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Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation -> The Post Office -> dragged on another mile
Post Info TOPIC: dragged on another mile
Ghost


Soul Searching

Posts: 25
Date: Jan 12, 2009
dragged on another mile
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-The night wind felt wonderful in Molochai's caramel colored hair. The Thunderbird he drove was a huge land yacht. It always drove like a fucking monster, but tonight he felt as if he were piloting some great steamboat down a magic river. A river of shimmering asphalt banked by pine forest and thick rioting expanses of kudzu. He was somewhere outside of Rome, coming into the city, and ahead he could make out the lights like a mirage.-

-Face washed in moonlight he had a bottle of whiskey propped between his legs, three quarters empty, and in danger of tipping over. Grabbing the bottle he took a healthy swig, then drove faster. There was business ahead, dangerous business, or so Ghost liked to think. His mellow ghostly eyes narrowed a moment to look at the label of the bottle which read clearly White Horse Whiskey, bought in tribute to the late Dylan Thomas who had died in the White Horse Pub.-

-With the bottle slipped back between his legs he crossed over a bridge that seemed to bow as the weight of the brown T-Bird crossed it. Ghost saw moonlight shimmering on black waters, so he raised his voice in the first song he thought of. Whistling in the darkness. He and the whiskey sang. He with his voice and the whiskey with its somnolent amber song. The moon spread like butter on the black river as he left it behind. -

-When he was there, he just knew it, even though he didn't yet know where here was. Sometimes in his dreams things called to him. He didn't know what went on inside the smooth orb of ivory that housed his brain. Who was born and murdered and resurrected inside that skull. Sometimes he dreamed that he was being told of things that hadn't happened, but the voices were so unclear it made no difference. Still that feeling of being where he was supposed to be lingered as he parked the car and got out.-

-Pushing hands back through the long spikes of his caramel brown hair he let his otherworldly eyes take the look of the place, and he felt that person coming. The one he was waiting for. The mentor he had come here to find. Like called to like or so Baden had always told him, and blood calls to blood. If there was another member of his Court in the city then this was where they would be. Now, he just had to wait and see if those voices had been right.-

-Molochai leaned into the back of the convertible T-Bird and grabbed the brown wool pea coat and slipped it on over his simple white shirt and jeans. Then moving with a strange waltz to his steps he slid onto the cars roof, looking at the watch on his wrist only once before fully settling in to wait.-

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Angel of Death


Seductive Death

Posts: 44
Date: Jan 13, 2009
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~
 
~The La-Z-Boy was pulled up near the fire, swivelled on its underparts to face the flickering flames. In its fully reclined position it seemed a bit like something from a Hallmark commercial. Except that instead of someones white haired grandfather laid out in the chair it was a man who looked more like he'd just left a punk show and passed out in the wrong house, or possibly in the wrong century. But Azrael wasn't passed out or even sleeping, and outside the darkness of night had already drowned out the suns light so he was no longer dead to the world. As he laid in front of the fire he was nothing more than a body. Cold and lifeless as the thing which animated him traveled far away to search out the priest who had been leaving gifts at his doorstep.~

~Traveling beyond the veil was one of his lines most sacredly protected gifts. Something that gave them sight into the spirits of man, and yet it was dangerous. For the time while the soul was departed from the body it left you unprotected and draining power all the time like a battery about to flicker out. But Azrael felt secure in the protection that had been set up among the catacombs. Things that went bump in the night waiting for anyone who might try to infiltrate his happy little lair.~

~With his body there in its usual spot his spirit moved beyond the veil of the ether. Move being a reletive term for what was required. Thought was action in this place with no physical outlet. To think yourself somewhere was to find yourself there. It was the only way to fly. The Eternal Church was there as it was on the physical plane, but he could see the darkness around it. A psychic smear of energy that looked like something that had been wretched up from the bowels of a sick and twisted soul. Things on the plane of non-existence were not always what they seemed. Mostly, they were more. He could see beyond what human eyes would pick up and catch the auras of the damned there in the place of unholy ritual.~

~Beneath the ground he felt the newborn undead in her burial plot. From the earth her soul hummed with un-life like a weak flutter crying up from beneath the ground. She would awaken and rise from her grave soon. Azrael could feel the pulse of power in her blood through his connection on the metaphysical plane, but he had known that she would be there. What he wanted to see, wanted to know, was if there was truth to the fact that Casimir was going to die. Nothing short of the mans death would seal the deal between them. If Casimir lived then any bargain of guardianship for his new chylde would be forfeit. Personally Azrael wasn't looking forward to trooping around a little blondie on the side, he just didn't care quite enough to ever take on a parental role. Besides, who wants a newborn with a penchant for sucking down blood and going on muderous sprees. Whole different kind of house training.~

~Searching the grounds he found two camps closing in on the Church. At the moment he wasn't even sure if they were aware of each other. One was his little victim, the were-tiger Jane, he couldn't smell her in this form but the curve of her neck made his body sigh back in its little locked room. It would be time for nummy bits after this little excercise. Distantly he wondered if Casimir had known that Jane would come to kill him when the priest had made her part of his game. Entering the scene from a different direction was a group that made even his spirit form pause.~

~Familiarity rang through him and he felt a cold chill of white heat pass over him. Slayers. Hunters. If he were more than simple spirit flesh he would have licked his lips and cracked his knuckles and prepared to break off the weakest from the herd to start killing them one by one. His history with their kind spoke for itself of destruction and a demented sense of revenge. From behind them he looked down at the one who appeared to be their leader, their Crone in this day and age. A hand that was little more than a whisper of cold wind brushed against her blonde hair where it flowed over her back. Touching her without touching her his spirit brushed hers so that he could feel the heat and battle frenzy of her soul. Yes Tarakian. Enjoy your victory tonight. But there will be other nights.~

~Casimir would die. Of that he was now sure. A destiny the crazed priest had chosen. It was not Azraels fight and he wouldn't involve himself in trying to save or helping to kill the misguided priest. But he would go to guard the grave of the newborn and make sure she had the chance to claw up from the earth. Drawing his spirit back to its fleshy home he felt the bite of the fires heat as eyes like an icy tundra blinked open to look at the dark and understated room around him. Reaching for the bar glass on the table beside him he drank down the dose of Scotch that he had poured for himself before kicking in the footrest of the recliner so that it popped him up straight and he could stand.~

"Poor Casimir. Hope your life doesn't flash before your eyes mate. Church service, church service, almost got laid, church service. Rest in peace you demented old git."

~Lifting the glass he drank down the last of the brown liquid before setting the glass down and turning to grab his leather jacket off the back of the chair as he turned to go. Black jeans, black boots, a black cotton shirt that fit so tight it moved over him like a second skin. Add the black thigh length leather jacket and he looked ready for a part as piece of night sky number one. Until that radioactive white blonde hair came into view he might actually pass for someone that could hide in a shadowy corridor. Good thing he could draw the shadows, or it might be time to visit a barber. Moving through his catacombs he powered up the supernatural safety nets he had in place for while he was away. Guardians from beyond the grave that would answer only to his calls. If some poor unfortunate sod decided to trespass they'd be lucky to leave with all their bits in place.~

~It wasn't until he reached the street that he felt that other vampire close at hand. Breathing out slowly, lips peeled back so that rows of white teeth could be seen clenched, he let his eyes close a moment. Orienting on the young one he started walking in the direction that he felt the pull coming from. Heliotrope Court wasn't exactly like the others. Their powers were a bit less cut and dry, a bit less bobs your uncle and a lot more sell your soul for a donut. Difficult to pull off in a pinch. It was unusual to find a young one of his clan alone without some sort of trainer watching them. Still he was ready to tell the lad to fuck off until he saw that the boy was sitting on an old convertible T-Bird. Flashing a smile that never reached his cold arctic blue eyes he held out his hand to Ghost.~

"I'm driving. Toss me the keys. We'll figure the rest out on the way."

~Well he had to get to the graveyard, and at least the beast of a car would speed things up. But he'd be damned if the new blood was going to drive. With any luck they'd get there in time to watch the massacre from a safe and hidden distance. Then all they needed to do was wait for Faith to come climbing out of the ground. Catching the keys that were tossed to him he moved around the car to pull open the heavy drivers door. It sqeaked as the springs moved, and he felt the old bucket shake when he sat down. Reaching up with one pale hand to adjust the rear view mirror he looked at the boy beside him with the ghostly pale skin.~

"Ghost huh? I'm Azrael, and tonight I'm going to take you to watch a Master Vampire die. Let's call it a what not to do sort of scenario."

~Cruel laughter spilled from his lips as he brought the rust buckets engine to life with a sputtering roar and pulled away from the sidewalk outside of Bliss. Their line wasn't the type to waste time wondering about stupid things like how he had found him, or why they accepted one another. Their blood was the same, and they were going to collect a new charge. When Azrael thought about that he flashed back onto the image of the Tarakian where she had been hunkered down watching the church with her friends. Her blonde hair looking like something from a magazine ad as it fell across her shoulder and over the hilt of her weapon. Would she die tonight? Would she bleed? Worth it to find out.~




-- Edited by Angel of Death at 16:30, 2009-01-13

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