• The Unforgiven • [1x1] *CLOSED*

/ By DirtyPretty [+Watch]

Replies: 303 / 1 years 19 days 15 hours 30 minutes 33 seconds

Allowed Users

  1. [Allowed] shesmorethanamemory


Valarie or Val as people called her, had been an assassin for hundreds of years. Yes, a Vampire assassin... Only, she hunted her own kind. Valarie, was turned against her own will. The night she was turned, was the night Valarie set her heart on vengeance...






It's been five hundred years since that night. Valarie was 18, she was now 23... In human years at least. She has made herself comfortable in an apartment in her home town of London. She takes jobs when she can from a place called ''The Red Admiral.'' It was a place where mercenaries, and assassins alike came to take bounty jobs. Humans were only allowed in the establishment, but because Valarie could blend in so well, the humans always thought she was one of them.


How ever, there were rumors of a Vampire inside "The Red Admiral." So, the humans decided to make a special call to ______________ their best assassin. They wanted _____________ to track down the Vampire, kill it, and bring them its head. The bounty was 7million pounds... As expected, he accepted. 7million pounds was a ton of money, and he knew he could use it.


_____________ tracked Valarie down, at a local pub called ''Fiona's Tavern." Valarie worked as a bar maid. It was so she could protect her identity, and also the local drunks were easy prey for her. She had no idea there was a bounty on her head.... _____________ was out for blood. He was cold, cruel, and efficient. He was the best shooter around, was good with knives, and has killed quite a few supernatural creatures.... When they meet how ever, __________ is thrown off by Valarie..


Valarie wore a black dress, it had a corset-like top with a soft flowing silk bottom which was about two inches from the floor, along with black flats. Her eyes were always red, because of her blood lust. ______________ ordered a drink, and the two began talking... _____________ slowly began to realize, that Valarie wasn't evil at all, he actually was starting to like her. He began having second thoughts about his job..


Will ___________ be able to complete his job, and get paid? Or, will he give into his desires... Only time would tell whether they would commit the unforgiven... A Vampire and human were forbid to fall in love. If they did fall in love, would it be worth the danger? Or, will it end in a blood bath?



FIRST;; RULES:


1. Please, ask to join, and read EVERY THING. This is a modern RP, so guns and all are allowed.

2. Anime pictures only please.

3. No god modding. If you god mod, I will kick you right away.

4. Semi-lit posts. All I ask for is one-two GOOD paragraphs for each post.

5. No cybering, if you have that feeling... Go some where off of ES.

6. Romance, violence and things of that nature are a must... But, just no insta-love, and NO ONE LINERS.

7. After you've read this, PM me with the title "The Unforgiven." Along with a skelly.

SKELLY;;


:Name:
:Age:
:Sex:
:Weapons/Skills:
:Personality:
:Short Bio:

CHARACTERS;;


Valarie.


:Name: Valarie 'Val' DuVant

:Age: 23 [in human years]

:Sex: Female.

:Weapons/Skills: Valarie is skilled with daggers, and a bit of magic [telepathy, and telekinesis]. She also has a revolver which she always has holstered in her garter on her right thigh.

:Personality: Quiet, cold, and at times cruel. Deep down though, Valarie is a sweet, loving, kind person... She constantly struggles with her human soul and Vampiric desires.

:Short Bio: Valarie was human.. At one point. Her mother, was a human turned Vampire. A Vampire with a human soul... Her father, was an elder pure blood Vampire. Valarie's human side was dominant, and the only way her Vampiric side would be unleashed would be if she drank from an elder... When Valarie was 18 in human years, her father murdered her mother before her eyes, and turned Valarie into what she is today... Since that day, Valarie has vowed to seek revenge.


Mason.


:Name: Mason Crator

:Age: 21

:Sex: Male

:Weapons/Skills: He is skilled in using guns as well as knifes, but he prefers knife for a personal touch.

:Personality: He is full of surprises. He's careful and cruel, detached from the 'opposite' species as he calls them.

:Short Bio: There is really no way of describing him, his past is carefully dripped in blood and silvery metal. He fights for an unknown cause that drives him.

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Roleplay Responses

In a steady rhythm, hot water streams down his shoulders and back. With one hand placed on the shower wall in front of him and the other raking water out of his eyes he is finally able to rest. His sore tense muscles twitch; as though they’ve never expected a hot shower in a few months. Mason missed the high-quality plumbing of his own apartment, the too clean smelling bar of soap. Letting out a heavy sigh, he is oblivious to the chaos going on downstairs. Squirting a quarter sized drop of shampoo onto his right hand he lets his mind wander, his guard dropping. Scrubbing his scalp then his body he makes sure to chase away any dried blood or sweat. Mason’s shower lasts longer than he had expected it to, but as he stepped out of the shower he felt more like himself. Taking the white and blue towel that he’d found, he wraps it around his waist and leans his right hip against the sink counter. In the mirror, he studies himself closely. The scar splitting his lips an ugly reminder of his first mistake, a mistake he vowed never to make again. Absently he traces the scar with his palm, also checking his jawline for patches of beard. Quickly he makes the judgement call: he could pull off a beard, no matter how patchy it tended to be.

Dressing in a lazy haze, he couldn’t bring himself to hurry. For the first time in his career hunting the supernatural he isn’t itching for his next contract. Nor is his in a rush to leave a city and go back to his empty apartment in Chicago. Somehow his black and white themed home felt too empty, too impersonal and professional. Gathering his pile of dirty clothes, he leaves the bathroom. A crash downstairs makes his muscles tighten instantly, he turns dropping his clothes at the top of the stairs. Half way down he can get the entire picture of what he’d missed. Broken glass littered the room, the bookshelf against the far-left wall had the middle shelf tilted dramatically, the books it once held thrown onto the floor. Marilyn’s retreating figure draws his attention for a second before he focuses on a disgruntled looking Val. Her blonde hair as a mess and her side was once again dripping blood. Her dark red eyes were focused somewhere far away, too far away to be anywhere near the little London house. Walking down the rest of the stairs he greets her. Watching as she turned her attention to him. At the moment Mason can truly see how small she was compared to him. The black dress hugged her curves and still was one of his favorite outfits of hers.

“What happened here?” He asks her slowly entering the room more. Carefully he steps over glass and pieces of couch stuffing. Glancing around he looks for anyone else that might linger, any attacker hidden behind a doorway. Marilyn returning with a first aid kit, some blood and cleaning supplies, made him jump. Without saying a word and in an angry huff she nearly shoves a broom and dust pan into his empty hands. Taking the hint that whatever had happened here was over, he starts in a corner, sweeping glass, wood splinters, and couch stuffing into the dust pan. Marilyn knelt beside Val, starting to tend to her wound as the bag of blood sat on Val’s lap. Keeping his head down and his eyebrows knit together he waits for answers. When no one tried to explain what had happened he tried to press an answer out of Marilyn.

“So…What’d I miss?” He asks the still air, directing the question more at Marilyn though anyone could answer. Moving to where her back is facing away from him Marilyn avoids his question. Val didn’t appear any more willing to tell him what happened than Marilyn. Sighing deeply, he ignores the pair, sweeping glass into the dust pan before turning and dumping it into a nearby trash can. A sharp chime breaks the silence causing him to tense slightly.

“The plane is ready.” Marilyn states, something in her tone made Mason narrow his eyes. Turning his dark gaze on her questioningly. Marilyn’s tone was relieved, she wanted her own space back especially when her things started to get broken. Making his way up the stairs he starts to plan to pack his duffle bag. Once inside of the bedroom he takes his time in folding his jeans and shirts, placing them neatly in the bottom of his back. Taking his time, he enjoys the mundane task of packing his bag, letting his mind plan escape routes and play through situations in his mind. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to trust the werewolf completely, not that he thought Marilyn would betray Val he couldn’t bring himself to trust her completely.
  Mason Crator / shesmorethanamemory / 71d 10h 31m 44s
[center [font "candara" Valarie was awake before Marilyn and Mason. Her human soul couldn't get over all of the events that happened within the past week... Marilyn's house seemed to have a cold energy about it, maybe it was just Valarie feeling numb.. Who knows. The halfling knew that once she was in Chicago that would be Mason's territory. Valarie looked at the time.. It was nearly 7AM. Valarie stood in the middle of the living room staring at the wall for a few moments.. Soon the room warped... In her mind she was standing in the middle of Fiona's Pub...She walked around a bit before she saw a man standing in the back of the crowd..]]

[center [font "candara" The poison they used on Valarie when they tortured her was causing her to hallucinate, badly. Her head felt hot, her hands were sweaty, and she was extremely paranoid. She reached out her hand, and touched the strange man's shoulder. In reality she looked like a loon walking around Marilyn's living room with a lost look on her face. The man turned to look at her, and it was Ivan.. Marilyn heard a loud scream, a few crashes, then Valarie cursing in Russian.]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie was hallucinating about a fight scene with Ivan. Ivan was like a father to her... How could he betray her in such a way? Victor, her father was dead... Now, the only bad guys they needed to worry about were the ones in Chicago.. And apparently the one in Valarie's head as well. When Marilyn ran down stairs, she saw glass every where.. Her TV was in pieces on the floor, and Valarie was stabbing her couch with a piece of shattered glass. The wolf-girl was not happy. She didn't know what was going on with Valarie, but this was not like her at all.]]

[center [+red "Valarie DuVant! What the fuck is wrong with you?"]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn's voice snapped Valarie out of whatever bad trip she was on. She shook her head, and the room went back to normal in Valarie's eyes. Her eyes went wide as she saw the couch, she peeked over the couch and saw the rest of the mess she made.. She had no idea what happened. Valarie stood up, only to be tackled by Marilyn. The once tidy living room now looked like Gladiators fought in it. Valarie landed on her left side in a pile of glass causing her to let out a loud hiss of pain. Marilyn grabbed Valarie by her blonde hair, growled loudly then let Valarie go. Marilyn was just worried about how she was going to clean up all of the glass..]]

[center [+red "If you do that again, I'll fucking put your lights out. I don't know what those fucks did to you, but we need to fix this.. NOW."]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn disappeared into the kitchen. Valarie stood up once again, and felt blood begin to drip from her left side. A piece of glass made its way under Valarie's skin. Who knew that a fight against yourself could do so much damage. Marilyn came back with a broom, trash bags, dust pan, and other cleaning supplies. Valarie had no idea what happened. Marilyn disappeared again and left Valarie to clean up her mess. As Valarie began cleaning, bits and pieces came back from her hallucination.]]

[center [i What is wrong with me?]]

[center [font "candara" In reality, nothing was wrong with Valarie really.. Just a halfling gone slightly mad due to poison. Valarie sat down on the torn up couch after she finished cleaning up. The shower was still on, thank god Mason didn't see any of that. Valarie slowly began picking pieces of glass out of her left side. Marilyn came back with a shot of Vodka, blood, a first aid kit, and other various supplies. Mason would probably need patching up too, so she grabbed plenty of gauze as well. Valarie sat back and let Marilyn help her. Her red eyes seemed to be empty. Marilyn shook her head as she put the last gauze wrap on Valarie's side.]]

[center [+red "I'm so happy you and Mason are leaving. Don't get me wrong, I love having my place smashed up.. But, I'd rather live with nice things and not broken nice things."]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn walked away and Valarie downed the shot of Vodka Marilyn left for her. In this world, every one needed a friend like Marilyn. For a werewolf she wasn't that bad. Werewolves usually loathe halflings. They consider half fae to be useless. If they are not pure blood fae, they aren't any thing. Valarie sat back on the couch and arched an eyebrow as Marilyn laid out some papers on the table for her to look at. It was about where they would be boarding a plane.]]

[center [+red "Okay, so with all of the heat on you guys, I decided to hire a private pilot. His name is Billy. You'll remember him, believe me. Any who. You have two hours to get ready, so pack your shit, and let's get moving."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie was sipping on the blood Marilyn laid out for her. Marilyn smiled at Valarie before stating she was going to go get prettied up.. Billy. Valarie smirked a bit. Billy was Valarie's first boyfriend. When she was 17 in human years, she met Billy. They fell in love, but he ran once her darker side came out. She stood up, walked upstairs, then went into the room her and Mason slept in last night. Valarie tossed on her black dress, black flats, and began packing the rest of her things. She didn't know if she really was ready to move onto Chicago with Mason.. She wasn't sure of any thing any more. Survival was the first thing on her mind though.. After all, two killers together can only bring trouble, right?]]

[center [b Mean while in an abandoned boat yard 5 miles from London..]]

[center [font "comic sans" A man was tied up to a chair. He had green eyes, freckles, ginger hair, and was scrawny. This.. Is Billy. Billy had been a pilot for over ten years and when he heard Valarie needed his help, he was glad to extend a hand out to her. Billy had blood gushing from his face, there were small cuts on his abdomen and chest as well. The boat yard was creepy enough, now paranormal creatures were torturing a human on it. The Vampires that were after Valarie now were hiring demons to do their dirty work. Four demons stood in a circle as Billy spat blood out at them.]]

[center [+blue "I'l never tell you mother fuckers ANY THING about my Valarie!!"]]

[center [font "comic sans" The three demons laughed as the fourth one punched Billy in the head. The other three stopped laughing when the fourth glared at them. The fourth looked at the demon on his right and smirked. Billy wasn't giving any information on Valarie. This gave the demons the idea that seeing Billy dead would drive Valarie over the edge... Orders were orders though. Maldavo was going to be the pilot, posing as Billy. Maldavo was a shape shifter demon as well as the four hitmen he hired. A black SUV then pulled into the boat yard. The four demons went wide eyed. Maldavo was here to finish the job himself. Maldavo was a tan, tall, Italian man. He had on black sunglasses, a black leather jacket with some dark jeans. Maldavo walked out of the SUV and smiled.]]

[center [i "This place is beautiful.."]]

[center [font "comic sans" Billy screamed as Maldavo walked over, gripped under his chin got close, then began sucking Billy's soul out. The only way a shape shifter could mimic some one's look was to suck their soul dry, so their soul could absorb it. Billy began to turn grey, as well as his hair.. Maldavo's eyes glowed red-orange as a small line of blue dust came from Billy's mouth and into his. Once the process was done, Maldavo stood up... He now looked like Billy.]]

[center [+blue "W..What now boss?"]]

[center [font "comic sans" Maldavo looked at the plane which was in an open field next to the boat yard. The plane would seat Valarie, Mason, and the pilot along with room for luggage and what not. Maldavo looked at himself in the car mirror of the SUV and nodded. He was satisfied now and the plan could start. He would post as the pilot, crash the plane, and hope to the gods that Valarie and Mason die.. If the prophecy is true, it spells trouble for all beings good and bad alike. Maldavo sent Marilyn a text message;;]]

[center [b "Hey, the plane is all fueled up and ready to go whenever you are."]]

[center [font "comic sans" Maldavo leaned against the plane, lit up a cigarette then sighed as white smoke escaped his lips slowly. If Valarie wanted a war, then he would bring her a war. Ivan hired Maldavo in order to shake up Valarie.. Maldavo had other plans though... Will his plan help crash the party? Only time would tell..]]
Her featherlike lashes kiss her cheek as she finally drifts away to sleep. Mason watches her, slowly stretching out beside her and letting his tense muscles start to relax. Had it really been a few weeks? Stifling another yawn he silently counts the days. She was right, he had been a few weeks since the beginning of everything. Gently he lays his head next to her. Watching her, he notices the way her eyes fluttered under her lids; the curve of her red lips twitched down slightly. He wanted to take a picture of her in the moment, the perfect embodiment of life and death; an angel of seduction. Settling deeper into the plush comforter he feels exhaustion start to pull harder at him. Tucking his right arm under his head he gives her as much as she would ever need. He quickly drifts to unconsciousness; the best type of sleep is the unexpected.

[i Deep within the wet forest a young boy with dark hair spins in a circle. The forest is wet from the fog trailing in from the ocean, the mist clinging to the leaves and falling to the ground in fat droplets. Lost and confused the child sinks to the ground. Hot tears stream down his cheeks as he cries for his mother. All around him are the sounds of the forest, a lazy breeze ruffling the trees and unseen animals crunching twigs under their feet. Far into the distance a doe ushers her fawn forward and away from the child, always keeping her large ears swiveling around; listening. Taking a filthy handful of leaves, the boy cries in fear and frustration, throwing the handful as hard as he can only to watch them stick to a nearby tree trunk. Over him the moon sinks lower in the early morning sky and the sun starts to rise opposite the moon. Everything is cast in a foggy grey light. Lifting her head suddenly, the doe stops her nose twitching and her ears pointed forward. Letting out a soft noise, she calls to her fawn as they bound away deeper into the brush. Through blurry eyes, the boy looks around. He sees figure only a little taller than he is. His voice cracks as he calls out for his mother, only to see the pale face of a girl. Her dark hair falls down her back in waves curling tightly in the middle of her back. Her dress barely reaches the top of her ankles as she kneels to look at him. Her dark brown eyes meet the boy’s. ]

[i “Are you okay?” She inquires, her face inches from his. Her breath is sweet against the boy’s face. Looking down and wiping a tear from his cheek he nods. The boy isn’t hurt, just scared, and lost. Reaching out to him the girl offers him her hand, offers to pull him up. Dusting himself off the boy stands, ignoring the girl’s hand. Tilting her head to the side a little, she watches this curious little creature before her. Standing with his hands tucked in his jeans, his heart hammering in his chest, and with quiet tears dripping off his chin he looked a little braver. The girl turns her back on the boy, knowing he will follow, her dress makes a wide umbrella as she starts away from him and back toward the way she’d come. He follows her clumsily as the girl seemingly glides over the wet breathing forest. She leads him farther into the forest, around them the wildlife flee from her pale figure. The arrive at fallen and broken shack some hunter had forgotten. Stepping forward boldly, the girl pushes he door in slightly, the one broken hinge refusing to move the other having been snapped years ago, she holds the door open for him. She looks back at him, gesturing with one hand for him to sneak inside the slowly caving home. Once inside it is apparent that the girl had been living here for some time. The girl had made a blanket out of old clothes that she draped over a mattress-less metal bed frame. She had drawings placed around the room, carved on the backs of bark pieces. Several different colored wildflowers litter the room. In the farthest corner is a dark stain spanning most of the floor and up the wall. Flies buzzed around the salty smelling stain and the grey light made the stain glitter like wet blood. ]

[i Climbing into the small room behind him, the girl looks around almost sadly. She knows this is not place for a child to grow up, but this is all she has. Moving to her bed, she pulls herself up and sits. She watches the scared boy stand in the center of her home and look around. She looks down at her hands and twists her fingers together while waiting for him to say something, anything. Picking a wall to lean against he draws his knees up to his chest. She watches him cry, rocking himself gently back and forth. ]

Waking suddenly yet quietly, Mason blinks a few times at the unfamiliar ceiling. Softly he moves his stiff body, a sharp pain racing from his lower back to the nape of his next stills him instantly. He felt like shit, the last few weeks had taken their toll on his mortal body. He needs more than a night’s sleep. Looking around sleepily, he tries to remember yesterday’s events, chasing away sleep’s fog with a tingling right hand. He stifles a yawn before rolling over and off the side of the bed. Managing to catch himself, he pushes himself up off of the ground and stands. Running a hand through his hair and moving away from the bed toward the bathroom. Once inside he stares at the dark circles under his eyes and the five o’clock shadow strengthening his jawline. He runs some cold water in his hands and splashes it on his face to chase away more sleep from his mind. He then lifts the lid to the toilet, forgetting to shut the door he takes a piss. Downstairs he can hear Marilyn moving around, prompting him to shut the door a little bit before moving closer to the shower. He turns the hot water on before venturing back into the bedroom. He fumbles with his duffle bag, looking for the cleanest pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He finds the latter at the very bottom. Once having a jumbled pile of clothes he makes his way back to the bathroom to indulge in a hot shower.
  Mason Crator / shesmorethanamemory / 139d 7h 35m 14s
[center [font "candara" Every thing was spinning even when she was laying still. The grey tank top Marilyn had given her had a few drops of Valarie's blood on it. Valarie really didn't care, and at this point she was pretty sure Marilyn had bigger things to worry about.The blood was cold but it felt good to feed. Her red eyes were returning to their normal ice blue color. She reached up gently, then let out a loud sigh of relief as she pulled herself away from the blood bag which was empty now.. Mason saved her, not just once... Valarie couldn't help but laugh a little bit at this point.]]

[center [#d00171 "Who would have thought... A few weeks ago I met you, half way expecting to get killed, and now-"]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn was asleep in her bed, her music was off, and she was on alert for some reason. Some thing was off about the whole situation.. How did Valarie even survive an attack like that? Valarie placed her left hand on Mason's knee as she gazed into his eyes. He was a human... She was only half Vampire. If she loses her soul though, the Vampire side will dominate her and she will fall into darkness. She smiled a bit before she leaned back against the head board. The pink walls reminded Valarie of cotton candy. She bit her bottom lip. Her brain really hadn't soaked all of the events in just yet... She never thought she would get rid of Victor, yet alone fall in love with Mason... A Human.]]

[center [#d00171 "All in all.. Out of this shitty ass situation, you and Marilyn are the only two good things in it. You are the reason I am alive. You chose to fight with me and not against me... I'm not sure why you did it, Mason, but I truly am thankful. You could have killed me the first night we met, and vice versa.. But, some how, both of us knew we would be stronger if we worked together..I'm glad I met you Mason Crator... You really are an angel.."]]

[center [font "candara" The Autumn breeze made the branches on the trees tap against the bed room a bit. The noise calmed Valarie, she needed sleep and Mason did too. She let out a small yawn, then felt her eyes get heavy and eventually close. Her wounds would be healed by morning and by then she would be ready to go to Chicago and get the hell away from London.. It was ashame.. London was all she knew. She was born here, raised here.. She knew London like the back of her hand... It's funny how fate works some times.. We all think we have a big plan, then BAM.. A twist in the road has you going down a path that's either darker than the pits of hell, or it leads you to your own heaven on Earth.. Valarie wasn't sure which path she wanted to even go on at this point.. Wherever she went though, she hoped Mason would be by her side.. She cared for him, and saw him as a protector.. She only hoped Chicago would actually hold some peace for them.]]
Quietly, Mason watches the girls. His right arm lays across the back of the pale tan couch. The room around them is warmly decorated and the short wolfgirl before him is dressed comfortably. Val and Marilyn discuss the events of the day and Mason listens to them talk. His shoulders throb slightly from not working out and his legs feel heavier than normal. Turning his head to the side he stifles a yawn. His left hand reaches for the shot of whiskey to his left. Tilting his head back, he slams the shot back and then gently replaces the shot glass next to him on the end table. He swallows after a moment and then returns his attention to the girls talking. Licking his lips, he finds that he has a strong urge to drink until he couldn’t stand. The urge hasn’t possessed him in such a long time that he almost forgot what it felt like.

His eyes match the girl’s silver-blue eyes. The wolf inside of the girl challenged him and he met the challenge with a calm stone gaze. Eventually the girl left the room, a door slamming shut behind her. Looking over at Val, he watches her. She still looked like hell, they both did, but she looked worse. Her white blond hair was pink from the blood soaking into her hair, her cuts were healing slowly and the blood was drying on her skin. He leans his head back against the couch as she stands. Marilyn calls her from another room and she goes to her. Mason’s eyes shift to the left, watching her leave. Shamelessly, he studies the curve of her hips and then further up her back.

His attention turns toward the T.V. He watches the colors flash and the two brothers climb into the ’67 Impala once again. He looks over as Marilyn returns to the living room. She picks up her class and takes a long drink of her gin. It’s awkward between them. She informs him that Valarie wants to talk to him and he nods. She starts on a speech, he knows the speech well. Thankfully she cuts herself off, the water stops upstairs. She informs him of the first aid kit in the drawer next to the bed. For a second, he wondered what else would be in the drawer.

“Thank you.” He then stands slowly, stiffly. He moves toward his duffle bag before starting toward the stairs. A dull thud sounds from upstairs, making him look toward the ceiling. He calls her name as he starts toward the stairs. When she calls out for him he runs up the stairs. He tosses his duffle bag to the right as he finally reaches the second floor. He runs to the guest bedroom throwing open the door and finding her on the floor bleeding from her mouth. Kneeling by her side he calls her name.

“Valarie!” He cups her face in her hands. Bleeding internally is the usual cause for bleeding from the mouth. He wipes the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Her face is contorted into pain. He stokes her hair softly as he soothes her. He knows that she won’t die from this, just it’s extremely painful.

“Tell me, what do you need?” He murmurs to her, gently he strokes her cheek and tries to calm her. He knew what she needed. She needed human blood. It would take a lot to completely heal her. Standing he pulls his duster off his shoulders, he lays it over the covers of the bed, mainly toward the headboard. He needs to prop her head up for her to drink without choking. Turning around he steps over her before kneeling to pick her up. Carefully he lays her on the bed, using the pillows to prop her head up and make her so much more comfortable. He then promises to return quickly.

Heading downstairs, he makes his way to the refrigerator. Once there he grabs a few blood bags, passing quickly through the living room again. He half waves to Marilyn, who gives him a questioning look as he trots back up the stairs. He goes to her, sitting on the edge of the bed, and carefully cutting open the first bag. The crimson liquid quickly starts toward the split. He lowers the bag toward her mouth, holding it as he waits for her to drink. He makes sure the plastic is open so the liquid could flow out. Normally her teeth would create the perfect holes for the liquid, but his knife creates perfectly split edges, these edges overlap and stop the liquid from flowing freely.

“Drink, I know it’s not what you need, but it’ll heal you enough for you to hunt for yourself.” He murmurs watching her. Her red eyes with the blood tears dripping off her cheeks surprised him. They conveyed pain and a hint of fear. His index finger would rest against her lip as she drank.
  shesmorethanamemory / 231d 13h 33m 53s
[center [font "candara" Valarie watched as Mason hopped out of the window.They would need to climb down two sets of steps on the fire escape, then after that the hunters became the hunted. She took one last drag of the cigarette she had lit, tossed it, then lit another one. She literally had nothing. Her weapons, blood bags, and her magic spell books were all taken. Ivan wasn't among the bodies she watched Mason mow down. She bit her lip. The city of London seemed to echo through the window. Valarie wasn't sure what to do.]]

[center [i Chicago?]]

[center [font "candara" The sun made her hair look almost pink because of the blood that was still in it. Her cuts were slowly but surely closing. Being half Vampire only gave her half of the healing abilities they possess. At a time like this, she honestly would not mind being half Werewolf. They heal a lot faster, and don't depend on blood either. She looked at Mason's hand, her red eyes were full of tears when she gazed up at him. She wanted to stay in London, and kill every last Vampire that betrayed her... But, her purpose here was done. Her father, Victor was dead. She ashed her cigarette, then walked around the room. These Vampires had to have been carrying some kind of weapons. She found an iron dagger, and a Colt revolver. The revolver bullets were among the ashes. She stopped once she saw some thing shimmering in the light. She bent down, picked up the pendant then let out a loud growl.]]

[center [#d00171 "You know, America can't be that bad right? I mean, it's gotta be better than running around the streets of jolly old London."]]

[center [font "candara" After grabbing a few more things she grabbed Mason's hand. Her eyes adjusted to the sun, and her skin felt warm. The sun also helped with the healing process. Her body was energized by the Sun some what. She knew that they would need to use the back alley ways of London to travel. Fiona's Pub was a beacon right now. The Vampires wanted Valarie for their own sick and twisted experiments.. Mean while, Mason... After they made their way down the fire escape, she watched as a family walked by the alley way they were standing in. Chicago... She looked down at the cold concrete that was under her feet. Blood stains were all over her pale skin, jeans, shirt, and her hair looked like she dyed it with a really bad dye.]]

[center [#d00171 "Ivan wasn't in there... I'd stay here and hunt him down, but what good would that really do? I mean shit. We spent all of this time getting rid of those monsters... If I kill him, I'm no better than them.]]

[center [font "candara" She felt buzzing inside of her right back pocket. Among the things she snagged, Victor's phone was one of them. She dd this because she knew his contacts would be looking for his killer. Some one texted the phone.. It was Kai. Kai was royally pissed off. Valarie read the text, then quickly closed the phone. It said that he would stop at nothing to find who dd this to his master. Valarie looked at Mason, then walked over to him and held his warm hand in hers. His skin was like fire to her. A welcoming, chaotic fire. It reminded her of herself a little bit. She placed her free hand over his heart. She knew that this wasn't easy for him either... But out of all of this chaos, some how she managed to completely fall in love with Mason.]]

[center [#d00171 "I don't care who comes after us. Truthfully, the thought of watching you leave tears me a part inside..."]]

[center [font "candara" She couldn't help herself at this point. They had been through enough. She leaned up, placed her lips on his and gave him a passionate kiss. She pressed herself against him and held onto the kiss for a moment. She had her arms wrapped around his neck. Her smirk was playful, and lustful at the same time. A part of her wanted him to take her right there in the alley, against the cold brick walls... Her mind went wild with different scenarios of them, together in the alley way. She gently pulled away from his lips, then she backed away from him a little. She lit up another cigarette, then she offered him one.]]

[center [#d00171 "We should stay here for one more night. I know some where safe we could stay.. For one night only though, then tomorrow we can go ahead to America. There's this girl named Marilyn, she's a Werewolf. She's helped me in the past..]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie reached in her pocket for Victor's phone. She knew that she would have less than a minute to call Marilyn and tell her what is going on. Marilyn was a Werewolf yes but she was also loyal. Marilyn picked up, then told Valarie to come there now. Valarie hung up, then threw the phone. One she heard it smash against the tires of a car passing by, she took a drag of her cigarette then let white smoke escape her lips slowly. She knew Mason would go with her, especially since they would be able to be alone at Marilyn's.]]

[center [#d00171 "She gave me the okay. By the way, she is going to give us our own room.... There's a bus stop two blocks from here, we can hop onto the bus then once we get to Manchester we get off. She lives in a red house literally three blocks from the bus stop there."]]


[center [font "candara" Valarie smirked as she walked by Mason. She walked out of the alley knowing Mason wouldn't be too far behind... Once they were at Marilyn's they would be able to prepare, and Valarie would be able to get out of her bloodied clothes..]]

[center [+blue ~ A FEW HOURS LATER ~]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie and Mason arrived at Marilyn's a little after dark. It was now 9PM. Manchester, England really wasn't the place to be caught in the dark especially now that the duo were fugitives in the Supernatural world. Marilyn was pacing back and forth as Valarie explained to her what was going on. She explained how Mason was supposed to kill her, instead he wound up helping her and now they were in a shit load of Supernatural deep shit. Marilyn was five foot one, had black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. She was wearing pajama shorts, a black tank top and black ankle socks.]]

[center [+red "So, you're telling me.. He's a human, helping you.. H-How does that work in our world Val?"]]

[center [font "candara" The wolfgirl wasn't happy about any of this, but she cared for Valarie and trusted her judgement. The red house was two floors, the lower floor had one bedroom, a living room, dining room and kitchen. One the second floor were two more bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also a basement but that was used for storage and what not. The couch Mason and Valarie were on was leather. The coffee table had a glass of blood on it for Valarie and a shot for Mason. Valarie downed the first cup of blood. Marilyn stopped pacing, then stood in front of the two with her arms crossed. Behind her was an entertainment stand with a 40" Samsung Smart Tv on it. The show 'Supernatural' was playing on the TV. Oh, the irony.]]

[center [#d00171 "Can we please talk about this later?"]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn scoffed, typical Valarie. Always avoiding reality. The wolfgirl stared Mason down. Her silver eyes said it all. If any one fucked up any thing in her home, blood would be spilled. She walked away in a huff, Valarie heard her bedroom door slam. She took a deep breath. This was the first time they could actually relax in weeks it felt like. Valarie looked over at Mason. She didn't know what was going through his mind.. All she knew was she needed a shower.]]

[center [+red "Val! Get your ass up stairs now!"]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie nodded, stood up then ran upstairs to Marilyn. With every thing that was going on, she half way expected Marilyn to be in trouble or some thing. Marilyn was standing in the bath room door way with a black towel and some clothes for Valarie. Valarie looked down when Marilyn handed her the towel and clothes. She handed her a gray tank top, sports bra, and gray yoga shorts. Marilyn stopped before Valarie closed the bath room door all the way.]]

[center [+red "Val, I'm glad you're here... Don't get me wrong please. But, you're in love with a human.. It's weird.. I know you want to 'seal the deal' or what ever though.. The bed room at the end of the hall is a guest room now. You can use that.. Just no fucking on my bed."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie laughed as Marilyn trotted downstairs again. For a Werewolf Marilyn was like a sister to Valarie. Valarie slipped out of her clothes, turned on the hot water, started the shower then hopped in. The hot water stung the cuts that were still open. She nearly cried out in pain, but she covered her mouth. Marilyn went into the living room with a glass of Gin she just made. She was curious about Mason Crator. She heard of him, but he never really actually met him face to face. She sat down on the leather chair that was in the living room.]]

[center [+red "Valarie said she wanted to talk to you in ten minutes. She's in the shower, right now. The bed room at the end of the hall way up stairs is where you two can sleep... Just be careful.. With Val. She may seem tough, but that girl-"]]

[center [font "candara" The water in the shower went off. Marilyn took a sip of her Gin then let out a loud sigh. She didn't know what to make of any of this. A human and Vampire in love? Valarie is about to 'seal the deal' probably. Maybe, who knows. Valarie was still a virgin. Valarie got out of the shower, and wanted to pass out from the pain. She wrapped herself up in the black towel Marilyn gave her, grabbed the clothes then headed to the guest room. She opened the door and went a little wide eyed. The walls were white, and there were zebra bed sheets and blankets on the bed. Great, she walked into a fucking zoo. Valarie nodded, closed the door then got dressed.]]

[center [+red "Also she may need help with patching up her wounds. The first aid kit is in the second drawer next to the bed."]]

[center [font "candara" Marilyn grabbed her Gin, walked out of the living room then she went to her room. She sat on her bed reading a book called 'Witches on the Road Tonight.' She wondered what was going to happen... Meanwhile, Valarie was dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed doubled over in pain. The wounds on her stomach weren't healed one bit. She tried to stand, only to collapse on the floor. She felt warm red tears coming down her cheeks. A loud thud could be heard from upstairs. Marilyn hadn't heard it. She had in her noise cancelling head phones. Valarie rolled onto her back as blood built up on the right corner of her lip. She knew she wasn't going to die, but this was the worst pain she had ever felt.]]

[center [#d00171 "Mason! Marilyn! Anybody?!"]]

[center [font "candara" The tone in her voice was a combination of pain and panic. She knew that if she didn't get patched up soon, she would pass out. Her eyes focused on the ceiling as she laid there waiting for one of two people to come. She had a feeling Mason would be up there before Marilyn. Marilyn was a good friend, she also knew the bond Mason and Valarie shared. After all, you cannot stop fate. Marilyn didn't plan to stop the prophecy Lenora saw. She wanted it to happen. Maybe then the war between humans and Supernaturals would end... Maybe this was the start of a new beginning, or the beginning of a very grim end.. Only time would tell.]]
Softly his fingers twitch before he watches the drama unfold before him. Her body, limp, falls to one side, just before she leans to the one side her eyes flutter and her dark red eyes meet his. The chair, old and once sturdy, splinters under the force. Her eyes snap open and she frees herself. This accident, she uses to surprise Victor and get the upper hand on him. Angered, Victor lunges around Valarie and starts toward Mason, pulling his beloved knife he readies to face him. There is an inhuman hiss that passes through Valarie's lips just before the stake, wrapped in barbed wire lodges itself in Victor's back collapsing him. Mason only watches as Valarie claims her spot, copying what he'd done to her only a few moments before.

The corners of Mason's lips twitch toward a smile. He watches with his left hand filled by his beloved knife and his trigger finger wrapped around the pistol's trigger. After the sickening thud of a head rolling onto the floor, Mason holsters his babies. He finds the wall behind him and leans, bracing his left shoulder against the artfully painted wall. He watches her bend and search the rubble for a pack of cigarettes. He pats his breast pocket, making sure his own were still there. He pulls a bent cigarette out before flicking it behind him. She approaches with a two cigarettes in her mouth. She lights both with a match and places one in his mouth, between his lips. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close before she can step back completely. Straightening, he steps toward her. With the edge of his shoe, he flips Victor's head up so one can see his face. He pulls both his knife and pistol again. He lays the large hunting knife down facing northeast and the cream handled pistol with the grim reaper standing on the name "Crator" in beautiful script facing northwest. Gently guiding her out of the way, so her shoes wouldn't be in the picture, he pulls his burner phone out of his pocket and he takes kneels. In the shot, Victor's severed head and body can be seen, Crator's signature laying in the front with the sun casting a shadow across the dead man's face, a man in a long duster trench coat the long skinny shadow of a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

Standing, Mason turns to her and pulls a long drag off of his cigarette before bending and grabbing his bag of goodies. He pulls the duffle bag over his shoulder and then takes her hand softly. The skin, once soft is now rough and rusty with her own blood. Unable to stop himself, he pulls her into his arms. Hugging her against every instinct telling him not to. The first few seconds of the hug are tense as he muscles refuse to accept her cold body against his. Once his natural body heat starts to warm her a little, he relaxes and gently pulls away. He cups her cuts and bleeding cheek in one hand. She was right, they needed to move. Shoving his phone back in its pocket, he listens to it buzz before starting back toward the broken window. The sun was now starting to take its place among the tall historical buildings, casting long shadows across the empty streets.

Climbing out of the window, clearing the glass for her, he offers his hand to help her out. They needed to leave the area before the police showed up. The faster they left the better.

"Do you trust me?" He asks her. How odd that she would stop trusting him now after everything they've been through, but the only safe place that he knew off would be his home in Chicago. His name was known throughout the vampire community, but he remained a huge mystery to them. Mason's natural careful behavior kept him protected and no one knew his real name there. Everything was under a different name, all phone lines were encrypted and his alarm system was updated every six months, a new code was reset daily.

"I have a safe place for us, but it's in America. Chicago to be a little more specific." He continues, not really waiting for her answer. Turning his head slightly to the side, he listens to the sirens in the distance for a moment before he returns his attention back to her. The muscles, tightly knotted from not working out, start to throb as he shifts his weight.

"I have a way for us out of London, I have friends and connections that are secure. I promise. We'll be safe, but we can't stay in Chicago for forever, it'll do until we can figure everything out." Biting his lower lip, he felt that he was trying to convince her to come with him. His tone sure was pleading in a way. His heart struggled to beat in spite of breaking in two. Something told him that she wouldn't go with him, that she would choose to stay in London, that she would try to rebuild.
  shesmorethanamemory / 252d 20h 49m 44s
[center [i 'Crator.']]

[center [font "candara" Despite being tortured for god knows how long, Valarie suddenly felt like a tiger let out of its cage. She began screaming as Mason fought off Victor's slackies. They were easy. Victor however, was not. He could easily slice Valarie's head off... There's only one issue, the silver on the barbed wire, is fake. Valarie smirked as Victor let the first few barbs into her neck. Her red eyes were locked onto Mason.. Don't give up. Valarie growled as she felt a little bit of strength coming back. The barbed wire wrapped around her wrists were real, the ones areound her ankle weren't..]]

[center [+red "Mason, now you aren't known for giving up.."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie lets her head hang. Play possum... She played dead. She even stopped breathing. It didn't really bother her, her heart couldn't pump blood any more any ways. Victor leans back away from her letting the barbed wire which was in his hands loose. He looked to Mason, his red eyes glowing with victory. He knew seeing Valarie dead would crush Mason. Perhaps Mason did love Valarie. His voice alone was enough to set off a protectiveness in her.. It was enough to give her the strength to break free. She slowly opened her eyes, and gazed to Mason. She wiggled in the chair again causing it to fall over.]]

[center [+red "You bitch!"]]

[center [font "candara" The old chair fell over, and the chair fell apart. The wooden pieces that lodged into her right arm hurt like hell. That pissed Victor off more. He started to panic. He grabbed a knife that one of the dead Vampires had on them. Blood, ash, and glass covered the floor of this once beautiful room. Valarie yanked the barbed wire off of her legs, Victor then began lunging at Mason. She let out a yell, then pulled herself up. She stumbled onto her knees, then used her left fist to hoist the rest of her weight up. Mason was hers to protect. Her fang elongated, and a loud hiss could be heard from the almost dead Valarie. She grabbed the barbed wire Victor used on her neck in her right hand, she then broke off a piece of the chair to make a wooden stake. She threw the stake at Victor's back.]]

[center [i 'Bingo.']]

[center [font "candara" Mason did come for her. She smirked when Victor fell down on his face in front of Mason's feet. Knives, bullets, and guns were every where. The barbed wire which was in her hand wouldn't kill Victor but it would make him hurt. Oh, she wanted him to hurt. How dare he. He took every thing from her. Her home, her dignity, her sanity.. She growled loudly as she walked over to Victor. The blood from the silver stakes, cuts, and burns were still gushing. It didn't bother her any more. The adrenaline in her was making her ignore the pain. She looked at her shoulder which had the silver stake in it still. She pulled the silver stake out, then stood next to Victor. She looked at Mason. Her pale skin which was once as white as snow was now pink from the blood stains. Her hair looked like some one spilt open her head. Her right cheek had cuts on it, her nose was bleeding as well.]]

[center [#d00171 "You know, Daddy. You taught your little girl well. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Hmm. Who's got who now, bitch?"]]

[center [font "candara" The pain from the stinging cuts around her legs and wrists made it a little hard for her to maneuver. She yanked the wooden stake from Victor's back, then she knelt down and before he knew it.. Victor had the barbed wire wrapped around his neck. She held the barbed wire with her right hand, and in her left she had the wooden stake. She wanted to know every thing. Why? Why had he done this to her? A Vampire with a human's soul isn't common now a days. The pure blood were threatened by these kind because they could feel human emotions, but also had the power to turn these emotions on and off. Along with the super speed, hearing, and pale skin. Valarie could also use magic.. She was dangerous, but right now she was more worried about killing Victor. Whether she did it, or Mason did it.. it didn't matter any more.]]

[center [font "candara" Victor hissed loudly as blood poured from his mouth as she let the barbs dig into his neck gently. He looked up at Mason. Talking wasn't an option either. She dug the wooden stake into his side. She just missed his heart. She knew how to kill him. As he gazed up at Mason Valarie laughed loudly.]]

[center [#d00171 "You know what? I've waited years for this... Years to make you pay for what you've done to me... You took my mother away, and Lenora who was my heart and soul. You tried taking away the man-"]]

[center [font "candara" Her red eyes met Mason's dark brown ones. He had blood on him... She had a feeling he would come. Despite being a cold blood killer, underneath his armor, he was simply a man who is tired of bull shit... Well, so was she. She closed her eyes letting the barbs dig ito Victors neck until a loud crunch could be heart. His spine snapped, and his head leaned to the left... Once the barbs went all the way through, a loud thump could be heard. There were other Vampires coming. Valarie was breathing loudly now. In her head that was the only noise she could hear. She did it, she defeated her monster of a father. She stood up slowly raising her hands as she took a deep breath. She licked her fingers. Victor's blood tasted sweet..]]

[center [#d00171 "I knew you'd come for me.."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie began searching the ashes on the floor for a pack of smokes. Valarie sighed when she finally found one pack, with two cigarettes left. The matches still worked too. She grabbed the two smokes, and lit them as she stood up straight. Her jeans were dark, and dirty from the blood that seeped into them. That didn't matter to her. She smirked as she walked to Mason.. She got close to him, then she gently placed a lit cigarette between his lips. She backed away and took a drag of her cigarette. The smoke felt like a sigh of relief as it hit her lungs. She felt like a nightmare was over... There was more to come though.. She was sure of it. Victor dying, wouldn't go well in the Vampire community.]]

[center [#d00171 "Leveling the playing field? Hot shot, you leveled a little more than that. One thing is for sure though, we need to move. So, if you have a plan please feel free to tell me."]]

[center [font "candara" She kept her eyes locked with his. She saw a hint of hurt in his eyes. Was that over losing her? Her Vampire side was telling her he would simply betray her in the end. Sex, money, and guns. That's all he cared about.. Right? She ashed the cigarette, the ashed hissed as it landed n a puddle of blood. She also needed blood. She didn't have to tell Mason that though.... She kept quiet as she looked at the damage done. Victor's head lied still by the rubble of the chair he used to torture her in. She took another long drag of her cigarette, watching as the white smoke seemed to linger. Just as this day would linger... Nothing like that ever happened to Valarie. Mason helped her though. She was truly eternally thankful. She only hoped she wouldn't regret it in the end.]]
  • Valarie 'Val' DuVant • / DirtyPretty / 252d 22h 34m 10s
Like sparkling cherry red candies, her eyes stare into his. He stares right back at her, his mind drifting to thoughts of his childhood. His mother would always buy the big bags of cherry cough drops. Just because she thought it was funny she would mix the cherry drops of acid with the sweeter similar hard candy. With her knitting in hand, she would lean back and create her quilts watching for her children to come up to the brightly colored green blow of deceit. Lovingly and jokingly, Mason and his sister would claim their mother is the reason they have trust issues, that the pair never could trust candy from a stranger; let alone from their own family.

He watches her walk away from him. As she has her back turned away from her, the duffle bags swinging loosely at her sides. The sun makes her damp white blond hair twinkle in the light. The separate strands are defined as they catch the light. He waits until she is a few feet ahead of him before leaning against the wall of the house. He couldn't quite bring himself to leave the small cottage. Somehow, it didn't belong in spite of being built here. He pulls a pale cigarette from his breast pocket, after searching his pockets, he murmurs under his breath. Lifting his gaze up and watching the people wander down the sidewalk across from him. Pulling the cigarette away from his dry lips, he looks at him.

"These damn things will kill me." He murmurs to himself before pushing the filter back against his scared lips. Slinging his one duffle bag over his shoulder, he strides across the street to a woman with wide hair and shame on her cheeks. Under clotted lashes, she looks up at him. She's a short thin woman, her nose riddled with sores and the right corner of her mouth lined with scabs. Her right arm hangs down her side as her left pulls it close to her. She's hunched and shivering, whether from disgust or from the slightly chilly air is unknown. Her bright pink blouse falls off her left shoulder, exposing her jutting collar bone and the crookedness of her shoulder. Her thickly tangled wiry hair smells of stale booze, cigars, and cheap perfume.

"Ma'am, do you have a light?" He asks her in a gentle tone. She flinches at his deeper voice before nodding. She fumbles for a moment and then pulls one out of her bra, which is struggling to even create the little "A" cups. He drops the duffle bag at his feet as she passes him the lighter. He takes a moment to turn the red Bic lighter in his hand, it's cheap. One that he would pick up at any gas station in the U.S. Patiently she waits for him, watching him with wide eyes and a chill to her. It takes him a few flicks before the trusty lighter produces a flame. Cupping one hand around the cigarette end and then pulling the flame close. Smoke twists into the air in front of his nose and he pulls in a breath. Returning the cigarette lighter to her, he thanks her with a simple nod. The trembling woman starts away from him, her skeletal frame disappearing behind a light pole for half a second.

"Hey, you have somewhere to go right?" He calls after her. She turns, her red hair poking out from behind the light pole comically. She nods once, one of those lying nods. He shakes his head, pulling another drag off of his cigarette. Turning away from the woman for a moment, he gazes after Valerie's disappearing figure. He plans on following her, but there are a few things he needs to take care of first. He grabs his duffle bag and starts toward her.

Instinctively she strays away from his side, but stays close. This kind man scares her, a single tear drips down her face before she buries her eyes into the cracks of the concrete. He walks along side her, comfortable with the silence between them. The woman continues walking forward, toward the darker parts of town, not really heading anywhere, but trying to convince this man that she did have somewhere to be. The cars passing them get worse as they continue forward. Minutes of silence pass between them before she stops at the corner of four streets. She looks up at him, her shoulder hunched over and her too big skirt billowing around her chicken legs. He stops with her, knowing this is her corner.

"You deserve better than this." He breaks the silence between them, flicking his butt into the street under the wheel of a passing car. She looks down, another shudder wrecks her body. Another tear drips off of her chin. The woman shakes her head almost violently.

"I can't get off the smack." She hisses at herself. A sob makes her body tremble even more than it was. Once again dropping his duffle bag, he drapes his trench coat around her. Her body is so thin as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to his side. He can feel her sharp hips and how light she is. Her worn heels threaten to fall apart as he forces her closer. Soon she is weeping against his side, he can barely understand her as she spits her life story at him.

With his pistol and knife strapped to his side, Mason is the physical embodiment of protection. His shirt is dirtied and dampened by her tears, he's pretty sure there is some mucus there too. He's not sure how long he stood there holding her, but it'd been a slight while. The adventure with the woman ended with him walking her to the clinic nearby. She shambled next to him, her head down and mascara dripping down her cheeks, staining her clothes. Around them, the walls are bright in spite of the gloomy mission of the institution. The woman behind the mahogany desk is plump blond woman. Her hair is pulled into a neat ponytail, her neck is festooned in fake pears. With his arm draped around the woman's shoulders and his trench coat back around his wide frame, hiding his pistol and knife, he gives the woman a chance for a better life. With pink painted lips, the woman stands and moves around the edge of the desk, her fat fingers reaching out toward her thin arms.

"Oh honey," the woman instantly ushers the quivering figure under her wing. "let's get you something to eat and some warmer clothes." The plump woman looked up at Mason, her eyes sparkling with admiration and praise. Mason only nods, he turns away and leaves the clinic. The lovely warm receptionist watches him go, her heart aching for the generosity of the mysterious man.

With his good deed done for the day, Mason starts back toward the greyer part of the town. He pulls another cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket. His eyebrows knit together as he look longingly at the pale stick. A curse escapes his lips as he taps it back into place, still not having a lighter to light it with. Stalking forward toward the bus station, he arches and eyebrow. Walking up to the ticket vendor, the woman greets him with a nasally voice. As he'd walked up she was picking dirt from under her fingernails, even though they had been picked clean before that. Her eyes are dull before she looks up at his face. He asks for a single ticket into the heart of London. Her eyes widen suddenly, she pulls her full red lips between her teeth.

"Sir, I have a message here for you, you're lady friend left it for you." His thick eyebrow arches before she passes the folded piece of paper to him under the little half circle in the bullet proof glass. He takes it, unfolds it, and he scans over the light curvy letters quickly. A low growl emits from his throat...Victor.

"Ma'am, were their any bags left here?" Mason asks and then woman shakes her head. Victor had cleaned up well. With a sigh, Mason backs away from the ticket vendor. The woman leans forward, almost pressing her face to the misty glass. She calls after him. With a forced smile, Mason steps farther out of line and instructs the woman to save him a ticket for the next bus. This puts him another hour behind, but he needed that extra hour to gather resources. Shoving his duffle bag on a close bench, he starts searching the zippered bag. At the very bottom of the bag, his fingers grab the burner phone. Impatiently he hammers the power button down, waiting for the screen to turn blue. He listens to the tone, his foot tapping angrily. This particular burner phone is older than flip phones. Barely longer than his palm, the phone it the bare-minimum.

Slamming his finger down the third key, he speed dials a good friend, someone that he could trust for good information. He didn't need the layout for the pub, he needed high powered rifles to cut down the numbers. He knew he was probably walking into a nest of vampires, he wasn't going to let them overwhelm him. His contact answers on the second ring.

"Yo," the gruff voice answers. This is Mason's personalized answer. He answers this greeting with silence. This their code. Counting six Missippi's before answering.

"I need that sniper." Across town, sitting in his high rise flat, is the man and arms dealer in London. Mason is his best customer, even though he doesn't know his first name. Leaning forward at the tone of his voice, James hisses under his breath.

"Brother, I might not have it." He answers the impatient man's demand. His dark hand rubs his aged face. The black man looks around his motel looking apartment, along one wall is a massive truck of black and silver. Inside the trunk are thousands of dollars worth of pistols, knifes, and holsters. He stands and moves away from the muted T.V. The screen flashes with naked girls climbing over one another. He turns his bare back to the images. He makes his way into his spare bedroom. The room is dripping with shelves, every shelf holds a high priced rife, one wall holds bazookas. He looks up toward the one empty shelf, the dust collecting.

"Uhhh..." James stares wide eyed at the empty space. He could hear the seething man on the other side. His frustration causes James' hands to tremble, he'd never heard the deadly man sound that way before. Fixing his face into a hard resolve, he nod once before licking his unsure lips. His eyes scan the cold silver and black room. The room is painted to look like the outside of a gun trunk. "I'll find one."

The line goes dead in his ear. This makes James think back, counting the seconds from when Crator had first asked about the sniper and to when he hung up, six seconds had passed. Rubbing his hand once again over his eyes, he cuts the six seconds in half, leaving him with three hours to find the M24 with accessories. He presses his own burner phone back to his ear, listening to the numbers being automatically dialed. He lumbers back to the leopard print covered couch. He stares ahead at the flashing images, not looking at them but watching the colors of blond and brunette. His mood is killed as he leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Sunshine!" He exclaims brightly, the woman on the other end of the phone sighs heavily at him, clearly not affected by his advances anymore. Pinning his phone to his ear with his left shoulder, James stands looking around for his underwear and pants. He finds the dark boxers under the nightstand and his jeans abandoned in the hall leading to the kitchen. Now, he looks for his shirt; which could be anywhere.

"I need a favor, a big fuckin' favor." He murmurs into the phone while pulling his boxers onto his hips followed by his stained jeans. He makes his way into the off white bathroom to run a short teeth comb through the black curls clinging close to this head. His mini afro as he affectionately calls it.

"What." The woman on the other end hisses. Her impatience with his isn't misplaced, James had a record of calling her for no reason or for asking for a date. At the moment she is standing over a bleeding woman, her beak nose bent at an odd angle and with her left eye swelling. She groans in pain as she fights unconsciousness. Claudia really didn't have time for James' shit.

"I'm sorry Sunshine, but I need that rife back." Roughly dropping the woman on the concrete, she smiles as she can hear the back of her head snap against the ground. The usually sickening sound makes Claudia smile wider. Planting a hand on her hip, she lets the joy fall from her face.

"What the fuck, James?" She growls. James, Now pulling his white shirt over his head and replacing the phone against his ear, he starts explaining that he really didn't own the sniper, that another customer of his bought it already, that he was just holding it for him before he could get it back to America. Now the rightful owner of the sniper wants it, and he wants in three hours or less. James pulls one sock on before falling to one side, his body unbalanced as he sits awkwardly on the couch. His other sock it replaced quickly followed by his worn ugly brown shoes.

"You sold me someone else's gun! You piece of shit!" She hisses. James could hear moans of pain on the other end of the line. James couldn't help from flinching at the sounds, he really didn't want to be who ever that was.

"Yes, yes. I know. I just need it back." James' voice starts to plead, he rips his truck keys off of the wall beside the front door. Unbolting the door and then sliding several locks to the side, he frees himself from his self-imposed cage. Turning quickly on his toes, James drops the keys twice before sliding the main key into the lock and securing the front door.

"I want my money back," Claudia growls from the other end. He could hear her giving orders to someone, something about anchoring and then letting 'her' sink. The whimpering and begging get louder as he can hear Claudia spit. James dashes down the stairs, pushing the electric start on his key fob. His truck roars to life in the parking lot, the sun glints off of the black Silverado. The American truck had been imported expensively, at to the delight of its owner.

"Whatever you want Sunshine, I just need it in my possession. Now!" James squeaks. Haphazardly, he barrels out of the parking lot and into traffic.
-

Mason, sits in a smoke filled bar. The feeling of deja vu makes his veins tingle as he looks across the long bar into the face of a young bar maid. She passes him a Bud Lite and then moves away from him. He sits on the end, away from the other day-drinkers. He leans forward, his shoulders hunched and his elbows resting against he counter. He pushes the long necked bottle to his lips, he takes a bitter swig. Keeping his head down, he avoids looking at the other men lined along the bar. It's been two hours since he'd made the call. He now is in the heart of London, sitting in the Irish pub across the street from Fiona's. His jaw is set, the anger clear on his face. He takes another drink. With a heavy heart, he lightly kicks his duffle bag not only making sure it's still there. He's traded his clothes for a laundry list of goodies.

Packed carefully into the main pocket of the duffle are two shotguns, the one from Lenora's and the other from his own stash in London. Sitting parallel to the twin shotguns is a single M1911. Cuddling against the side of the M1911 is an aluminum baseball bat. Wrapped carefully at the very bottom of the bag is Mason's blades for torture. This takes up the most space as he waits for his sniper. Of course, strapped to his side is his beloved pistol and hunting knife. In the hours that he'd waiting for James to call him back, to give him the address, he'd dipped the bullets and blade in silver. With the fresh coating, they'll hurt more and cut deeper/rougher. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Mason ponders whether to kick the door down or to pick the vampires off one by one with the sniper.

His thoughts are interrupted by the swinging off the pub door, a lean black man with a drawn face enters. He lifts a guitar case over the bar and instructs the woman to give the case to the man with a scar on his face. Before the woman can refuse, the black man leaves the case on the bar and exits quickly. Over his shoulder, Mason could see him sprint back to his truck before squealing tires out of the parking lot and into traffic. Mason has seen James several times, but James only know that Mason has a scar, he's never met nor seen him; that he knows of.

Standing, Mason wraps a large hand around the guitar case handle. He looks the woman in the face, studying her features before turning and leaving. Under his half full beer is a few pounds to pay for the beer and a note. The note tells the bar maid to evacuate the bar immediately. Stalking across the street, Mason glances over at Fiona's. He could see shadows dance across the drawn blinds but he couldn't see much more than that. He enters the building next Fiona's, carefully walking up the stairs. The building is a seasonal store, a Christmas store in the winter. He'd broken in a few minutes before walking into pub. He'd set up a short legged table, secured the area, installed a few steel locks and then planned a way down from the roof. Setting up this sight, He looks into the windows of Fiona's. He couldn't see much. Hanging around the back doors and the leaning against he ally and the front door several vampires guard the entrances. That didn't bother him. He would use the distraction he set up to pull them away from their places. Sliding a silver bullet into the chamber, Mason watches the shadow walk from a cloaked table to a chair in the middle of the room. He could see a curvy figure slumped in the chair. Lining up a shot, he waits. He could see the knife in the figure's hand. One cue, the car across the street opens and several woman get out. They happily stalk forward, chatting in their bar dress. At first the vampire leaning against the wall stops them, striking up a conversation before any of them could touch the front door. Mason had suggested the bar to them thirty minutes before. They wanted somewhere homey to drink.

Returning his attention to the figure, who had paused at the sound of humans, he lines up his shot and pulls the trigger. The hollow point silver bullet slams into the glass, and into the back of the figure's skull, lodging deeply and ending a life as quickly as he'd pulled the trigger. With the barrel silenced, only the sound of the glass shattering could be heard before the body falls to the ground. Too far away to hear it hitting the ground, he quickly using the moment of confusion to pick off one of the two vampires protecting the back exits. Surprised, the second drops to her knees, she cries out something he couldn't hear, alerting the other vampire around the front before Mason can silence her. Quickly, the vampire in the front peeks around the corner of the bar, he then yells at the girls to leave, to leave immediately as Mason then places a bullet right between his eyes. The two vampires hanging out in the ally quickly have phones pressed to their ears. Putting a bullet in the temple of the farthest one, he stops the call short. The other vampire ducks under the eve of the building. Swearing under his breath, he knows he can't get that one. He stands, unloads the sniper and then packs it skillfully into the duffle bag with the others. He then dances down the fire escape, into the ally. As he sees the other guard vampire, he's just ending the call and with a snarl moves toward Mason. Dropping his duffle bag and pulling his pistol, the loud report of the pistol is the last thing the man hears as the bullet lodges in his heart. The silver coursing through his blood. Now the nest knows he's here. He needs to get to Valarie.

He starts toward the front of the pub, before stopping. He unzips the duffle and looks toward the weakened window. His thick hand wraps around the handle of the bat. He rips it free and slams the bat into the window. Glass shatters and slinters, resting on his shoulders. Another swing and a larger hole is created in the window. Knocking the rest of the glass out of the way. He throws the duffle back into the bar, knocking over a few chairs in the process. He climbs in behind the bag. He looks toward his bleeding Valarie and the dead body before her. He is stopped before he can start toward her.

Victor hovers behind her, three vampires behind him. He's wearing gloves as he holds silver dipped barbed wire. A tick starts in his jaw as Victor drapes his hands in front of Valarie, threatening silently to strangle her with the barbed wire.

"Hello, Crator." Victor hisses. Nodding once to him, Mason remains quiet, watching him. The vampires behind Victor fidget, his name is not foreign to them and this make them uncomfortable. One has tears dripping off her pale cheek, the tears being bloody streaks. He'd killed her mate, ended him with a single bullet to the chest and she wasn't overly thrilled about it.

With his pistol clinging to his side, having been replaced after it's use, and the bat still in his left hand. He waits. He wishes he had pulled his favorite blade. He could throw Shirley quite a distance and end this clusterfuck.

"I'm real sick of your shit, Vicky." Mason hisses. Victor's icy blue eyes flash red, this causes a wicked smile to grace Mason's lips. There is a tense stand off. With the flick of his wrist, Victor could kill Valarie, he could easily crush Mason's world. Suddenly his heart starts hammering in his chest, something it hasn't done in a very long time when staring down a vampire.

Making the first move, Mason throws the bat in his left hand passed Victor's head and into the chest of the man standing behind him. The vampire goes down the with the force and hits the ground after Mason pulls his pistol, the crying female gives the ceiling a hollow stare as The bullet stills her aching heart. Another second passes as Mason grazes Victor's cheek, causing him to bring the wire closer to the Valarie's throat as the third vampire, drops to the ground. The first, now armed with a bat struggles to stand. Mason lets him lung forward ready to swing. Closing his fist around the barrel of his pistol, his uses the cream handled gun to reinforce his punch. Splinters of bone from his nose lodge thickly in his flesh. He bends in agony as Mason wrestles the bat from him once again, a well placed swing to the back of the man's head breaks his neck. Taking a frustrated breath, Victor lets the first few barbs bite into Valarie's neck. Lifting his hands in surrender, Mason tilts head his chest aches with every drop of blood on the floor.

"Hey man, just leveling the playing field a little." Mason pulls his finger away from the trigger. Victor's thin eyebrow is arched as his thin pale lips are pulled at the corners.
  shesmorethanamemory / 256d 17h 32m 31s
[center [font "candara" Valarie stood still for a few moments, she could actually hear Mason's heart beat at this point. Her icy blues met his dark brown eyes.. She was searching, but for what? A plan. The weapons were heavy.. She let the two bags she had drop to the ground as her back pack hung over her right shoulder. The two bags had daggers, potions, and spell books in them. The katana alone would be enough to cause the people of London at least some concern. The sun made her damp platinum blonde hair almost look white. She bit her bottom lip lightly before speaking finally.]]

[center [#d00171 "The Red Admiral is a place I'm probably not safe at. You how ever, are perfect to go in there and ask a few questions.. We'll gain information about Victor, then we should decide what to do from there.. There's a train station about two miles from here that will put us three miles form The Red Admiral. The train station here will not search us, so we should be okay.."]]

[center [i Why am I doing this?]]

[center [font "candara" She crossed her arms and took a deep breath. She was studying the details of Mason's face as if she were seeing it for the first time, or maybe the last. The outskirts were even busy during the day. Her plan could fall apart if Victor already knows what she's up to. Victor wasn't completely stupid, and he was after all her father. Technically she was sired to him. But, because she was only half Vampire, that bond only went half way... Victor didn't know where she was. She couldn't help but worry. Mason was now thrown into this. His eyes, dark yet held so much light, she wished he could see his soul through her unnatural eyes. She picked up the bags again then started walking East.]]

[center [font "candara" Basically she gave Mason a choice right then and there. He could follow her, or leave her proving his love to be untrue. She was falling for him, she felt a need to protect him, guide him, care for him.. In a way he felt like the missing piece of her soul lost long ago. He was a killer though, so a part of her knew he could turn against her, slash her throat, decapitate her, then go ahead and claim the bounty that's on her head.. The bounty was now 28 million pounds. Turns out, the rich man she killed has a son. His name is Xavier. Xavier like his father was rich. Only, he was a lawyer.. and an abuser as well. Prescription drugs, alcohol, and a record of hitting woman... A legacy left behind by a greedy human.]]

[center [font "candara" The bus station wasn't as big as she remembered, then again she was only ten years old when she rode the bus last. Valarie stood in the parking lot, the bus didn't come for another hour. She wanted to wait a little while to see if Mason was true. She had a feeling she would see his face soon.. His scar she had to admit was hot too. She blushed as wild fantasies ran through her head. The bus station was a small building, with areas for the buses to pull in and out of. Bums, addicts, and people visiting family mostly come here. The woman at the ticket kiosk seemed really miserable.. Valarie asked for a one way ticket to London. The woman asked her for her ID and all then gave her a ticket. Valarie leaned against the brick building then lit up a cigarette..]]

[center [+red "I heard you were looking for me, Valarie."]]

[center [font "candara" She turned her head to her left to see Victor. Before she could say a word, his pale fist came at her face knocking her out. Victor wanted to draw Mason to him. Killing him would kill Valarie's soul, giving Victor full control of his daughter. He snickered as he picked up her things. He left a note which said 'Going to Fiona's Pub in London. Meet me there. ~Val' The note looked like Valarie wrote it herself. Victor waited for his ride to get there. It was a limo, Victor had the driver put Valarie in the car as he got into the limo himself. Valarie came to it as the limo got moving. She tried to reach for her secret blade, only yo have it in her face with Victor's cold hand wrapped around it. Victor tsked three times.]]

[center [b "Boss we're going to have fun with this one."]]

[center [font "candara" The driver started driving away from the bus station. Valarie punched Victor in the face, climbing on top of him she wrapped her hands around his throat. Victor only laughed at this. Compared to Victor she was very weak. She let out a yelp when he kicked her n the stomach to get her off of him. She slumped over in the seat before growling lowly. The car stopped. How long was the ride? Valarie was genuinely scared now. Victor opened his door, got out, then let Valarie out. Finoa's Pub. Valarie' went wide eyed. There was an apartment above the pub. It was abandoned when she had to leave town. Valarie felt a tear fall down her cheek.]]

[center [+red "Kai. Take her things inside along with the tools... I'll meet you inside."]]

[center [#d00171 "Are you happy father?"]]

[center [font "candara" Victor's icy blues met Valarie's with an emotionless gaze. She hated him. He had taken every thing from her. Lenora was the only thing that kept her head straight. Right now, she felt help less. Victor laughed, then ran his fingers through his blonde hair. He got close to Valarie, then reached up to cut her cheek lightly with his finger nail. She winced a bit, then almost fell over as Victor jerked her into the pub. No one was at the pub right now. It was only noon. Valarie had no idea what was in store for her. She tried to wiggle away from Victor only to fail. He opened the door to the spare room and laughed hysterically as Ivan answered the door. Valarie screamed as Ivan grabbed her by the hair and drug her to a chair. Before she knew it, she was tied to a chair with barbed wire, pure silver.. It hurt like hell.]]

[center [#d00171 "You sold out just like the others did, you ass hole!"]]

[center [font "candara" She spit in Ivan's face. The Italian didn't even blink. What had Victor done to him? Valarie wanted to scream, only there was a gag in her mouth now. The soft cloth kept her cries muffled. Her hair shook out of the pony tail as she shook her head. Victor knelt down in front of her. She wanted to tear his blue eyes out. Hers were red once again, Victor grabbed a silver stake that was inside of one of her bags and put it through her shoulder. Her cry of pain only made him laugh. He grabbed under her chin so he could stare into her eyes.]]

[center [+red "I never said I was going to kill you. I am however going to kill you from the inside out, also a little torture never hurt any one... Right?"]]

[center [font "cadara" Kai, the other Vampire from before was standing in the corner of the room heating up a branding device. It was Victor's brands. he branded all of his Vampire girls, why? Because, in Victor's mind those girls were his and his alone. Victor heard sizzling. Valarie already had tears streaming down her face. Victor let one of her tears drip onto his left index finger. He licked his finger while staring down Valarie. He straightened himself out, then walked over to Kai. He told him to take over with the torture. Kai smirked as Valarie moved around in the chair, helplessly trying to break free. Kai grabbed the red hot brans, then he pressed it to Valarie's right breast. She let out a loud whimper. Being half Vampire right now, was a bitch. She felt every ounce of pain. Kai laughed as he walked over to a table that was next to the chair.]]

[center [b "Your boyfriend is gonna come for you and we're going to kill him."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie felt like giving up. Her ankles, wrists, shoulder, and chest bled as the wounds refused to close. They were using silver to hurt her longer. Valarie felt her eyes fluttering shut, then they opened wide when she felt a blade cut her skin open. Slowly, Kai cut her arms, and stopped once he was satisfied. Valarie's blood soaked the once white carpet. Kai lit up a cigarette and went on about how Victor was going to kill Mason. Valarie smirked a little. She knew Mason... Once he saw the woman he loved like this, near death.. The Vampires would be in for a rude awakening. Kai let out Valarie's gag, she took a couple of shallow breaths before Kai let her puff on the rest of his cigarette. Oh, that cigarette tasted sweet. Kai laughed, took it out of her mouth then burned her leg with it. His phone rang and he growled. He walked away speaking Asian or some thing...]]

[center [#d00171 "Mason is going to kill you all."]]

[center [font "candara" Kai was ignoring her still. Once he was off the phone, he walked out of the room. Victor wanted him down stairs. Her gag was still off, but she didn't have the energy to yell let alone talk. Hours had gone past... Why? Why her? The only thing she could feel was her blood pouring from the cuts. The smaller ones healed.. But, with out blood the others won't heal. Valarie wasn't dead, well she was.. But, her spirit wasn't. Valarie knew Mason would come for her.. Some how she knew that he could feel she was in trouble now.. It wasn't like her to abandon those she cared for.. She only hoped he cared for her the same way.]]
  • Valarie 'Val' DuVant • / DirtyPretty / 257d 13h 59m 30s
He was left alone with the body, only for a few short moment, but those short moment that he was alone dragged at his heart more than he thought they would. He sighs slightly, and then moves to the other side of the body, his eyes kept staring at the white blanket. None of it seemed real to him, the first time he has ever struggled with his profession. Most things registered quickly with Mason, he never needed to accept anything in his life, but this was different.

Licking his lips habitually, he moves toward the head of the blanket. The woman knew so much more than she let on, that too bothered him. The feeling of being a leaf in a hurricane anchored itself in his chest. Uncharacteristically, he bows his head for a moment uttering a soft prayer. Finally his attention is pulled away from the body, form the tragedy before him.

Valarie pulls the blanket away from the body, revealing nothing. He can see the horror and confusion in her eyes as she looks at him. It is obvious her first thought was that he did something with her. His own eyebrows knit together as his full lips part slightly. He looks for the right words to offer some explanation, to some how cover his own ass, but he quickly discovers he doesn't need to. The spirit of Lenora passes his left side, moving into his field of vision. She whispers something in Valarie's ear, something that is for her only. Mason didn't understand the profound bond the pair shared, but he did know the importance of the woman in Valarie's life and he could respect that. Disappearing for good, Lenora offers him nothing, something that he is ultimately okay with, but a part of him ached for that closeness.

Picking up his duffle bags, following Valarie's example, he trails behind her. The sun is warm on his skin, and too bright for him to see through. Blinking a few times, he allows his eyes to adjust before taking the lead briefly. The two them were eager now, they wanted this to be over. Mason wanted to feel Victor's blood on his hands. He later wanted to wipe the blade clean and watch the evil fade away. He is pulled from his thoughts by a horn in the distance. They needed to make their way back to London, but would that be the wise choice? Mason pondered the best way to attack, they needed a decent plan, at least and outline.

"Do you know the layout?" He asks her before elaborating further, "We should at least plan something." He wasn't as familiar with the Red Admiral as he'd like, he did want a little bit of an idea. He starts toward the bus stop, they had a little while to wait and he intended to talk to her for a while, to learn a little bit about Red Admiral.
  Mason Crator / shesmorethanamemory / 267d 8h 30m 23s
[center [i Here we go again...]]

[center [font "candara" The look in her eyes was a mixture of anger and sadness. The fury that raged through her veins was hotter than the pits of Hell. The pain from the blade being torn out made her scream yes, but it also triggered a different side of her. Once Mason was done she straightened herself out then took a deep breath. A low growl could be heard from her. She was pissed at this point. Her blonde hair was all over the place, and a few strands were in her face. She watched the strands in front of her face as they moved from her breathing so hard. Her red eyes focused on the door way for a moment before she finally got the strength to stand.]]

[center [i You know what you must do.]]

[center [font "candara" Lenora's voice echoed in her brain. She knew what she must do now. Victor must pay for what he has done to her. All of her life, well undead life at least, Victor has been her tormentor. He was supposed to be her father. Some one who protected her, loved her UNCONDITIONALLY. She stood with her fists balled up, ignoring the sharp pain in her thigh, she limped over to the fridge and opened it. A bag of blood was waiting for her with a note. Valarie's pale skin seemed white under the fridge light. She grabbed the bag, bit into it and sighed out of relief. The blood was cold, refreshing, and it gave her body the strength to heal her wounds.]]

[center [font "candara" She closed the fridge and stood there as she read the note. It was from Lenora. She explained that she saw this coming and didn't want to tell Valarie. She slowly walked into the living room, then she froze when she saw the pile of blankets. Under it was a woman who raised Valarie. She loved Lenora as if she were her mother. Her body was no longer shaking and one by one her wounds were slowly closing. Mason was right. They cannot leave Lenora there. Augra was out of the house at this point. Valarie knew Aura wound find her way. Lenora how ever, deserved a proper burial.]]

[center [#d00171 "She deserves a proper burial. We will bury her in the garden, it's what she would have wanted... Then, we can go kill every single one of those cock suckers."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie went upstairs, moving a little quicker now. The whole house was a wreck. The energy seemed dead. It was as if Lenora was the heart of the house, and once the heart died so did the house. Valarie walked over to her back pack, grabbed a pair of black leggings, a dark blue tank top and a pair of black flats. If she were fighting, she wanted to be comfortable at least, and she also wanted to look cute. After all, it's no fun when an ugly person kills some one, right?]]

[center [font "candara" She stripped out of her bloodied clothes quickly, then ran to the bathroom to wash the blood off of her. As she scrubbed all of the blood off of her she looked up at the mirror. No reflection. She shook her head. She should be used to that by now. Once she was done, she dried off then headed to the bedroom to get dressed, then headed downstairs once she had her things. There was a closet in the living room which had weapons in it. Valarie held onto her back pack strap as she cleared a path to the closet door. The closet was in the hall way which lead to Lenora's room.]]

[center [#d00171 "We need weapons first."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie opened the closet door and smirked. On the right wall were books, runes, silver stakes and different poisons. The left wall was where the crossbows, daggers, pistols, and shot guns were. The bullets for the guns were silver and had inscriptions carved into them. She grabbed two daggers, a cross bow, a few spell books, runes, and gloves. The black gloves were blessed. In front of Valarie though was her favorite weapon. It was a Katana. The hilt was red with silver stitching, hanging from it was a purple ribbon.. Lenora put that on it because it symbolized royalty. The Katana itself was forged from Tungsten Steel. The blade was used to kill Demons, Witches, Vampires, and Werewolves. Valarie lifted up the glass which covered the blade, put it in its sheath then put it over her right shoulder. Valarie grabbed every thing else she needed then got out of the closet. The weapons were in duffel bags, concealing them so they look like ordinary gym bags. She put the bags down then looked down to Lenora's body, then to Mason.]]

[center [#d00171 "Thank you, for helping me. But, I need to bury her alone. I... I've had every thing taken away from me. I at least want my last good bye with her to be alone."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie set her back pack next to the other bags. She went to grab Lenora's body, only to grab nothing but blanket. Valarie threw the blankets then stood up. She was about to freak on Mason, then behind Mason she saw Lenora.... It was her spirit. Valarie's eyes widened. Lenora then appeared behind Valarie. Valarie jumped, then came face to face with Lenora's spirit. She whispered in Valarie's ear...]]

[center [+blue "I told you that they would come for me eventually little one. I am free now, my body is no longer needed my spirit now can be free."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie watched as Lenora's ghost seemed to evaporate away. She felt a sort of emptiness now. Now, Lenora really was gone. She looked up at Mason, then grabbed her back pack and two duffel bags. In her back pack were three packs of cigarettes, a Beretta pistol and a few poisons. She nodded, then walked to where Mason was. She knew this was disturbing to him. A human caught in a Supernatural war zone. She walked next to Mason. The sunlight warmed her cold skin and that feeling of being alive came back to her.]]

[center [#d00171 "At least we have a wild story to tell every one back home. We should catch the next bus back to London and go to the Red Admiral. I'm sure that we can find some one who knows where Victor is.."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie stood there admiring the life the day light brought. People were in the streets talking, laughing, and just being human. She was jealous deep down. She was human once, now she's just a monster. Valarie felt renewed being in the sun. It was like the sun washed away all of the death and decay the past few days had brought. She hoped that after Victor was dead, it would be over and she could go back to being a human. A girl can dream... Right?]]

- + - Riight. - + -

[center [+red "You imbecile!"]]

[center [font "comic sans" Mean while, while Valarie is planning her revenge. Victor is trying to figure out why in the world he hired Nira. He told her to go to Lenora's and shake them up. Not to kill any one! The tall male Vampire knocked things off of his desk which was in his bed room. His red eyes were filled with rage as he stepped towards Nira. Nira who was on her knees begging for forgiveness felt Victor's cold, undead fingers around her neck.]]

[center [+red "You dare defy me."]]

[center [font "comic sans" Small cracks could be hear as Victor slowly broke Nira's throat. The woman tried speaking, gasping for air, but Victor was not having it. She didn't follow his wishes, she promised she wouldn't draw attention. That's what he gets though for trusting the word of a Witch, right? Victor tossed Nira's limp, lifeless body across his bed room. He stood with both hands on his desk, breathing like he was just in a five mile marathon. A servant knocked on the door way gently. The loud noises woke her. She saw Nira's dead body and went wide eyed. Victor looked over his shoulder at the servant girl.]]

[center [+red "There, there. Do not fear me.."]]

[center [font "comic sans" Victor turned around, with open arms to show the girl he wouldn't harm her. He was toying with her right now. He was hungry, and needed a meal. He didn't want fast food, so he thought he would take a different approach. The servant girl was a five foot red haired, Irish woman. The woman nodded, stepped over Nira's body then stood in front of Victor. Victor took the woman into his hard, gently stroking her hair. Once he felt her arms around him, that's when he went for it. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, then he bit into her neck. The woman simply went limp, Victor sucked her blood until her heart stopped then simply let her body fall to the floor. He licked his lips, then grabbed his jacket.]]

[center [+red "If you want some thing done, you need to do it yourself."]]

[center [font "comic sans" Victor walked out of his room, the hall way which lead to the basement was dark. The only light was the few candles which hung from the walls. Victor would prepare for Valarie and Mason to come, and when they did... Victor walked down a flight of stairs. The basement had concrete floors, walls, and the basement was where Victor kept his weapons. He grabbed a few daggers, wooden stakes, and a few other things before he came up from the basement. Victor placed the weapons down next to the couch in his living room.]]

[center [font "comic sans" The living room was medium sized. There was a fire place on the far side wall. The fire was burning, making Victor's skin warm up a bit. He sat down on his couch, then he lit up a cigarette. He decided that he would sit and wait for the duo to come kill him. Valarie doesn't know what he has in store for her... He laughed loudly, then began humming as he took a drag of his cigarette. The blood shed that was ahead would be monumental, and Victor couldn't be happier.]]
  • Valarie 'Val' DuVant • / DirtyPretty / 287d 21h 50m 51s
Like everything in his life, it happens so quickly. The frantic knocking at the door alarms him, he looks toward the front door and then watches Lenora as she stands to go answer the door. His trigger finger twitches and her somber words concern him. He sets his knife and fork down before planting his dark brown eyes. He leans away from the table as he returns his attention to the old woman walking away from them now. Heeding Lenora's warning, she stands and gets a dagger from a drawer. She then follows Lenora into the living room and toward the front door.

He looks down at his breakfast, half eaten and still steaming. Dread settles into his chest as he listens to that chaos break out in the living room. He stands suddenly, his chair falling away from him and landing with a loud clatter. His right and left hands instinctively go to his hips, reaching for his weapons, but they aren't there. An unfamiliar feeling, the feeling of fear and being unprotected fill him, this freezes his blood and stills his heart. He breath catches in his throat and he struggles to breathe for a few seconds. In those few seconds, Valarie's world comes crashing down again. Lenora's neck is snapped and he can hear the fight ensure in a room only a few feet away. His large eyes look to the door as she stumbles back in, blood dripping from her figure as she hisses in pain. Fat tears drip from her chin and cheeks.

The slamming of an old door and a chair dragging across the floor brings Mason back to the real world. The few seconds of complete vurnablity disappear beneath the mask that is him. He looks to the beautiful mess that is the vampire before him. He makes his way around the table, ignoring her words as he approaches her. He can see the pain, the grief, in her eyes and he knows what that ache does to a person. Her deep red eyes lock with his as he makes his way fearlessly toward her. He closes the space between them and without a second thought, He grips the jagged blade in his index finger and thumb.

"Take a deep breath." He instructs, his movements are automatic, robotic as though pulling broken knives from legs are a part of his daily life. Steadying his hand, he starts to apply pressure to the blade testing how much she could stand before he ripped the blade free from her thigh. She would bleed, a lot, and he would have her blood on his hands. He waits for her to breathe before pulling the blade free from her. He breaks eyes contact with her, his eyes darting to the floor as he listened to her in pain. Tossing the broken blade on the counter, he moves away to get a clean kitchen towel to stifle the bleeding. Quickly he returns to her, pushing the towel against her pale skin. In spite of all the blood and the gore, in spite of her grief, her beauty stuns him. His large warmer hands hold the towel against her thigh.

"I'm not leaving you." He keeps his eyes on her wound, watching as the blood slows down. He takes the extra length of the towel and ties it around her leg. He takes a few steps back, he looks down at her dark blood on his fingers. He watches as a drop falls from his finger and lands on the floor. In a smooth movement, he wipes his hands free of her blood. The image from his dream lingering in his mind. He turns away from her, not afraid of her bloodlust and trusting her word.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're okay, because I know you're not, but I need you to be okay enough to keep going. We'll end that son of a bitch." He growls lowly. His voice is soft in spite of the harsh edge to his words. The familiar itch creeps into his veins, into his fingers. It has been too long, too long since he's made paid kill. Killing without getting paid didn't bother him, it didn't please him either. Knowing that money waited for him in big yellow envelope made it so much better, so much more enjoyable.

He licks his lips, a distraction and an anchor to the real world. He pushes the chair softly out of the way, knowing that the intruder was gone. He waits for a noise in the living room, he is rewarded with silence before he opens the door and walks through. Carefully he closes the door behind him so she wouldn't have to face Lenora again. In the short time that he had been in the cabin with the two of them, he'd grown to like the old woman. Valarie acted different when she was with the older woman. Her fears and her worries were left at the doorstep.

His footsteps are heavy on the stairs as he mounts them, his hand pushes the door open and he faces his things on the ground. He pulls a pair of jeans on quickly, out of habit, he then slips his belt around his waist and secures it to him. His pistol and knife are clinging to him like they always do. He pulls his duster over his shoulders. Slinging his bags onto his shoulder, he ponders what to do next. He moves through a familiar routine of gathering his things. He then ventures back downstairs to face her again. Gently, he sets his things down. He'd always felt that the atmosphere in the cabin could easily be disturbed, and that disturbing the atmosphere would be a sin. He takes him a few minutes of rummaging around to find a blanket to cover Lenora's body with momentarily. He didn't know what Valarie wanted to do, but he was sure burring Lenora would be something she wanted. He couldn't bare to see her grief anymore. He wanted to take that pain from her and he wanted to play cards with her again. With the greatest care and respect, he places the blanket over Lenora. He turns his head away from the sight, away from the death that had followed them for the last few days.

"Valarie, we can't leave her here." He calls to her. Waiting for her answer or any sound of life behind him.
  shesmorethanamemory / 295d 6h 56m 12s
[center [font "candara" It was strange. The past few days all seemed to be a blur in her mind. The Vampire with a human soul. What a contradiction. Her knuckles were stinging, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain her soul felt. The night Ivan died a part of her died as well. That night was all too clear to Valarie. Her red eyes got lost in her coffee. She didn't have a plate, because she didn't eat human food. It smelled good. The only thing that smelled bad was this situation she had gotten herself into...]]]

[center [+blue "Val, hon. Don't worry yourself-"]]

[center [font "candara" Lenora cut herself off once Mason made his way into the kitchen. Her blind eyes seemed to be focused on Valarie some how. Though Lenora couldn't see, she could feel the tension between the two. Valarie's red eyes gazed up at Mason. It was weird to see Mason with out his weapons. She bit her bottom lip. A girlish part of her saw Mason as a knight with out his armor, sort of. She crossed her legs then she looked into his eyes. I mean, really looked. She saw all of the pain, happiness, guilt.. Coldness.. Every thing Mason was, she some how felt like she knew all of him. Why? Why had he saved her that night?]]

[center [i The cold metal shelf seemed to be a nice hiding spot. The rain drop fell onto the roof top of the pub. That was the only thing that kept her calm..]]

[center [font "candara" A jolt of sadness crept up on Valarie. Her red eyes were focused on the out side. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like some thing was coming. Some thing big. She jumped as the sudden silence was broken by a knock at the door. The knock was heavy, frantic and sounded like some one was in trouble. Valarie looked at Lenora. Lenora grabbed a hold of her walking stick, and stood up. Lenora told Valarie of a Witch named Nira. Nira was a witch working with Victor. Valarie didn't like the emotion she was feeling from Lenora. Lenora was acting like she was saying good bye to her and Mason both.]]

[center [+blue "You know what to do if any one comes in here looking for a quarrel. You both will change this world for the better. I love you Valarie. Mason I suggest you use the shot gun that is in the pantry if you wish to keep your life if it comes down to it."]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie had a 'deer in the head light' look for a moment before she took a deep breath and nodded. She knew that she was capable of killing any one who trifled with her. She took a sip of the coffee that was in front of her, closed her eyes and said a prayer. It was Russian for Goddess look over me.]]

[center [#d00171 "Boginya smotret' na menya."]]

[center [font "candara" She stood up slowly. Her whole demeanor had changed. She walked over to one of the wooden drawers that Lenora kept her knives in. There was a dagger in one which was dipped in Mandrake Root and Scorpion's Venom. Valarie grabbed the dagger out of the drawer, closed the drawer, then she looked over to Mason. She wasn't sure what to say to him right now, but he heard Lenora. Who ever wishes to fight, kill them and protect the house. Augra was on Lenora's shoulder. Valarie leaned against the door way to the kitchen. She ad a clear view of the front door from here. Who the hell would come here now? Her side was completely flat against the wall. If any one walked by they wouldn't notice her, giving her the upper hand.]]

[center [font "candara" Lenora opened the door, and to her surprise it was some one very familiar. Some one who hated her. She closed the door, and Augra ran to the kitchen screaming. Valarie ran to the front door once she saw some one with their hand around Lenora's throat. She hid behind the couch. Lenora whispered some thing about the prophecy she saw. Her last words were 'My Valarie will kill you, and if she doesn't. Her baby will.' The stranger snapped Lenora's neck. Valarie covered her mouth with her left hand while still holding the dagger in her right. The tears began falling, staining her pale cheeks red.]]

[center [i Goddess give me strength.]]

[center [font "candara" Valarie couldn't control herself. She jumped over the couch, and then tackled the stranger who was at the front door. It was a Witch. The Witch laughed, then Valarie felt a knife go into her thigh. The Witch kicked Valarie off of her sending Valarie into the living room. She rolled into the bottom leg of a wooden table. Her Vampire side was saying to drain the bitch dry, she killed Lenora. It was like she lost her mother all over again.She closed her eyes after she gripped the knife in her thigh, a loud scream could be heard from Valarie. The knife had jagged edges. She growled, and simply broke the hilt leaving the serrated blade in her skin. She crawled to the kitchen, she closed the door and put a chair in front of it. She opened the cabinets which were below the sink, and grabbed a mini cross bow that was in there. She hid it under the sink when she was younger because she knew Lenora had enemies. Valarie had blood on her. Her own, Lenora's and the witch's. She grabbed the sink, pulled herself up, and stood with the cross bow aimed at the door.]]

[center [font "candara" After a few minutes, Valarie realized the witch was gone. Augra was underneath the table. Valarie had completely forgotten about Mason for a moment. Her eyes were pure crimson red, her blood lust had taken over. She was waiting for the chair to go flying and the witch to be standing there just so she could put an arrow in her chest. When that didn't happen though, Valarie felt her body collapse. She was now on the floor, sitting. Her body was shaking. Well, she was awake now. Her emotions were blank, the only thing she could see was Lenora's dead face. She was silent. Every thing was. It was like nature itself even was silent. Valarie let out a cry of pain as she tore the cabinet door off of the bottom cabinet below the sink. She felt guilty about this, she also felt the need for revenge.]]

[center [#d00171 "You should go. Go before I get you killed too.."]]

[center [font "candara" She hoisted herself up again using the sink. Her tone was cold, yet her voice was shaky. Her blonde hair was now just in a side ways messy bun. Her skin was stained red with blood, and her cheeks were stained with tears. She turned on the hot water and shook her head as she put her hands under the water. She winced a little, eventually the pain began to go away though. She limped over to the table and sat down. She put her right leg side ways. The jagged blade was still embedded in her skin. Her red eyes were focused on the ground. Augra was hiding in the closet, holding onto the shot gun for dear life. The small Imp crawled out with a cigarette for Valarie. Valarie took the cigarette, then lit it up slowly letting the smoke escape her lips. Every thing was ruined. Augra whined then sat on the table in front of Valarie. Valarie watched the cigarette's smoke swirl around for a moment. Augra climbed onto Valarie's shoulder, letting her long tail wrap around Valarie's neck.]]

[center [#d00171 "I cannot do this to you. I cannot lose you, Mason. Right now, you are the only thing keeping my humanity alive inside of me. I promised to protect you, even if it means from me."]]

[center [font "candara" Augra tilted her head, then looked to Mason. Valarie couldn't look at Mason, she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted revenge more than any thing in the world right now. The mini cross bow was on the ground, the way it shined reminded Valarie of the rain. She stayed silent as she let every thing that had just happened sink in. She didn't feel hopeless, she was going to use this as fuel to her fire. Tears began falling down her cheeks slowly. Her soul ached right now. The thought of losing Mason made her feel completely empty. That would make her soul die, and she would become a cold blood emotionless blood sucker. She silently thought about every thing. All of the people she lost, all of the things she had seen, all of the things she did... Right now it seemed like things were going South.. But, she knew that Mason wouldn't leave her. The two together were too good together. Weren't they? The only thing they could do now was prepare... Prepare to face the greatest enemy they would face yet.]]
  • Valarie 'Val' DuVant • / DirtyPretty / 295d 20h 32m 51s
[i Crimson liquid drips onto his palm, his vison is trembling. He's on his knees, he can feel the concrete under his legs. In his right hand, hanging limply by his forefinger and thumb is his bloody beloved knife. Her pale body lays before him, her dark blood drips from the many wounds on her body. Her beautiful red eyes lay closed, her red lips slightly smeared from the battle she'd just lost. Thick hot tears drip off of his nose and chin, burning tears warm his cheeks in streams. Shirley finally falls from his right hand, a loud metal clang enters the air. His heart slams against his chest, it's final beats before it gives into the ache threatening to end it.]

With a painful jolt, Mason wakes. In his right hand his knife is gripped tightly, his left is reaching toward his pistol. He sits up, gently putting the knife down he frees his right hand to rub his face. He stifles a yawn before sluggishly looking around for a clock. He is rewarded with the realization that it's almost noon.

"Shit..." He murmurs finally struggling to stand. As he moves several of his joints pop with the effort. The smell of breakfast floats up from the stairs and his stomach growls. He runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling it. After some moments longer he digs through his bag to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. As he lifts his shirt from his toned muscles ache from sleeping on the floor, a kink in his neck makes him pause and he lets a groan escape him. Getting dressed through a foggy sense of recovery, he zips up his jeans. Grabbing his duster, he tosses it onto his bags. With all of his things in one area, he leaves for downstairs.

The smell intensifies as he makes his way down the stairs. A soft smile graces his lips, breakfast is a lost pleasure of his. His dark eyes fall onto the beautiful blond and the equally beautiful older woman. He is tempted to take a seat next to them, but he isn't ready for human interaction yet. He takes an empty mug nearby, pouring himself a cup coffee. He swirls the cup a few times before gently lifting the cup to his lips. He lets the hot liquid warm his lips and then start to burn him. He pulls the hot cup away with a satisfied sigh. He joins the pair at the table, sitting across from Valarie. Her hair is pulled into a bun on the top of her head, her tank top strap straying from the center of her right shoulder and her shorts made her legs longer. Setting the cup down, he runs his hand over his face one more time. He is attempting to wake up more. This is the first time she has seen him without his gun or knife attached to his hips.

As he studied the pair, he noticed Valerie far away in her own thoughts. He didn't want to interrupt her, but a part of him wanted to hear her voice. Picking up a fork, he started in at the food. There was a novelty in the action of eating with a vampire and witch. He eats his eggs as he watches them. No one speaks at first, each probably just waking up. Licking the drops of coffee of his lips, he blinks slowly. He enjoys the moment, the moment of peace among the impending chaos. Today will just be like the day before it. As he chews slowly, he ponders how much he's life had changed in a day. Turning head to the side, he yawns into his shoulder. He didn't want to leave this cottage. A deep buried part of him longed for these moments, the moments of normal among his extremely inconstant life.

A boyish part of him wanted to wake up to stumble downstairs. He wanted to watch his girlfriend cook breakfast wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He wanted to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her and a large part of him wanted that woman to be Valerie. He could imagine his lips on the back of her neck as he holds her against his body. He wanted to lean against her and just hold her for a long time, he wanted to wake up next to her. He looks down at his coffee suddenly, breaking his absent stare at Valerie.
  shesmorethanamemory / 299d 7h 26m 23s
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