles of his prized scimitars. "Considering it would be an effort to kill you, and unfortunately, I'm not exactly allowed to simply commit murder in this city, and by reference, nor are you, however. You've fired, I now have every right to defend myself."
Eto tilted his head, his fiery hair spilling off to one side as his ruby eyes stared at the crate the Nosferatu seemed to be hiding behind. "So this is going to end one of two ways. Either you're going to show yourself. Or I'm going to show you what military training does with two centuries of practice." His voice held the obvious threat. He didn't like being fired at, especially when he was simply conversing, and he DID need to find a place to stash his armory.
"Might I suggest taking option one miss?" He inquired her name curiously.
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Post by Leif Adamson on Sept 10, 2016 2:47:14 GMT
Leif leaned back against the rotting obstacle, listening to every sound her sensitive ears could catch. She could hear him moving, her focus sharp and trained, but she wasn't certain if he was armed. She assumed so, considering the arrogance and cockiness that easily carried his every word. She couldn't help but snicker, a half smile crawling it's way up her face. Her eyes flashed in the darkness.
"Leif," she called back to the stranger. "My name is Leif. And I don't mind coming out and showing myself, but I want an absolute assurance that you won't use my actions to take me down. I'm, ah... I'm good not dying tonight. At least, not dying again."
Murder, he said. Two centuries. There were creatures that harassed the night, but few seemed to exist so blatantly. As she was informed, the Camarilla sect of Kindred followed something called the Masquerade; these laws carried them onward towards complete immersion into Kine society. She didn't expect anyone of her kind - especially somebody referencing said laws with such ease - to show up and be so blatant or obvious. Perhaps she was wrong...
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Post by Eto on Sept 23, 2016 9:27:18 GMT
"Absolute assurance is not going to happen. But you're bright, and not a threat to me. I have better targets to kill. So take your chances with my not killing you if you decide to come out. Or take your chances with me trying too if you don't. This world isn't about negotiation Leif, it's about power, and judging by your choice of cover, I'm going to place my money on you not having even the faintest idea of what power truly is." His tone was just as calm as it had been, not a trace of rage or emotion bleeding into his voice.
"Names Eto by the way. Figured I could be polite and return the kindness of a name." The mercenary then reached into the inside of his cloak, pulling out a vial that he quickly uncorked and swallowed. A surge of energy blossomed out and around him. His glowing ruby eyes almost shining with furious light. "If you wanna chat we'll chat for a bit." He swallowed, a bit, clearing the vitae from his mouth and throat. "Or we can see who will live or die. Or any number of other things. It all begins with your decision. Your choice Leif." He plopped down on one of the crates near her cover slouching down as he rested his chin on his closed fist, staring rather intently at her 'cover'.
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Post by Leif Adamson on Sept 23, 2016 21:40:18 GMT
"What a damn fine situation we've gotten ourselves in, yeah?" The thin-skinned Nosferatu snickered to herself as his unveiled threat began to settle in her mind. Either this man, Eto as he introduced himself, was foolish enough to believe he had achieved some sense of superiority, or he had the qualifications to support his arrogance... In that moment, Leif wasn't entirely certain which was more terrifying, but both amused her greatly. Fingers delicately caressed the chill of the metal, like a lover long lost or forgotten. The bemused expression that gnarled her features only enhanced the grotesque hide; what once may have made her seem all the more beautiful, now twisted her into something hideous.
Releasing the magazine, she let it fall to the dusty ground below, eyes fluttering closed at the familiar hiss and slide, held dear to her heart. Her free fingers rose to grasp at the slightly dented dog tags she wore with pride around her neck. "Look at the mess I've managed now, Big Brother... This one might be a right good 'un..."
Leif placed her useless handgun on the rotting box above her head, already freeing the other firearm from its holster to repeat the process. She had kept her voice to a careful, quiet monotone, hoping to avoid eavesdropping on her rather private conversation. Of course, she had no concern regarding the boisterous laughter that range crystal clear through her head, portraying Neil's almost childlike amusement at her situation. She had managed to get herself here... She knew he'd have no mercy: she could get herself out.
"Alright, Eto," she called out, speaking just a bit louder. "I really do mean no harm, in this case. Both guns are above my head." She raised her hands, palms facing away from her weapons, to show him just how little of a threat she was... even with the blades still hidden away in the fabric of her clothing and the leather of her belt. "You've got me here, yeah? If you're true about your offer to chat, I'd like that a bit."
Her British accent hadn't faded over the years, but the stretching of her vocal chords during Embrace had robbed her of that nearly supernatural clarity: the voice of a siren, they used to say. She winced visibly as she began to gather her gangly legs under herself, trying to maintain a once simple balance and struggling slightly. "After all, you mention power. I'd like to know what you think... of power. D'ya mind?"
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Post by Eto on Sept 24, 2016 0:53:11 GMT
Practiced eyes watched and keen ears listened as the female removed the magazines from both her weapons, setting them above her head. He noted quite clearly that she hadn't cleared the chambers, which gave her two possible shots. His ruby eyes looked toward her with a childlike curiosity. She was disfigured to be sure, but no revulsion touched the mercenaries ruby eyes. Instead he remained right where he sat, his fiery red hair swaying back and forth in the wind.
"Power is all about what you have and what you can do with it." His words held just an edge of his power, each word almost electrified as it left his lips. "Those are military issue firearms." He commented, his ruby gaze never leaving her face. "You're training, though obviously not complete is far greater than that of non-military personal. What is a creature like you, a warrior and soldier doing slinking around in the shadows like a thief or a leper?"
Her movements and the accuracy of her shot had largely given away some of her training, but the lack of egress pointed to a distinctive lack of formal training. "What do you wish to know?" He asked specifically tilting his head to one side, his glowing ruby eyes entirely focused on the female before him.
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Post by Leif Adamson on Sept 24, 2016 5:16:06 GMT
Once she was certain this strange new Kindred smelling faintly of brimstone and Hellfire meant to do her no harm, at least not immediately, Leif turned to face him, keeping both long hands, with the disturbingly thin digits, in the air. She didn't want him thinking she was going for the guns, now right in front of her; she was trying hard to appear as absolutely non-threatening as possible. Tilting her head to one side, she even managed a lip less smile, her teeth perfectly hidden behind the expression. If her eyes could shine as they had before, intrigue would have brightened her face and made her glow.
She took a needless but steadying breath and stepped back, away from the cover she had found, and the silver dog tags bounced against her exposed sternum, their jingling the only noise she made. However, it was not her name etched into the metal, and the way her hand instinctively rose to cup the two and shield them from harm made it nearly impossible to assume it was anybody but a dearly departed dearly beloved.
Leif felt her expression falter altogether the moment he said the word "soldier." Once a master at masking her every feeling and reaction, she found the same tactics didn't work on a face with papery, almost emerald skin, or the too long jaw... Her fingers only tensed around her brother's tags. She gave a single shake of her head.
"I'm still gathering my wits," she countered with charming ease. Even if her beauty had been violently robbed from her, she still managed to cling to her charisma. Beneath the hideous curse of the Nosferatu Clan, Leif was still... just Leif. "I didn't come out here for training... I came for solitude, to refocus my mind."
She didn't mind admitting just how fresh this hell was for her: only a handful of nights under her belt, and she spent so much of her time with her Primogen, Bernd... whatever that silly title meant. Neil's military career had taught her just how important it was to recognize and respect the titles earned by those with rank; she already had his title and name memorized, but so much of the information he had provided her swirled aimlessly around in her noggin, tangled into a mess she hoped to sort out as quickly as she could manage.
"Though, I wouldn't say no to company. I haven't exactly found many people to spend my... time with. It isn't like I don't have plenty of it." Her own bad joke made her chuckle, the dark humor striking her. That thought, that she had eternity to try and find new friends, was nearly hysterical, hilarious. Something that had already seemed so arbitrary and meaningless suddenly meant even less. Time truly had become irrelevant.
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