Another Mercenary Among Merchants

[Aveilthé]

OOC: This is all I'm typing until Z responds. XD

Taro's beady eyes widened considerably as December made to take
another swing. So this was it... she was going to kill him. But as he
tried to back away, it was too late - the blade was long, and caught
him sharply on the side of the head. Issuing a loud grunt, he fell
forward and was lying motionless on the floor, his eyes closed,
though he was breathing. December successfully knocked him out
cold.

[Mama Z]

Zayn was concentrating. He had been watching the fight momentarily, but as soon as Taros body hit the floor he went back to tending his brother. He had long since taken off his shirt, covering Fortunes battle wound. Briefly, he glanced over at the cat that was mentioned and growled. Why the hell would he have a cat? 'He might still be saved.' He commented and with ease shifted his brother up and held him as if he were holding a bride. Without much word, he moved back towards where they had been before only moments ago. He knew mortal weapons could not kill them and that his brother was in no way dismembered. There might be a chance, even a slim one. The only down fall was that neither had fed, it would take a lot of Zayn, but Fortune needed blood. Needed to refresh his bodys demands, to improve healing. Hopefully, it would work. That is, if Taro didnt wake back up and disturb everything.

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[Relairah]

The orange, tabby cat continued to stand there, front paws still
holding her lightly against Fortuné's arm. She glanced toward the
two mercenaries as Taro went down, her ears twitching with the
thud as the great man's body hit the floor, but she didn't leave her
attention on him far too long. She watched December approach and
with the comment about Zayn having a cat, and Zayn's response to
it, she meowed as if trying to say something, but all she could
manage were meows that sounded rather irritated, though she
didn't keep it up too long, seeing as she couldn't voice what she
wanted to. However, her attention didn't remain on that small
matter for very long.

It seemed December was agitated as was, and smart-mouth
remarks really wouldn't help, even if no one could understand what
the actual words were. She glanced from Zayn to December, then
once again at Fortuné. She mostly ignored Imi, seeming to have not
much interest in what the bird was up to. She simply continued to
stay there, as if to make sure everything was okay and turned out
well.

The cat seemed to understand what December was saying, and
when the mercenary snapped her wrist back in place, sending a
rather loud noise through the air, especially sharp to her ears, she
seemed to jump, yet mostly because she hadn't expected that
one... she seemed to gaze up at December with concerned eyes,
and after glancing downward at Fortuné once more she shifted her
position, moving from Fortuné's side to December's and gently
rubbing against December's leg. The cat was unaware of Zayn's
thoughts, but if she had known them, she probably would have
done some notion of wanting to help.

[Felypsa]

After December had finished roughly tending to her injury, she watched, feeling oddly detached, as Zayn held up Fortuné. “He might still be saved.” Those were the words of Zayn, of Fortuné’s loving brother, of a fellow vampire, of a rational thinker. December surprised herself when she realized she would have believed anything Zayn said, and that whatever he did say was the final verdict in this matter. He seemed to know—and, perhaps, care?—the most out of all who were present.

December had known Fortuné little more than two days—less, even—while Zayn had been his close brother growing up. They had been separated for many hundreds of years, but that made their reunion and this pivotal moment all the more significant. Numbly, not knowing what she was feeling (for it was as foreign a feeling as December had ever felt; remorse and sorrow mixed with hope and—God knows what), the half-seraph watched, just about useless, as a vampire tended to his own.

They say that angels had powers of healing, but here, the angel was helpless, and the vampire the savior. December closed her eyes briefly, and felt a celestial connection to her father in that short moment. In that connection, her father sent his overwhelming love and pride…and December thought that he sent his approval as well. Good job, December, he seemed to be saying. Good job. She had last felt this connection when she killed as a mercenary for the first time, and consequently honored the dead soldier.

Then, a blink, and the connection was gone, leaving December profoundly alone as she stared at the weak and dying Fortuné and the determined Zayn. The scene and emotion nearly brought tears to her eyes—nearly. But December was not the crying type. She sat there, drinking in the moment, and knew she would never forget it as long as she lived.

“If there’s anything I can do,” she said to Zayn, and her voice was both brisk and solemn, “let me know. I cannot—I have not known him as long as you have, have not gotten the chance to get close to him as you have, but—” she closed her eyes, not believing that she was going to say this, “I still care for him.” She allowed herself a brief smile. “God alone knows why.”

[Aveilthé]

Everything around Fortuné seem to have faded from light and
color, and at first he couldn't understand why nor really
cared for the pain in his stomach was immeasurable. His thoughts
could hardly be torn from how excrutiating his insides felt. He was
clutching the area of where dark blood had before unremittingly flowed,
yet it looked as if it had ceased only a bit. Fortuné's face was
much paler than usual. The veins beneath his skin were beginning
to show, as if they were screaming at what little blood he now
contained to keep flowing, no matter what. On top of it all,
the poor fellow's body was beginning to be colder to the touch;
definitely not a good sign at all.

As he panted pathetically, he tried his hardest to speak. All that
came out was cold, rhaspy breath. If either Zayn or December,
even the tabby cat had listened closely, perhaps they could hear
him trying to call out December's name, albeit very weakly.

This was the life of a vampire; to live and suffer. There was plenty
of suffering within him. The same kind of suffering he put off
into those that were close to him. The same kind of suffering
given to him. Given to his brother. Life is unfair. And yet, Fortuné
is immortal. He couldn't die. That was impossible. But yet... even
some very serious wounds that would instantly kill a mortal being
like Taro had done to Fortuné was critical enough for a vampire.
Is it even remotely possible then, that Fortuné's life was hanging
by a very thin thread?

[Mama Z]

(Quick question....How am I going to save him? Are we going by he cant die from normal things, only the sun, fire and compelte dismemberment. Or what? Cause I dun wanna overstep the boundries and god mode or what not..)

[Aveilthé]

OOC: Uhh... hmm... well you can attempt anything, I mean, I dunno. *Shrugs* I've only recently started getting into the whole vampire mess, so I don't know what would EXACTLY save Fortune. After reading what you've talked about with Wom on vampires, I do agree on making some rules on them, because I have no inkling on what their true weaknesses is - save for sunlight, which is a no-brainer, lmao. And with that whole cross/holy crap (pun intended?), I assumed since vampires are LIKE demons in a sense, I figured that would be another weakness? Bwah.

[Aveilthé]

OOC: Urrr, I dislike discussing what we should do in plots. XD Though I understand this time, but then it reveals what we're gonna do to Fortune and I don't like discussing it, lol. No offense to anyone. x.x

[Mama Z]

(But that doesnt answer my questions Satts. Lmao I just dont want it to seem like godmoding is all, ya know?)

Quietly, he moved away from the smoke and stuffy filled room and back into the liar where sunlight could never seem to touch. Here they would hopefully be safe. As quickly as he could manage without pushing his brothers pain further, he laid him on the bed in which he had so many nights slept. Hey, not all vampires had to sleep in a coffin, but what mortal would dare open one? Shifting so he was cradeling his brothers head, Zayn brought his own wrist to his mouth and with ease, sunk enlongated teeth into the tender flesh, tearing but muscle and viens.

The taste of copper filled his mouth and he pulled away, instantly putting it to his brothers mouth. Fortune needed the strength now, later, Zayn would be able to feed to gather his own strength, that is if the Fat one didnt wake up anytime soon.

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[Felypsa]

oOc| i dun really know what to say >.< i'll just type a little somethin' until hikaru and kaoru respond...



December forced herself to stand and follow Zayn. She wanted to offer to carry Fortuné, but with her wrist in the condition it was, she knew it was better not to. She was suddenly reminded of the previous night, when she and Fortuné first met. Fortuné had killed a man, Rosaline’s grandfather as it turned out, and December had been the one to carry him most of the way until they could dispose of him in a big open hope. The eerie similarity between that situation and seeing Zayn carrying his brother so made December shudder.

She stood aloof in the room, not wanting to invade Zayn’s privacy. Imi, a snowy owl, was silent on her shoulder. When December saw Zayn’s fangs come out, she looked away, still uncomfortable with her closeness to such creatures she had until recently considered her bitter enemies. Closing her eyes, the half-seraph once again sent up a prayer to her father and his master, hoping Zayn could indeed save his brother without having to sacrifice himself.

[Aveilthé]

OOC: D'aww... sorry Z e.x Well personally s'not a big ole thing, really, so... *shruggers* whatever haha

LOL s'okay, things'll pick up XD This is, after all, a kickass rpage, yes.

It looked as if Fortuné was slumbering, but the only way to tell
that he was alive at all was his desperate breathing. It was only
when Zayn layed his wrist to Fortuné's lips did he give any
movement at all. Without much thought, and more upon instinct,
he grasped his brother's wrist with his hands and began to feed,
much like a needy baby on a bottle.

Slowly, he felt his body regain it's warmth, or what little warmth
a vampire could contain, his heart was returning at a normal rate,
and it pretty much looked as if Fortuné would make it, thanks
to Zayn.

Then Fortuné stopped, fluttering his big green eyes open.
"Thank you...," was all that he could really say, for he felt
exhaustion overwhelm him. Blood was stained upon his lips,
his brother's blood; some of it had trickled down at the side
of his mouth. Slowly, he lifted up his own shirt, and felt the
where Bloodfang stabbed through him, but there was no
wound. He had healed, yet there was still dried blood stained
on his abdomen and shirt.

"Wh... what happened?" he inquired weakly; he apparently had
forgotten a bit of the events that occured. Letting his vampiric
instinct take over made him forget a lot, because he wasn't
all himself at that moment in time.

[Mama Z]

The world was slowly starting to fade into a lovely shade of black just before Fortune had stopped his feeding. Blinking a few times he quickly got up and away from his sibling, wrapping the new wound with a piece of cloth that was laying about. Now he was just as weak as Fortune, but what else was he supposed to do? Nothing else probably would have saved him.

'You werent paying attention.' He muttered trying to fight off the dizzy affects that he was currently experiencing.

[Felypsa]

December did not open her eyes or cease to pray until she heard the familiar voice of her friend, awakening at last. She opened her eyes and looked down at Fortuné, relieved and amazed. She did not even roll her eyes when he asked what had happened. The question was well deserved.

Before she could even muster up an answer, she noticed that both vampires were very weak, Zayn looking like he would pass out any moment. With a sharp pain to her heart, December realized that they were both living on Zayn’s blood—enough for one vampire, hardly enough for two. She thought of the healthy, strong blood flowing through her veins and felt guilty. She might have offered them both some, but she did not think that vampires could drink the blood of a seraph—even just a half-seraph—without having some nasty effects. Their kind truly did not mix.

Besides, the thought of giving up her blood to a pair of hungry, needy vampires still made December squeamish. December, the very epitome of a practical, cold-hearted mercenary. She held out her one good arm to steady Zayn, if he should need it. “Relax,” she said in as soothing a voice as she coud manage. “You both need to get some sleep…let your blood regenerate, let your energy return. There are no more threats here.”

I hope, she added silently, thinking of the knocked-out Taro in the other room. If all went well, he would not wake for a while, so that December could…could what? He knew where this mansion was. Even if she dropped him in some random place in the city, he could still find it, come back, and kill the vamps…the reward was still offered.

I can’t kill him, either, December thought. Fortuné and Zayn have to escape still…but they are so weak, there’s no way they can manage a journey now. She rubbed her forehead and glanced at Imi, as if hoping for inspiration. These vamps are dying and there’s an assassin in the next room who won’t stop trying to kill them till they’re dead. With so many odds against them, how can save them without killing anyone else? She looked to the ceiling, wondering if her father was still paying attention. Why? Why must these vampires either kill or die? she asked silently in anguish.

One step at a time. “Rest and sleep,” December repeated, using her uninjured arm to attempt to guide Zayn to a place where he could do just that. Her broken wrist complained painfully, a reminder that December was not in full strength herself. This task was monumental enough for a completely healthy December, but now it was twice impossible. I cannot kill Taro. I’ll have to knock him out again if he stirs. I also cannot kill a human to feed these vampires so that they can regain their strength. Oh God, why must I be the protector of these lives? This is impossible!

She shook her head; she was being dramatic. Time to stop despairing and coolly look at all the rational options. After all, she was a mercenary, not an angel.

[Aveilthé]

OOC: Sooo... since it's still daylight... early daylight, mind... wanna skip ahead and make it night or sommat? XD Because it would be impossible to like... roleplay sleep or somethin' like that.

Fortuné seemed to not have heard Zayn, for his eyes were closed,
his head hanging limp; but he was not dead, simply sleeping
upon that bed. Filled with exhaustion and doubt, he fell asleep
almost as instantly his head hit the pillow, hardly knowing what
he had said. The blankets felt like soft clouds to him. He was
so very comfortable, but his face was expressionless.

From all the previous excitement, his hair became loose. He
looked strangely more masculine with his dark hair strewn
about his rather damp, perspiring visage.

Meanwhile, Taro was still lying upon the ground, a large bruise
swelled like a nasty fungus on the side of his bald head. What
really sucked for him was that Seraphim made a really terrible
impact on his head, since bald people usually have a knack for
metals sticking to their cranium for some bizarre reason. Thus,
when December swung her sword, it landed an immensely heavy
blow - much like a meteor striking the earth due to it's gravitational
pull.

At least a good thirty minutes or so passed before Taro's eyes
snapped open, though they looked bloodshot. After a few moments
of looking around, he said with difficulty, "Woah, like did I get
K.O.'d? Damn, musta had a lot ter drink... ooooh my head...
yup... did I miss a good party?" He looked up as he hoisted himself
up, but he realized that nobody was around. It took a while for
him to notice that the furniture had been destroyed in the vicinity.

"Holy Mary, Joseph and Jesus," he exclaimed, rubbing his head
gingerly, "I musta bin' R-R-R-R-R-REALLY drunk! Wait-a-sec,
der's blood..."

He swore. "WHAT THE FOOK!," and slipped and fell on a puddle
of blood and was knocked out again as his head hit a partly
destroyed, albeit elegant mahogany mantelpiece of a large
fireplace. Well, one thing less for December to do.

The writer of this roleplay would just like to say that she deeply
reckons that sometime in the plot, Fortuné simply must have
bitten Taro at some point, because Taro apparently caught
Fortuné's trademark uncoordinatedness.

[Mama Z]

(Do you want me to skip time?)