Hatred, So Soon?
[The following was jointly written by Darkfire3 and Adacia, although this is not the beginning of the role play due to a server crash. Their posts will be copied and pasted in the order they were posted, with Adacia beginning first.]
The harsh words issued a shiver upon her slender spine. Claws of ice raked a vicious path, pausing the woman’s very existence, and urging her to re-consider the entire situation. She wanted so badly to out his little flame, the representation of threat that ed in the air. He illuminated years of cobwebs, and violated the perfection that took years to build, and eventually led to her eyes, the green that glittered beneath the idea of . She desired the very thought, despite the gods wishes of her.
Much like a fine glass of wine, her words were rich, , nd filled with notations of bliss. “My idea of our meeting was not to be represented by loss, nor would I be foolish enough to punish someone who gladly allied with the Uprising.”
Her hand whisked through the air, fingers parted to drag across the musky atmosphere, as if she were to grab the very thing that created their heavens. With her casual movements, lights followed, candle sticks of ancient years jumped at her wishes, flames flickering with a happiness of life. The room, for the most part visible now, would give the impression of a meeting place; Adacia was seated, with a poise undefiled at the head of a dust decorated table.
Her palm lowered, dirt parting ways to make room for the small arrangement upon the wooden surface. “Why is it, that we should trust you? Or the Bar’Nave family?”
Adacia merely watched the man. High cheek bones led to no smile, but to supple lips that pursed, emotionless, and indifferent. Silence would fall between the two, as if insisting that he sat and continued their conversation with a civil nature. But that would be asking a bit much of a vampire, now wouldn’t it?
Dalorean paused in his step, his ears picking up the steady, withheld tones of her barely contained anger. He reached to his side, a strong arm grasping a simply made wooden chair, designed so that no person would sit comfortably upon its surface. This was not a place meant for long stay, that much was obvious.
Dalorean spoke, the echoes of his voice passing along the walls of the dimly lit room. His was almost seductive, as if he were trying to bend this woman of iron will into his. However, this was merely meant to take the edge off of his hard tones. "Why should you trust me? A few simple reasons, really. First off, becuase I know and understand the situation that your commander is in, and I know how hard it is to halt a rebellion when you have not any persons that you can use. Secondly, becuase my battalions that I have to offer are worth at least as much as any that your leader can offer himself currently. Finally,' Dalorean paused, knowing full well that this is likely where the offer would be broken or made. He had been forced into a bluffed hand. Could one really say what it was that drew him to this cause? No, not even he could have told that, but all the same, Dalorean had been pulled into these events, and now longed for the feuds of war with a vivacious hunger. "Finally, I know things about your Superior and his forces that I am sure the rebels would be happy to find out. There are spies all around you, m'lady, and it is always helpful to have one on your side that knows this." The look on his face was nothing short of comfort, as if he were completely relaxed with the 'knowledge' he had. However, contempt flitted across his features, for he knew that if he did join this cause, he would report to someone, not a position he exactly wanted.
"And so, you see, I could either be a great help to you and your leader, or I could be a great detriment. The choice is yours..."
Challenge.
Had she missed something? It would appear that as if, in an instant, the tables had turned, and she would be the one to blame for anything to happen. This situation was to her discomfort, and she wished away the emotion that would surely consume her visage. The markings of flawless nature worked through moments of thought, and what seemed like an eternity of his heavy, harsh words. Though strength had never left her bright complexion, she appeared to be at a weakened state, mentally so.
“You still have not given me a single reason for myself to trust you, nor your family. You’ve managed to threaten me, several times over, though.”
Challengingly, she stood from her seat, walking the short length of the table that had once separated the two. Her intentions were a quieter voice, and a softer, more convincing tone. It was her false might that led her strides towards the man; perhaps it was the seduction within his tone that she was willing to test.
“The choice has been made.” Her hand searched for a supportive surface as she paused, shifting weight to one hip, and thus causing her opposite knee to bend with precision. “We’ve agreed on an alliance, but this meeting, it is more for my own understanding. But I’m yet to be satisfied.” She was sure her words came out the complete opposite way than which they were meant to. A blush issued in comparison to her demanding intonations. “What is your intent with this war? Or is it just the -lust of a vampire?” Her gaze, suddenly cold, fell to the man. No further questions were asked through her gaze, but a look of warning resided within. Within the close quarters that were now kept, it would be the first time that she would have the ability to judge him with reason, and she expected the same in return. Though remaining at such a short distance, her weakness would be vulnerable, her eyes, within easy range, and effortless appraisal.
ReasoningDalorean stood from his seat, but allowed his eyes the leisure of slowly passing from her boots, up the curvacious figure of her body and into the depths of her eyes. He stood there for a moment, taking in her features, but more importantly, the person behind them. It was impossible for him to see through her mask, though, he could read part of her in the story told by her eyes. He smiled lightly, his lips pulling back to reveal the perfectly white set of teeth, misshaped only by the enlarged canines. His own eyes flickered with a measured need for indulgence, as if he was being pulled into her seductive manners. His words compimented this, an erous tone touching in them.
"I had reasons of my own, but now, it may seem, that I should add a few, after seeing just -who- it is that I am dealing with..." He relaxed his smile, looking down and into her eyes, he allowed his to almost well up with emotion, as would a small puppy, giving her a look of utter adoration. However, this changed in an instant, his face becoming hard and serious as more words left his lips.
"However, my previous reasons are none less as justified. What you may call, "a vampire's for ," I call a need to prove my family's name once again. Long ago, my family had been a powerful line, but somewhere through my elder's, those I wish not to remember, we were disgraced by the desires of one such Vampiress and a feuding family's son. However, I wish to once again prove the worth of the name Bar'Nave, and so, have offered myself as a warrior and commander, to be used as needed. Should you wish to, perhaps, test me, I am sure that I would prove most worthy of the position."
Dalorean raised a gentle, soft-touched hand to Adacia's face, gently running the back of his hand along her fair skin, fingertips trailing on her cheek.
"But as I said,my reasons have been....slightly altered...
The Mask of Vitality
Adacia could feel her lips part, willing herself to scold him about something, to change the subject, somehow, but she was quickly quieted by his refined touch. Her eyes closed in reaction, gathering her wits. @%$@ the seductive ways of vampires. Her mind screamed with objections, and ‘I told you so’s,’ but his strength held her there, perhaps not physically, but she was still fastened tight. It was her only defense to speak, to remove her thoughts from the man that held such close comforts. She was a woman of vigor, and her gift for seduction was given by the gods in retaliation for her past life, but this time, it had backfired.
Tendrils of mane wound its way down to her chest, loose ringlets aiding the picturesque woman, as she lifted a finger, the digit directed to the man’s face, and more importantly, towards his canines. “If you dare so much as harm anyone of the Uprising, I’ll personally make sure you regret it.” It was the truth, and she wasn’t about to allow this man to watch her fall into his pit of desires. Her green eyes blinked open, the vivacious color was anything but gentle, and it portrayed a woman not to be messed with, not to be caught. She was thought to be a prize amongst many, even in her past life this was the case, of course unbeknownst to her. But it was the feeling of provocation that kept her gaze locked with his own, despite their difference in height; she would not allow the man to look down on her. She would not allow him to win.
Searching...Dalorean raised his eyebrows, his eyes suddenly drawing back, as if he had taken offence to her words. He raised a hand to his chest, pressing splayed fingers gently into the velvety fabric of his overcoat, the white ruffles of his sleeve brushing gently against the refined fabric.
"Why, my lady, I would never think of such an atrocity!" He grinned with his words, marking the sarcasm that hid within his tones. His eyes seemed to change their story once more, explaining now the desires he held for her, body, mind, and will. For this woman, it was much more in the thrill of the hunt than it was in the actual desire for her flesh, but all the same, he had found that she could be -quite- the specimen. Gentle allure had flooded his gaze as he stared deeply into her once more. He smiled as it seemed that some of her defences had been lowered by her initial reaction to his movements. He moved toward her slowly, his actions nonthreatening. His hand moved from his chest to rest the palm on her cheek once more. This time, however, his hand rested there, allowing a tingling sensation through his arm.
Dalorean leaned closer, his lips gently brushing the side of her face as they moved to her ear. His breath was quiet and barely audible, though hot against the nape of her neck. "I am yours to command, in any way you choose..." A smile spread across his features, his eyelids drooping slightly as he reveled in the affection that had been measured into his words, tempting and daunting every faction and aspect of her wall of emotions, searching for a weakness...
Motives?
Her formalities were proven by a gaping jaw as she fought to consume air; a gasp of surprise rendered itself audible. Thankfully, she was a sucker for big men that could toss her around, and not those of the submissive style. It would be easier for her, this way, to continue to pretend that he was unattractive, and undesirable. “Is this a game to you, Dalorean?” This would be the first time that she had called him by his first name, and it would be an interesting reaction that she would await the response of. If it had not been for the table that positioned itself perfectly so, she would have presented space between the two, along with a ic smile, and a spell that would keep his head spinning for days. They were too much alike, butting heads and pulling out stops that each other already had mastered.
Casually, she lifted herself to the table’s surface; slender arms appeared to possess unseen strength, and caused her a little comfort, a release from the situation that she had asked for. Stupid backfiring plan. It was in turn her aggressive smile that greeted the man, “An atrocity you’re certain of never committing?” She was sure that he had ulterior motives, and this irked her interest. With slim legs crossing, she watched the man, awaiting a give in his relentless onslaught of well planned moves, she awaited a fault in his game. For this was what this all was….a game, right?
Motives indeed.Dalorean followed her movements and savored her motions, her initial reactions to his lips brushing against her cheek exactly what he had hoped for. However, when her body pulled itself away from his, it was not what he wanted. Something was wrong with the way he was approaching this, and he -would- find it out.
Adacia lifted herself to the table, a strange look flooding over her features. Her eyes contained a look of utter disbelief at first, but were soon taken over by her resolute solidity once more. Dalorean admired this trait, this ability to keep herself completely composed when others would falter. He admired it, but he would break it.
Dalorean was suddenly drawn back from his revelries by the utterance of his name, something that he did not often hear. His eyes flickered dangerously, as if he would attack her merely for saying it. However, this soon passed, his eyes becoming permeated with gentle color once more. His lips opened, speaking in a slow, quiet voice.
"A game? Yes, parts of it are a game." He chuckled lightly, then took a step toward her once more, positioning his body gently before her legs. "A game, and a fun one at that..." He leaned toward her, keeping his face close to hers, no more than a foot away. "Would I hurt anyone? Aye, I said I would not...then again, Iie. I would hurt anyone that would be deemed necessary to further the cause...but wouldn't we all?" He leaned forward yet still, only to have Adacia tilt back. "Scared...little ?" His eyes flickered passionately, his body leaning forward to lightly press his lips to hers, only for a moment, then they withdrew. He wanted to test the waters before he made a decision...
Wagering.
Adacia pressed her small palms to the man’s chest, ordering him to keep his distance with a gentle shove. Whether her blatant hint would dawn on the man, or not, was beyond her. She quickly pulled away from his warmth, clasping her hands carefully within a well concealed lap. The lengths of her gown not rising any further in her seated position than a lady would deem necessary. The material making a beautiful background of the darkest purple for her linking fingers. She stared almost blankly at the man, his kiss had apparently yet to register, or was it shock? Either way, her glare was cold, and equally as cruel as his own. Oh yes, this game would be entertaining to say the least. “Have some respect, ...Dalorean...” His name rolled off her tongue with a tainted purr, as if she enjoyed the mutilation of its pronunciation.
After having made room for herself to settle upon the ground once again, she slipped from the wooden top, a hand wavering in the direction of his shoulder, searching for support. Heels confirmed the connection between spiked boots and the dusty floor boards, a creak resounding all too soon afterwards. “A little ?” Slowly, cautiously, she her hand from his precious clothing, the richness of fabric gliding beneath her feathering touch, before she managed to reach for her own chiseled face, and further more, to entwine her digits within silky locks of chestnut hair. The flowing mane danced and reacted to her movements, leisurely, almost emphatically. Taking a pride filled step, she changed directions, as if to circle the man like a shark, judging, appraising, and waiting. Surely a weakness would make itself obvious, sooner or later. She needed something to have to her advantage, for this fight would be over soon if she did not figure something out, and fast. “Do you make bets when playing games, sir?” Her eyes trailed across the figure’s back that stood before her, hunting for something that she could not find.
A wager?Dalorean stood where he had benn standing, his body held in an erect, pride-filled stance. His head slowly twisted on his neck, a small sneer pressed on his lips as she wound about him, as if to ensare him in some type of netting, invisible yet entrapping. However, his lips pulled apart as his tongue formed the words, those which would answer her questions.
"Respect? Mad'am Adacia? Oh, believe me miss, I have the utmost for you." He smiled, stepping lightly around as if to face her agian, though he was still a single step behind her turns. However, this would prove to be much more than an idle movement, he was deliverately not allowing her behind him...he didn't trust her that much, not yet. HE spoke again, his words rich with humbleness, though carrying an undertone of sarcasm. "You see, I must respect you, for where others have indeed succumbed themselves to my bodily charm and desirable persona, you have resisted, and for that," he swept a hand toward her, bowing lightly as he faced her once more, "I bow to you."
Dalorean soon righted himself, raising a single hand to slowly brush away a few strands of dark hair, tucking it behind a pale ear. The large collar on his neck sat comfortably agains tthe skin, the velvety crimson contrasting brightly with his complexion. His eyes stay trained on Adacia, watching her each and every movement. Each turn of her foot, each flick of the wrist, all were steadily studied as he sought to figure out his ally, or was she an enemy? It was to soon to tell...
“Do you make bets when playing games, sir?” Her words echoed in his head, sparking a little seen interest that welled within his soul, sprouting as he turned to her, eyes gleaming.
"It would all depend what it was I was wagering upon, and, more importantly, what it was that I was sure to win." His eyes gleamed again, and he sneered, revealing once more the sharp canines of his ineritance. He chuckled eyeing her with a look that was more precarious now than before. He wanted to know her answer...it would tell him much.
The Accord.
Paused, a filtered smile reacted in concern of his mimicking stroll. It was her eyes now, which followed. The brewing charm laid beneath the belly of color, much like a mystical storm, the green churned in a calculation, her answer could mean everything. Oh how she loved the thrill, to game, to toy with one’s emotions, and to win. “Your arrogance humbles me, vampire.” It was then that the glinting moon faded from sight, a buoyant cloud presenting itself to the manor, and to cascade into the depths of the night. Her voice sounded from the darkness, nearly as faint as the artificially created light, she could be heard, “If you promise yourself to the Uprising, and declare that your motives are faithful, then I shall promise my aid to the rekindling of Bar’Nave’s name. If either shall fail in doing so, our wagers will be compromised.” She awaited his returning voice, a sound that had become rather comforting amongst the groaning of wood, and scattering of rats. His wager would permit their accord, if she agreed; of course he must be within reason.
With the clouds came the feeling of humidity, rain was sure to hit that night, for this she was glad. Nothing was better than the fresh scent of rain, or more relaxing than the noise it presented upon one’s rooftop. A sigh brought the nostalgic woman back to reality.
He stood quietly, allowing the light from the candles to flicker over the hair that cascaded around his shoulders, his eyes glazed over for the moment. He reveled in the depths of her statements, whether she understood them or not. This was of little cause to him. He understood them, and that was reason enough. For the moment, he had been merely playing at the game of her life, of her heart, and whether or not she even had one. However, now he would up the anty, as some may say. All his lots were about to be cast on one ballot, and his fate may very well be decided by such. However, he had no reason not to, and so, he would step into the middle of the road, and hope no carriage would hit him.
Dalorean turned to look at Adacia, a smile widening over his thin lips. However, this smile was no longer one that held any warmth. No, this was a grin that embodied the cold, cruel heart that resided in the man, and beatless, no longer pumping anything like through his veins. His lips had sneered over his teeth, now revealing the full white of the glistening canines, a threatening touch seemingly added to them. His eyes were cold stones, no longer allowing any emotion to touch into their depths. Pain and malice seemed to radiate from the very core of his being, as if, at any moment he might be about to snap on the world, rending his blade in a scythe of destruction. His skin seemed to lose its own depth, the palor becoming a slate against his body. Tenacity tore into his gaze as he glared down at Adacia, his right hand raising to grate the back of his nails along her cheek. He did not press hard, but the nails had been seemingly filed to near points, and so, would offer a little discomfort with his touch. His words were like knives in the cool chambers of the mansion, stabbing into her ears.
"I pledge my allegiance to your cause, Adacia. However, know this. I am not to be a mere pawn of this place. Should I deem it fit, I -will- compromise my own wager. Should you disgrace my name, or that of my Family, in any way, be assured, I should have no problem removing your soul from the shell you call a body."
Dalorean had chosen his words carefully, making sure to allow her to understand where his allegiance lay. He would not give himself to a cause he knew so little about, to a leader he had never met, and to an organization that lay behind a curtain of lies and masked members. He was completely attached to only one cause: Himself.
Ah, Fresh Air.
Alas! He would make a worthy accomplice after all. With masquerading masks put aside, she could finally understand her once foreseen opponent. He was not any different now, really. Just as dangerous as before, but this time, she was more comfortable. Understanding what was once unpredictable about him. “I couldn’t ask for anything more, vampire.” Her intonations were soft, much like a soothing mother, it was always a skill of hers, to exact the opposite of emotions, to bring relevance to a situation of hatred and confusion.
After all, she was rather partial to the idea of dying. It would be about ~~&@ed time, if her calculations were correct. For a woman to remain at a state of beauty which only the vitality of a young should possess, was taxing. Her soul was aged, much like a desired wine, but far beyond the comprehension that even she knew of. The two components that created this very woman, were nearly always at war. It was tiring.
Her arms crossed, a hidden blush raced from her cheeks to the depths of her cleavage, thankfully the darkness allowed her state of fleeting pallor, to remain secreted. Nearby, a chair that remained unoccupied during their session, engrossed a cloak. The material, as dark as the deepest night, had been summoned at her will, as the daunting chill of fall’s embrace, encompassed her quaint form. She removed the garment, much to the dismay of gathered dust, and administered the cloth to her shoulders. She was almost sure that he’d be wondering of her intentions at this point, as quiet as she was. Thankfully having ignored his charm, and managing a level head, she agreed inwardly, that this was an accomplishment to note of, but was there more she could achieve?
“Isn’t it hard to disgrace a sleeping name?” She would test the waters; surely this would unleash the monster that lived behind his ever changing eyes. “For some reason, Dalorean, I don’t feel satisfied.” Her steps clicked adamantly upon the hard, decrepit flooring, which most likely housed thousands of bodies beneath its masking appearance. What would he do now? She saw his reaction last time when she registered his name with a drawl of vicious nature. But this time, her pronunciations were soothing, unchanging from only moments ago, it would be hard to attack such an apparent creature of peace. But her steps continued, not caring of his facial expression, her back turned, trusting of the man as she left the room, only to be greeted by the first rain drops that had been so easily predicted. Her slender hands moved with adept, practiced grace, raising her hood. Disheveled hair was, for the most part, unattractive.
The air was refreshing, a pleasant change to the musty atmosphere that the old manor provided. Her actions though, were never meant to be uninviting, for she actually found this being to be of interest. Dalorean, he was interesting indeed.
letting looseIt was not often that Dalorean made use of the certain abilities that came with the gift of Vampirehood, for often enough, he had no use for them...most of them, anyway.
However, now was one such time that he deemed it necessary to impose the power of the position he held, and what could be accomplished through this. His ace contorted in a vicious grimace as his eyes narrowed in rage. She had once again said wrongly his name, and once again had she brought dishonor to his view of his family. Sleeping? Ha! His brothers and sisters had not been ed only to allow some infidel mock their heritage and name.
In a moment he was in front of her, his sword in his grasp. The speed he possessed when he desired it was uncanny, nothing any mortal could have. He moved so quickly that the eye would have a hard time trying to keep up with his movements; he was a blur. HIs sword was in hand, and now raised so that the edge of the rapier rested mere centimeters in front of this woman's neck, tapping up gently on her chin. He opened his mouth wide and a sound, something like a hiss, echoed from deep within his mouth, his canines bared at her atrocity. His eyes were dark and ly, pained at the moment,
"Calm your tongue, woman. You should take care what you say..."
'This Mean We Arn't Friends?
Rigid, the woman’s ambrosial hips relinquished movement; she awaited the defensive man to cut out her heart, and indulge himself with such fineries. His eyes betrayed no anger, as if the very emotion had consumed him, and drove him. She would not press any further. As her languid motions were subdued to the tedious removal of the blade pointed defiantly at her chest, she spoke, it could be heard within her words, the shiver of excitement, of fear. “I’ll heed your warning, sir.” This had been said as her insubstantial palm lifted to the flat of his blade, she was physically weak, but strained to release herself from the target of his animosity. For once she had been troubled by her playful mannerisms, and for this she was sorry. Embarrassment flooded her composure, and a sigh drifted past her lips to diminish her faultless carriage. Through the paining onslaught of her physical task, she noticed a trickle of from the meat of her hand. Much like a break of sun amongst a cloudy day, the red poured down a slender, well planned path, and a whimper commenced. She d herself at that very moment, what was all this good for now? She appeared so strong, until faced with the littlest feat of steel, and a few well chosen words. It was useless, he was unyielding, and her strength was imaginary. She could only opt for a departure now; her intentions were obvious as she began a gentle step to the side, if only he would let her go.
Don't go, not yet...Dalorean stared intensely at the woman, his eyes picking her apart for what she was. At last, he had broken her facade, and at last, he was gifted with exactly what he had been looking for. A small smile took the place of the look on his face, spreading gently over his lips. His eyes resumed a comfortably placity, a sigh to their former being.
"I apologize for my actions, mad'am Adacia. I, as you see, do not take well to the detrimental attitudes of those towards my family. Far too often have I had to deal with such, and now, now is not the time. However, this does not, in a way, compromise -our- situation. As for working for you, oh yes, that much I do. For, from the look of things, you could use a tad of help with the blade, and is it easier for you to learn, or for me to accompany you?"
Dalorean looked at her with genuine intrigue in his eyes. He vaguely understood the concept that there was a chance that his actions had just completely voided the entire purpose of his meeting, and yet, he was too blinded by his arrogance.
"Adacia, I believe that I should still work for you, that I should still allow myself into your services. You must simply understand that there are things I will not react to in a likeable manner. Is that well, Adacia?"
Travels ahead.
Adacia played with a smile as she strolled away from the man, her hips swung diligently beneath the taffeta arrangement. Her thoughts were abroad at the moment, ing into the depths of manipulation, and furthermore skimming across their original agreement. He would be handy to have around, but Alucard would be the judge of that. As if slowed in time, she turned her head about to gaze upon the man once more, eyes sparkling despite the dreary behavior of the weather. “To Doomcloud then, to meet with Alucard?” She simply ran her gaze to the length of his blade, before returning her sight to the journey ahead; smirking at the idea of wielding such a thing. The lady's paces slowed as she neared the horse that Dalorean rode, she was weak for creatures of the animal kingdom. They were the one thing her heart did reach out to, and the one race that she admired. It was the rain that brought the woman back to reality, its pelting onslaught raged to a new level, surely the waters would be rising this night, and if they didn’t hurry, the travels to Doomcloud would be more difficult than originally perceived, on foot at least.
“Well?” Her voice carried no tune that would offend; she was meek in her motions now, after experiencing the anger that resided within Dalorean’s d soul.
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