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Lost to the World

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((Joran.....he's just wow....dense? no....i dunno but it is making me laugh!))

 

Marcy listened with interest trying to follow the conversation, but this young man wasn't making any sense at all. He confused her more than she confused herself which was saying something. When he said goodbye she muttered a soft goodbye then looked down at her scarred, scratched and bruised hands. There isn't anyone of my own class who would see me as someone worth liking. She chuckled at the rather melodramatic thought that she had and downed the rest of her tea wishing for a moment that it was something stronger like what her father drank before he killed himself.

 

But then again, if it was something stronger, she might as well just do what her father did and leave her mother and younger brothers to die in the streets as well. But no. She was going to fight against the world so that she could keep feeding her family and helping them out no matter what it cost. They could tear out her hair, cut her face, break her arms, it didn't matter. She would stop at nothing to get to the top for her family and for all Poorlings that deserved a chance to survive and a chance to better their lives.

 

Her hands were balled into angry fists as she stood up and roughly packed her stuff into her bag and decided that she desperately needed to go to the music hall. Sometimes people would play their music with their doors open allowing her to hear the beautiful vibrations of wood striking string. There would be someplace where she could really hide herself in a back room. Her things were packed quickly and she walked back inside the cafe her head bowed. When she placed the glass cup on the counter, she placed what change she could spare on the counter. The woman behind the counter was a struggling Middle who was having to work on her own until the courts finished in accusing her husband of abuse. "Thanks Misty. The tea was really good today." she said with a faint smile that for once, reached her eyes.

 

In front of Marcy was at least twenty dollars. It would be enough to feed Misty's two children and herself at least twice if they bought the right foods...possibly more. "Thank you Marcy...strange...Mercy, Marcy." the older woman said as she gently patted Marcy's hand before the young girl withdrew. She didn't make a show of it, in fact she did her best to hide the money as she passed it to Misty.

 

With that taken care of, Marcy walked out of the building and to her right. In the middle of most of the buildings, there stood a large, five story building. It was built by some eccentric artist who attempted to make the building look like a flowing treble cleff on the outside but to Marcy it looked like a black turd. With slightly pained steps, she made her way to the inside of the building relishing in the smell of piano books, freshly opened strings, wood oil, and some paint. Her heart and soul was music and this building embodied that...except for the turd part.

 

It took her a few moments, and a bit of coercion to find a room towards the back of the first floor that had an available, in tune, piano. When she thanked the man, she sat down at the piano leaving the door slightly ajar. At first she thought about playing something ancient like Bach or Beetohven, but then decided to play something that they now considered classical. It was a piece called Sanctuary by Gary Girouard. It was a song that spoke to her every being. It held some sad, some uplifting and some that were just moving.

 

As her fingers settled onto the keys, she struck the first few measures out. her hands stung as she reopened her cuts in the movements of her hands, but she didn't care. Just knowing that when she couldn't pour her heart out to someone, she could pour it out into her music and that she did. If one were to hear her playing, the music would almost seem to be speaking her sorrows, frustrations, and angers as she continued to play.

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Johan rose from his seat as Xander left to follow Joran and solve the problems of society between the rich and the poor. Marcy if he recognized the voice, now SHE was interesting. He had a running list of the number of beatings she took, most of them avoidable, on a weekly basis. He almost imagined she must be a werewolf or vampyre just to be able to survive, but unfortunately she seemed to be just what she appeared, a poorling with an extra slice of stubborn and determination. It was people like her... if given power, that shaped the world.

 

He walked towards the back, leaving the table he had shared with Xander and moving back to another figure he had on his list of people to talk to today, Rals. And why not? Why not talk to everyone... drop hints, poke and poke some more... he'd recorded habits, routes, rituals, the like... now he wanted others to start keeping an eye on him instead. But he knew something else was about to happen, something he didn't want to miss... Oh how tearing! Do I go and indulge my guilty pleasures... or stay and indulge my evil ambition? oh I'm a monster! haha!

 

"Rals!" He sighed, feigning fatigue as he walked slowly past. "If you read that book any more often you'll transform into a vampire and grow nasty long teeth, and want to drink blood, and go all goo goo at the full moon and what not... or is that something else?" He suddenly appeared to be pulled towards the rear exit. "I really did want to talk with you I did, you must forgive me I'd been working up the courage all week, but I've gotta RUN!"

 

With that he was out the back door and making full vampiric speed for the tree line. Oh it felt so good to stop limiting himself to a human existence! Rals may have watched or noticed but who cares? She's got her own secrets, and no mortal would have been able to keep up with him anyways, or recognize him at this speed... so who cares what they saw!

 

She must certainly think I'm weird now... I don't recall ever having even introduced myself before, I do wonder what impression I left her with...

 

He made it to the trees and stopped. The blood rushed through his body, oh it felt so good! Making sure he was in far enough not to be seen he lifted his cane and took a swing at a six inch sapling, smashing through it with his full force. "Mmmmmm! Gosh that's a rush...." He sighed heavily and took off again, rushing through the forest at top speed until he made it all the way around campus and then slowed, walking out of the woods as if nothing had happened. Before him stood the music hall, and there, Marcy was, entering it.

 

He took a deep breath, savoring what was about to happen even as he followed her at a good distance, waiting for her to enter, wander around, find a room, and sit in it. Only then did he dare get closer. She began to play, and knowing she would continue for a while... as she did before... the last few times he'd snuck in to listen. He sat just outside the door, leaning his back against it as he listened to the notes.

 

Johan could play the piano, the flute, the lyre, and a couple of other instruments that had been lost to the trials of time. But he didn't play like Marcy played, no one on campus did. She wasn't flawless, she wasn't even good enough to compete nationally... but she had such heart that she poured into her music. It was like... drinking blood, to listen to her play.

 

Johan closed his eyes and focused only on the sounds that came from the room behind him. Normally he'd be ready to hop up and run if she suddenly stopped, but today he was relaxed. Today he just didn't care. She could think what she liked, and if she caught him... well at least it would give him an excuse to say something.

 

He didn't listen only to the music though. He also listened to her heart, to her scent, to everything. Human blood tasted sweetest from people like Marcy, and he fantasized about the taste as she played, allowing his fangs to grow quickly out of the painful shape he kept them in and into their natural form... The pain of filing them down later would be totally worth feeling the vibrations of the music flow through them.

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Marcy listened to the music flowing out of the piano in front of her. Each measure was so difficult that her fingers soon became sore from the passionate pounding that she gave to the piano. But when she stopped she felt herself choking up from frustration and anger that had happened since the beginning of the semester. She could have avoided things, but she wouldn't be oppressed. She wanted the United States to be righted so that everyone could once again be equal instead of so far apart that even the youngest would die from a lack of food.

 

"Why...." she muttered to herself and in her anger banged out a harsh chord that made her ears sting at the sound. Once she let the sound disappear and sighed. Too many questions, too few answers. The world was wrong and there had to be a way to right it....there had to be. She wasn't someone that could easily get into the world of the government...but if she became better than the heads of Veterinary Medicine, then she might be able to do something at least in the educational system.

 

"Okay, easy Marce...take a deep breath and control yourself." she said quietly to herself before she decided to get another piece out of her backpack. This time it was the full length version of Moonlight Sonata with a few lighter pieces on the heels of that one. When she played, there were mistakes throughout. Her left hand was all too often harder than her right despite her being a right handed person. It didn't matter though when she felt herslef enjoying the deeper notes of the music.

 

Time seemed to fly for her and before she knew it, it was way past the time that she spent at the piano which meant that it would soon be time for her to go back to the top floor of the dorms for her and spend the rest of her day away from anyone else. To be honest, she wanted to go hiking through the forest but without the accompaniment of a Richie or a Middle, she wasn't allowed outside of her dorms for any reason other than scholastic or nutritional reasons.

 

By the time that she put her music together, she had turned around and realized an elbow sticking out in front of the glass door. Her brows furrowed together as she walked towards the elbow and peered out around the corner of the door. A small groan of frustration caught in her throat as she beheld a Richie and none other than one of top ten wealthiest on the entire campus. What luck.

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What was a girl like Marcy trying to accomplish anyways? Something big for sure, something beyond the dreams of richies or even middles. Something so impossible that anyone else would probably laugh. Johan knew that feeling. His mother had been very poor before his father... took her... There was a time when Johan was at the bottom of the food chain, before he killed his family and his siblings. There was a time when he spent every hour of every day working with the poor and the downtrodden, improving their lives and winning their hearts, building from ashes an empire where everyone was strong and everyone had lack of need.

 

But those times were not these times. That was hundreds of years ago, when politics were very different and one could just go about doing as they pleased if they had the power. Conquer kingdoms, build empires... not today. Even so, Marcy reminded him of his mother, just a bit, and of all his subjects... before they had come to call him emperor.

 

He was lost in thought when he heard Marcy give off a telling moan... he had been discovered. Johan was surprised that the first thought that entered his mind was shame... shame because he knew exactly what she was probably thinking. He was a richie in her mind, one of the wealthiest on campus even though he'd never really crossed her path for good or ill. He stood out, his choice of clothing, his unusual weird habits, even in avoiding people he stood out in the minds of those who were forced to watch to survive, to know where was safe and who was danger... she no doubt had a file in him somewhere in her mind for that very reason.

 

He stood up, using his cane to help him to his feet and did a proper about-face and a step to the left, now staring at her through the glass door. Her frame was strong, even though it was bony for lack of nutrition, it was determined... and her gaze... or glare was the more accurate description, made it obvious to him that she wasn't interested in being intimidated. Good.

 

"Caught red handed," he said, noticing her raw red hands and gaining yet another appreciation for her playing ability in such a condition. He pulled the door open and stood in the doorway. "I'm sorry but most things in life that mean anything can't be bought with money, such as the emotion in your piano style, or the smile of a young child, or the love of parents." It wasn't an apology so much as it was a fact.

 

He had planned the day out... but talking to her... well none of what he had planned to say seemed to make much sense at this point and he hated reciting things. Still, it never hurt to be prepared.

 

"Marcy, Marcy the masterful Pianist, Marcy the fool, Marcy the Poorling, Marcy the determined, Marcy the world changer," he pulled two things out of a pocket, one was an antibacterial regenerate, extremely expensive gel that caused tissue regeneration on skin surfaces with no noticeable scaring. All the rage among celebrities. The second item was a plain white handkerchief. "Marcy the girl who plays with bloodied hands, now that seems to sum up all of your in one statement, capturing everything from your determination to your passion."

 

He wrapped the gel up in the handkerchief and tossed it to her. "Dampen the cloth with the gel and apply it to both hands. I'm not asking."

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Marcy felt a need to cover herself underneath the penetrating gaze of the man in front of her, but refused that urge. When he mentioned something about her hands being bloodied she found that she really had split her hands and they had bloodied. Hmph....Red handed. It made sense and actually made her smile at the comment. When they said that when you have a passion for something, you can kill yourself for it, they weren't kidding. The idea amused her somewhat but she had to stay focused, or risk having to go to the doctors which she had never been to for certain reasons.

 

The odd thing was that he stated something about those things that you cannot pay for. To the first she felt rather flattered, but the latter two were stinging since she had seen the smile of a child even as it starved and felt a mothers love even when she was on her death bed. That was the only assimilation that she had to those two other objects that Johan had mentioned.

 

Masterful, a fool, poorling determined...but World Changer? Now there was a title that she would enjoy living up to. The World Changer. Ha! Something that she had always wanted to be and to do was change the entire world for the better...maybe get back at a few Richies and Middles and then live in peace for the rest of eternity. His final conclusion of her though sounded more like a book title than anything else. Marcy: The Girl Who Plays With Bloodied Hands. That would be an incredibly book at least in her opinion. It could be a murder book...or...

 

Slight irritation crossed her emaciated features when her thoughts were interrupted by him tossing her a handkerchief. She caught it with one hand and allowed a corner of the handkerchief to fall so that she could see what the gel was. He had complimented her, insulted her, and now he was helping her? What was today? National help the Poorling day?

 

She didn't voice her thoughts but instead looked harshly at Johan then back at the gel with her one good eye. From what she could see it was the most expensive gel in the entire world. It was used to heal wounds in a matter of a day or so with just one application. It had all sorts of ingredients in it from collagen, to lavender, to more advanced materials that she had yet to learn the names of.

 

"Let me guess. Taking care of my hands just so you can hear me play again?" she said even as she begrudgingly, and somewhat gratefully dampened the soft handkerchief and applied the gel to her hands, it would be a little hard to hold anything until it dried, but at least her hands would heal faster than normal. When she was finished, she passed the gel and hanky back to him. Once she was sure that the door was closed behind her she looked up at Johan her harsh eyes still waiting for an answer.

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Johan watched as she used the gel. She asked him if he had given it to her just so that he could hear her play again and sooner than later.

 

"No," he said truthfully. The truth of the matter was... as he took the handkerchief back from her, that he had done this solely so that he could own a piece of cloth, doused in the scent of her blood. "I did so in order that you could play again, soon, whether I'm here or not." A half truth, but it's not like he'd ever admit the real reason to her. yeah... that would put my creepy stalker rating through the roof and be misinterpreted on so many levels...

 

"I'm not from the US, I abide by most of it's laws most of the time out of respect for this school and my education. My wealth restricts me from doing many things I would otherwise enjoy, one that it will not keep from me is my choice of who I wish to speak with, help, or hurt, no matter what our differences in economic standing." He shrugged.

 

"You get beat up a lot, and you take it, and don't back down. Some would call that admirable, but it's stupid and prideful and nothing more." His eyes had a dangerous gleam in them. "When you are surrounded by your enemies on all sides and are powerless against them, the best option is to run and hide as often as possible, or find a shield to hide behind. Build strength in secret... and turn the tables when you've changed the odds to your favor." Johan spoke it like he took it to heart, and he did... it was how he had become emperor of a nation, it was how he would take control of this school, it was how he would rule the world. Unless he got bored that is, then he'd go onto do something else.

 

"I watch people, I watch you, I watch you watch people." Johan smiled slightly, though not showing his fangs or teeth. "But my watching is almost over, and soon I will begin doing."

 

He gave her a stern look "You won't survive another year, regardless of how tough you are. Bullies that are sanctioned by law do not give up and go away when you stand back up again after a beating. They do something worse the next time, and the next, and then, you die. I don't want you to die, because I like the way you see the world. I'm going to make something happen in this school, and I want you to see everything as it plays out, because I find you to be one of the most interesting people that I've watched. And I want to see your reaction, after that... you can go jump off a cliff if you like. But until then, you're not allowed to die."

 

He turned and moved out of the doorway so that she could step past him if she liked. "There's a party tomorrow night, I'm short a female companion, and again, I'm not asking."

Edited by Rakashua

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Crazy...this man was really freakin crazy! Who did he think he was giving her advice? But...but still... He wanted her to be able to play again whether or not he was there but why? Why did he want to do that? Who would want to do that for a Poorling and her of all people?

 

When he started to explain that he wasn't from the US, she slightly smirked because it was more than obvious that he wasn't kidding. But, when he mentioned his education, and his wealth, she felt somewhat resentful that he would say something like that, but he did confess that he didn't like the way that the government was. Just the idea of someone thinking the same thing, at least a little, gave her more hope. This man gave hope....gave HER hope above all things.

 

The Hope was soon replaced by anger towards him as he called her stupid and prideful even if he WAS speaking the blatant truth. The warning danger in his eyes told her that she was to listen. For some reason, she felt that this man could harm her even more than any other had ever harmed her if he but lifted his finger. It sent chills down her spine, but also made her rather curious as to who this man really was.

 

What he said about hiding made sense, but it went against her grain. Hiding was cowardly...something that you did if you couldn't fight back...but then again, if you were hiding and building up forces like he said, Genius. She thought to herself and her wheels started to turn.

 

Watching you watch people. Creepy Stalker... hahaha...stalker with odd clothing...hahahahahaha! She did her best not to laugh at what he said about watching her, but he said that he would start acting...acting upon what? What would he be doing? And then she caught it. He planned to do what she so desperately longed to do. Her eyes didn't widen, that would hurt too much, but instead a gleam of acknowledgment and wonder crept in behind the hurt and anger. To see a difference in her expression was something that not many could induce or see.

 

Marcy was awed at what he said next. he didn't want her to die because he found her interesting. Wait Marce....cool your top. He's just some other Richie who wants to give you sweet words to make you do what he wants. Question him in your mind. Question his motives...don't take it at face value. If he is the one wanting to do something with the school, then wouldn't he want you to be his 'servant'? Ha! The only way that I would want to watch him is if he was either beside me, or obeying me.

 

The one good thing about having an injured face was that it easily hid everything besides pain. Unless he was some sort of microexpressions person, then it would be difficult for him to see her expressions; at least that is what she thought.

 

"The nearest cliff is over one hundred miles from here. Believe me." she said as she walked by him out of the door her head bent in thought. She did her best to remove the steel from her voice for he WAS sacrificing his appearance for a time to allow her to be seen with him at a dance. "For dieing, that is something that I cannot control." She turned around a slightly daring look in her eyes. She had a challenging personality like that of a Wild Mustang. Never wanting to be tamed, always wanting to be able to run free. It was one of the most dangerous personalities to have especially when you are young and still ignorant, despite the harshness of life.

 

"A female companion huh?" she said and turned back around hating the fact that he wasn't asking her, he was telling her. To be bound by law, to be bound by another human being was the worst feeling to have. "Fine. But I'm not sure you want one looking like me at the moment." she said with a snicker as she turned aruond allowing most of the right side of her face to be uncovered. It had stopped bleeding, but she had left it alone to avoid the bathrooms. That was one of the most dangerous places especially with the rather rough and tumble girls that were around. Her eye wasn't swollen shut, but it was close. The blow had been further back on her head making her hair just look like it was extra voluminous but where it appeared past her hairline, her skin had been split in several areas.

 

"But, as a Richie, I have to defer to your will." she said almost spitting the words out.

 

 

 

Xander looked around the cafe now that everyone was gone and allowed himself to relax. But that was to be soon interrupted as the gruff professor Aloysius von Voght walked up to him and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. The man was shorter than Xander, but he was definitely stronger. He was several hundred years older than Xander allowing his muscles to have grown to an impressive strength without making him look like the competitors for lifting weights. "Sir?" he asked as he looked back at the unsmiling face.

 

"What was going on?" The slight German accent came across in a formal manner as the odler man sat down in the chair across from Xander. "Do you even know? I have been watching that Poorling. She is being influenced by hatred and pain becuase of her own stupidity. Have you tried showing her kindness?"

 

Xander raised an eyebrow at the sudden flow of questions.

 

"She's one of my best students in Biology and Calculus."

 

"Like that makes sense Aloysius." Xander replied and then folded his fingers behind his head trying to get rid of the dog smell around him. " She challenged Dan again today. if she isn't careful then she could be killed within the next few semesters...if not this semester. But it could be worse than that sir.... I've heard talk of what they plan on doing to her and if they do it and succeed...she would have to abort." He said leaning forward with his elbows in the table.

 

Aloysius was shocked by the revelation and found himself hating all of the Richies in the world for a moment. "If only we could reverse time! She would have been perfect in fighting against this entire thing if she had only been born over a hundred years ago!" Aloysius leaned abck in his chair looking down at the table. "I will need to speak with Zebulon because the movements of our opposition are hidden from us. There are rumors from Victoria and Rollo's Pack that there are foreign scents of other Werewolves...it's becoming time for us to make ourselves know...at least maybe. I don't know. I am still young."

 

"Young? Then what am I? A swaddling babe? Ha!" Xander chuckled for a moment then became gravely serious. "We need to do something."

 

Aloysius nodded and then jumped as he felt a kiss on his cheek.

 

"Aloysius and my son talking?! How wonderful!" Came Montague's voice. It was a slightly high pitched voice that grated Aloysius nerves and the fact that the other man had kissed him just to embarass him was rather annoying.

 

"Hello father." Xander said as he tried to hide his laughter...but that was impossible and soon even Aloysius laughed to relieve the tension.

 

"Xander, have you found a date for tomorrow night?" Montague asked as he sat down next to Aloysius.

 

"No. And I don't plan to go really unless something happens to where I need to go by Zebulon's orders."

 

"Or by mine son. Now, you need to socialize!"

 

"Or not....socializing is, well, it's somewhat annoying." he said with a chuckle.

 

All three of them allowed their accents which they had learned to control, to come out as they spoke comfortably with each other about what had been going on recently and who was going to speak with their busy leader.

 

((Xander has an Old English Accent, Montague = French, Aloysius = German))

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With Carmandy's kick, Graham felt himself stumble and trip until he landed on the carpet, his hands hitting the floor first to brace himself, his three set fingers, well, becoming un-set. Scrambling to his feet, he clutched his hand to his stomach, grimacing. It was bad enough when they were broken on their own, let alone falling and dislodging them from their recently set position. His chin lifted up and he looked at Carmandy before sighing, closing his eyes, and tilting his head back down again so what was mostly seen of him was his mess of dark hair. Perhaps Carmandy was right. Maybe she was just being nice and really wasn't meaning anything at all and Graham, who was wallowing in self-pity, assumed the worst of her. Oh god, if that was the case he must've seemed like a real ass.

 

He watched as she walked quickly away. There was no way he could catch up and apologize now, no way. Inwardly kicking himself, he cursed and looked around. There was a party tomorrow, he remembered. And if he didn't go... If he didn't have a female to strut with... Well, he might as well be a Poorling. But he didn't even like dancing and he wasn't really in love with any of these girls. They were all the same, it seemed. Alright, there were exceptions, but most of them were boring, cheerleader type girls.

 

There was that girl who had been reading Dracula. Perhaps she had a more interesting way of looking at things, but maybe it'd be better to approach her some other time. It seemed this place had cleared out a little bit, and without all the talking around him Graham would feel nervous and besides, he wanted to get to know her before he actually asked her to something, especially if he didn't even want to go.

 

Standing up, he started over to Joran. This man had just picked up two girls, but that wasn't really why Ridell was going over there. It was more because Joran seemed to know the details and, yes, Graham could use some help if he really had to come. The other man was over reading a menu, his head in his hands. He seemed to be musing over something, and Graham wasn't sure he wanted to disturb him. But he cleared his throat and tapped the floor with his foot, his brows knit in concern as he tried to call forth this man's attention.

 

"Erm... Joran, right? I need some help. First off, do I come across as self-pitying? How would I fix that? I don't want to be some simpering, whiny little brat. And there's a party, right? Well, about that..." he murmured, embarrassed but trying to get straight to the point. "You seem outspoken, and I'm not. I don't like talking, but I guess I'm supposed to, according to the behavior of everyone else. I'm better at observing than carrying out the actions," Graham muttered, raising his hands in steeple-position to his lips, his eyes closing for a moment in thought.

 

He didn't really want to go to the party, but it was expected and he kind of needed a girl to go with him, but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to choose someone he liked, which currently was no one, or if he was supposed to ask one of the pretty-but-boring girls. Joran would probably know, he was fairly good looking and had gotten himself not one, but two dates. Ridell didn't really even like these girls, and wouldn't have taken anyone if he could get away with it. But he had already been called "gay" once because he didn't have a girlfriend. What difference would it make if he was, even though he wasn't? Apparently to these people it was a bad thing.

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((hahahaha! Poor Graham))

 

Carmandy continued to walk on until she watched as Marcy walked off after Xander rescued the poor girl. It was good and now she was going to play music. That was even better! usually she didn't play this late, but she did have a curfew so Carmandy wondered how that one was going to work out. But before she could think any further, she watched as two of the older Vampyres walked over to Xander and began speaking in low hushed voices. What she caught was a little concerning, but oh well, things would work out especially with elders as old as Zebulon and Jamila. Her parents were willing learners and had learned much in their time with the leaders so they would be willing to help figure out if anything could be done.

 

Carmandy sighed as she sat down again on the other side of the cafe. It was really annoying that her whole morning had started off in such a troubling manner. Oh so very, very annoying. And now her afternoon? GREAT! What she needed to do was hunt. She needed to go out with maybe one or two other wolves and hunt until she couldn't hunt anymore. To feel the earth beneath her paws and tearing with each dig of her sharp claws. To smell the earth in her nose and the fear of a deer trying to run away.

 

Carmandy had to stop herself as her hair seemed to lengthen for a moment making one or two look strangely at her. She ignored them however and stayed wehre she was. she was going to read now and if anyone interrupted her, she would either snap, growl, or depending on the person, jump, and run out the door dragging them along. But instead of any of those things, the next two people to sit near her were her parents.

 

The two dark eyed, dark haired adults stared at their daughter for a moment before she looked up, her eyes suddenly hard like that of her mothers and fathers. "Hello." she said in a calm and even tone.

 

"Hello Carmandy. How is your book?" they asked in unison.

 

"It is good. Rather interesting at the moment, but nothing that cannot wait." She replied and sat the book down on the table, forgetting to put a marker in it.

 

"Good. We need to speak with you about the rumors that we have been hearing." her father stated calmly not moving his eyes from his daughters. It was strange he thought momentarily. His wife's eyes were a cinnimon brown, his a dark brown and his daughters were golden. Only one of their other children...he stopped his thoughts in their tracks as Carmandy raised her hand.

 

"I know. Rumors of foreign wolves in our territory. Not only that, but seeming to be rather threatening from what I could glean." Carmandy said and looked at her brother who seemed to barely bridle at the comment.

 

"How did you know?" She asked with a hint of anger.

 

"I knew because I heard Montague and Aloysius speaking about it with Alexander."

 

"Oh well then. We have nothing more to say. Good evening." Her parents stood up and walked away without another word to her.

 

Carmandy didn't sigh until she was sure that they were gone and looked at her book through a slight mist. With a single blink that mist was gone and she started to read again.

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{{Since I have a little extra time, I'm posting this. Expect a bit of fail.}}

 

"My apologies," Joran said excitedly but quietly, "I'm from the Nordic lands, I'm not American. I...'ve worked pretty hard to get rid of my own accent. My family is fairly important in Greenland and Iceland." Joran shrugged, apparently out of words to say. Rals gave this a thought. She had never met a Vampire from those two places, nor heard of any important families, but then again, she was from Australia, which was pratically on the far side of the planet.

"If you'll excuse me," Joran said to Rals, standing and giving a polite head-bow and turning towards the group of Richies harassing the Poorling. "Watch this." he said, and Rals sighed. She had no opinion about the class-system, but she couldn't help feeling stirs of pity about the treatment. Once the government collapsed, maybe she would have some freedom to treat the lower classes as equals. The current system was disgusting, but there were more important things at hand, like trying not to get caught by the werewolf pack stationed here.

 

The little scene ensued, and Rals sighed at the mention of texting. She didn't really get the concept of these 'cellphones' or whatever new gadgets the Americans were coming up with every 15 seconds. Texting? Sounded like typing. Technology wasn't her strong suit. I'd take a copy of 'The Odyssey' any day over these gadgets. They look way too fragile to be of any use. Joran was acting like a total pretty boy; a standard Richie. Then again, Joran could be acting, but Rals didn't know. She barely knew the guy, anyway.

 

"Rals!" A strange man passed by her sighing, feigning fatigue as he walked slowly past. "If you read that book any more often you'll transform into a vampire and grow nasty long teeth, and want to drink blood, and go all goo goo at the full moon and what not... or is that something else?" He suddenly appeared to be pulled towards the rear exit. "I really did want to talk with you I did, you must forgive me I'd been working up the courage all week, but I've gotta RUN!"

 

Uh..................

 

Some strange man had just walked up to her, commented about her book, and then ran off. And what was with that speed? Could he be a Vampire as well? Are all these Vampires crazy stalker people? Wait, calm down. Let's get the facts straight.

Person #1- Joran, who was caught reading over your shoulder. He also happens to be a non-American vampire.

Person #2- Unidentified male, who you've never seen before, noticed as he ran past. He knows your name, and he can run like a vampire.

Conclusion: America is the weirdest place on Earth.

 

Having come to a suitable conclusion, Rals took a deep breath to calm herself down. She would deal with that other person (besides Joran) at a later time. She just needed to get used to this crazy place. Settling herself more comfortably in her chair, Rals sighed and opened up her book again. She doubted even Dracula could return her to her past state of mind, so she stood up again and walked out of the cafe, pointedly glaring at Carmandy on her way out. Rals just needed to get back among her pack, where she was secure and she didn't have to hide. They would definitely go hunting tonight.

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Johan smiled hugely at Marcy, but made sure to keep his lips from parting as he did so, no sense in showing off his fangs for no apparent reason.

 

She was just as he imagined, tough, determined, and not intimidated by him. Though he could sense that she respected him a little, and he had managed to make it onto her good side... at least in part. Who knows she may even be enamored with him, he couldn't read her face, speaking of which she was talking about that... and showing him the bruising that he could already smell plain as day. It was taking everything he had to keep from taking a deep breath to capture more of the scent of her blood... that would wait until later, when he was alone.

 

"Well you see, I'm a very shy boy with no sense for talking to girls, but I do watch and I do plan, and I did plan for that too..." He pulled a vial out of his pocket, it was unmarked and contained a blue liquid. "This," he said, "is like the gel, but it works on the inside of your body, specifically areas of increased blood flow such as bruising or bone fractures. It's got that nasty fake cherry flavor... but it'll have you cleaned up by tomorrow evening, provided that you don't pick any fights." He placed it in her palm and placed her other hand on top of it.

 

"This I won't force you to drink if you don't want to. I'll take you to the party either way, but your dress would appear much more beautiful if complimented by your face's normal skin tone." He gave no further explanation and turned away from her, heading out of the room and into the hallway, towards the nearest exit. "I'll pick you up at7pm, don't be late, girl who plays with bloodied hands..."

 

He couldn't force her to drink the bottle, it was one tradition that he never would disobey. A vampire's blood had interesting effects on a human. Healing, increased strength and speed, even clarity of mind. Like a drug there was also a withdrawal afterwards. Fortunately there was so little in the vial that she wouldn't have a bad withdrawal, unless of course she was already a ghoul addicted to the stuff... and he knew she wasn't.

 

He had prepared it this morning, knowing he'd probably see her in the next day or two and invite her to the party. The dress had already been dropped off in her room and would be guarded until she came back by a silent observer as he requested. The vial contained a 100ml of his blood and 100ml of cherry flavoring, also ten ml of blue food coloring. Whatever it would taste like... it wouldn't be the taste of millennium old blood...

 

Now... as long as she simply dismissed all of the other weird effects to being part of the drug... no one will be the wiser. Still... he would wait out the night and make sure she didn't do anything crazy... He had been careful to extract all of his poison ten years ago, so at least she wouldn't turn into a vampire... speaking of which... hehehe... that reminded him of another fun idea he had planned... there were so many.

 

 

 

Edited by Rakashua

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((X-D so many characters making me laugh now. Poor Rals being stalked all over the place...))

 

Maybe girls have to look all cute and innocent, or like they've done something wrong, or like they're injured... that seems to get Dan's attention at least. But whiny girls seem kinda troublesome, unless they're super cute and short too. Nah, not too short, or else they--

 

Joran stopped his thoughts when he noticed someone tapping their foot nearby. He blinked once and turned his head quickly to look at the newcomer, eyes slightly concerned and quite curious. This was the look that he gave most people he didn't know; the concern was to let them know he was listening, and the curiosity was natural. He was a bit surprised when he recognized Graham. His eyes immediately traveled to Graham's hand, which was quite red.

 

But he cleared his throat and tapped the floor with his foot, his brows knit in concern as he tried to call forth this man's attention.

 

"Erm... Joran, right? I need some help. First off, do I come across as self-pitying? How would I fix that? I don't want to be some simpering, whiny little brat. And there's a party, right? Well, about that..."

 

By now Joran had removed his chin from his hands and was standing straight, assessing Graham's questions. "You seem outspoken, and I'm not. I don't like talking, but I guess I'm supposed to, according to the behavior of everyone else. I'm better at observing than carrying out the actions."

 

For a moment Joran just stared, but then a small smile crept over his face. "Ahh, you're Graham, right? Right, well! Glad to see you've decided to get the hang of social interaction! Not that you're bad at interacting, not at all! Heard you bloodied some guy's nose today, not bad for a start. Anyway, let's say you want really truthful answers..."

 

He paused a moment, as though thinking over his answers once more. "Yeah, you come off as self-pitying, but you're not the only person on campus that does. There are a whole bunch of you people who stand off in corners, you're just too isolated to meet each other." He said this as though it was a fact, not in an insulting or belittling way. "The only reason you seem self-pitying is because every time you do something wrong, you shrink back from it, er, that's what it looks like to me... and after you do that, you shirk off any help anyone offers and scoff at yourself for doing it. Take some pride in what you do! Who cares if your parents did something awful? They're not you. Okay, that probably didn't apply to you and made no sense... But! Next time you smash someone's nose, laugh at em! Er, something like that. Maybe just smile and walk away. I'd laugh, but I'm not sure why I'd be punching someone's nose in the first place... hmm, only thing that would make me do that is if they spilled ketchup in my hair again..."

 

Joran looked as though he had confused himself, and he paused another moment to remember what other questions had been asked. Then his face brightened and a smile came over it. "Don't wanna seem like a jerk, eh? You're a nice guy, Graham, but it's all about communication. Choosing the right girl for the party is extremely important, and a guy who looks like you can probably get any of em to go with you if you use the right words! You've gotta think of several things; the girl has to be interested in you, interested in the party and interested in looking interested! Or even better, not interested in any of the three but still willing to dance! Got any girl in mind?"

 

The scents and smiles of a thousand girls passed through Joran's mind. His eyes studied Graham, as though trying to figure him out; what kind of girl would Graham go well with? Probably some girl whose in the same situation as him... heheh, maybe Rals! I bet she doesn't want to go to the dance with anyone but she probably has to because of her social position! Bet she dances well too, being short and all.

 

"I think I know just the person!" Joran said suddenly. He was grinning now, rather oblivious to the fact that his pointed canine teeth were showing. It wasn't like they were any longer than a normal humans (for he wasn't old enough that they had matured), they were just pointy. "Stay here and think about it, I'll be right back!"

 

Joran spun on his heel and darted off, not at supernatural speeds but not slowly at all. He raced back to the other side of the cafe, only to find that Rals was no longer sitting in her chair. He took two quick sniffs of the air and caught her scent; she wasn't long gone. He had only just exited the cafe when he saw her.

 

"Hey, Rals!" He called, waving an arm to get her attention. He jogged towards her to catch up. He hadn't even reached her when he asked the question; "Do you have a dance for the party tomorrow night?"

Edited by LadyNatasha

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Why didn't he smile? Why didn't he show his teeth, was he self conscious of them? It was odd. But oh well. He seemed to be processing something but it was soon gone when he said that he was shy. that was very, VERY hard for her to believe. Him? Shy? It was like calling a wolf a lion. It just didn't click and didn't work at all. When he said that he watched and planned for things...he had planned for her face.

 

How could a man plan for something like her face? What had he done was watched her over and over again picking up on her every habit. How else could he have planned for something like that? Oh well, it was done but it did bother her that she was seemingly that predictable. Meh. She had to be that structured for the most part.

 

When he reached down to her hand she flinched involuntarily and almost pulled away, but when he explained what the vial was, she allowed him to place it in her hand. The warmth of his hands over hers was something that caused her to frown as she looked at the vial between her fingers. He saw something in her that he enjoyed having around. With a Richie like him, she may just be able to do things in the world and destroy the US once and for all...

 

Before she could respond, the man was gone around the corner and beyond her sight and reach. "Thanks." she muttered underneath her breath then realized that she didn't even know what his name was. With a sigh, Marcy slowly walked back to where she needed to get her school ID from and waited there while she watched two officers approach her. It was always, always two. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

"Good evening officers." she said in a normal tone. They were really the only people that she respected for most of them were Middles who had struggled from the Poorling rank to save their families.

 

"Good evening Marcy." they said and then showed her to their vehicle which would safely take her to the dorm rooms. Luckily for her, they drove smoothly along the blacktop until they came to a lone building that was able to overlook a small groomed garden that was placed in the middle of the forest, with a clearing that developed into a small valley where she could see everything around her.

 

"Have a good evening Marcy. Oh and since tomorrow starts the weekend, do you have any plans?" he asked her.

 

"Yeah I do actually...I was invited to a party by this weird looking guy...a Richie too."

 

The surprise on the officers face was evident and then he frowned as he thought of the character that she would be talking about because only one man allowed for the description of weird. He showed her a few photos and ended with the picture of Johan.

 

"yeah! That's him....how did you know?" she asked him and looked at the picture for a moment longer.

 

"Weird. It's the only word to describe him. His name is Johan Tatar Hawk. Be careful around him."

 

"As if. he's the only one who hasn't it me today." she said with a wry, halfway grin. "But thanks. Good night." she said and shut the door once the officer left. She made sure to lock all five locks on her door before turning around and setting her stuff down on a pristine couch. In front of it stood a finished wood coffee table with a few magazines and drawings placed on it. If one were to enter her room, you wouldn't see anything other than the afore mentioned objects as well as a kitchen, bedroom with only a bed, nightstand and lamp, and the living only had a stereo, and piano. It was a small building, but it served what she needed.

 

When she walked around the corner to her bathroom she allowed herself a deep breath of the crisp clean air that was always in her house. She slipped out of her clothes as quickly as she could and stepped into the shower allowing the warm water to relax her aching muscles that had tensed throughout the day. In her hand, she still clasped the blue vial and examined it wondering what exactly it was.

 

In her mind, she couldn't think of why he would want to poison her. He had already helped her out once today so why shouldn't he help her again? besides, if she died, she died. Her brothers would have to learn sometime how to fend for themselves. With a sigh she opened the vial and sniffed the mixture. It didn't smell good. That cherry stuff made it smell horrible, but if it worked, it would help her somehow and that was a blessing. "Bottom's up."

 

She didn't sip the mixture, instead she gulped it down quickly and shuddered at the taste. "Gross." she muttered and rinsed out the vial then placed it in the sink. Her shower was short after that and she dried off but noticed a sudden decrease in the pain in her legs and face. It was gone. As she stopped she also realized that her head was starting to feel a little bit fuzzy like that of some sort of narcotic. She shook out her head and went into her room to get on some shorts and a thick sweater. On her feet were warm boots that would keep her feet nice and warm.

 

As she walked out of her bathroom, she looked at the kitchen counter to notice a large box there. It was wrapped with a black bow and it didn't help that there were small sparkles on the bow. They made her dizzy as she approached and started to untie the bow. Everything seemed to stick out with crystal clear precision which was causing her to become rather suspicious of the liquid that she had just taken. She blinked a few times as she lifted the top wondering why it felt lighter than a feather when it should really feel like there was more weight to it.

 

There was a card on the top of the tissue paper with her name on the front of it in large, beautiful letters. When she opened there was a note on beautiful paper that smelled somewhat like a light musk. However, when she stopped to think about it, she wouldn't have normally been able to smell anything that finite...what was going on?

 

With surprise she almost jumped back from the package after reading who it was from. How had he known that she was going to accept and not refuse him whether or not it was an order? Had he really planned it all this much? Marcy stepped back to the container and picked up the card to place it on her counter. "What the?" she gasped as she stepped back from the box as tissue paper fell to the ground. "How?" she kept asking herself questions as she looked at the dress first with surprise and then with devious intensity. The euphoria in her mind didn't help anything as she pulled the dress from the box and held it to her chest as she spun around in a circle. Boy, wouldn't they hate her once they saw her in a dress like this. Red. Red red red red.

 

The color ran through her mind over and over again. The color of passion, hatred, love...love. Ha! Anger, hatred, determination. Everything that was a strong emotion could be represented by red. With a laugh, she draped the dress over the couch and walked outside not feeling the cold on her bare legs. As she stood there in the fading light of the day, she noticed that the swelling on the side of her face was going down because she could easily see through it now and as she ran a hand through her hair, she didn't feel any bumps, only the gashes. "It really worked." She laughed defiantly to the world and found herself with the urge to run and run she did.

 

Marcy took off down the clearing at a speed that she had never attained before. Blood pumped through her veins at a raging rate causing her euphoria to continue even as she ran around a raccoon. She didn't care! This strength...this power...it was hers even for a moment!

 

Her blood rushed through her warming her fingers and healing her body at an accelerated rate. It even healed where her hair had been torn and shorn the other day by some of the women. Her hair wasn't normally short and spiky but somehow this mixture caused her to have her hair back to its normal length. She knew that this was Johan's doing and she was going to love this!

 

Ten miles passed in the forest, then twenty and then thirty. By the end of the last mile, Marcy was panting for breath and she felt a chill in her lungs and limbs. When she looked around, her vision was still the same, but now she was....she was...

 

After a moment, Marcy slumped against a tree as her vision dimmed and she soon passed out. her new found hair was draped over her shoulder warming her.

Edited by LoveLost

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Johan moved quickly out of sight, rounding the corner in the music building before Marcy had the chance to ask questions. He made his way back to his room and quickly changed into a different outfit, one that he hadn't warn in years. He unsheathed his sword from the cane scabbard and re-sheathed it into it's usual dragon scabbard. From a safe he withdrew a custom built pistol, .75 caliber, enough kick to break a man's hand, or arm... or both. But it put large holes in things, and that was the idea. Silver bullets, it wasn't that creatures of the night were allergic to the metal or anything, but silver was more brittle than steal or iron, and the flat tipped bullets would shatter on impact, becoming a billion tiny shards as they sliced through whatever they hit. Nothing alive wasn't allergic to that.

 

He resided in a pent house above the rest of the dormitories, as did three other Richies that he knew of that were also insanely wealthy or influential. That gave him the advantage of access to the roof. The roof of the building was five stories in the air and beside it were other buildings ranging from one to three stories. One good running leap brought him tucking and rolling down on a third story building, then a one story, then... he hit the ground, adjusting his mask to make sure he wasn't' recognizable... He made a few deep tracks with his freshly ordered army combat boots as he reached top velocity.

 

He was relieved when he arrived at Marcy's dorm to find that she was still inside. Oh wait... that had just changed. And there she went... well one thing's for sure... she definitely drank the stuff, look at her go... she had exceeded human speed, not quite reaching that of a full vampire but thirty miles per hour was nothing to be sneezed at...

 

After twenty miles Johan was beginning to worry about how much further she was going to get... there was a city in this direction, only a dozen miles away, the forest ended two miles sooner than that. And while he was doing a wonderful job of hiding himself, even at this speed... she was just running without a care, and it wouldn't be good for her to be discovered.

 

He thought about stopping her himself and knocking her out or something... but there was the smallest chance something would go wrong and she might recognize him, and as he was now... without his contacts and using a number of vampiric abilities... he looked little like the boy he worked so hard to be most of the time.

 

He was about to resort to this last measure as they neared the tree line... but then she slowed... then collapsed. He waited a second before moving to her side. No need to check her pulse... he could hear it pounding beneath her skin. It seemed the blood had worked, he would love to have taken detailed notes about all the effects, for he'd never given his blood to anyone before, only heard about the effects from third parties, reputable third parties. But there was no time, he had no idea how long it would take her to wake up, and she'd better be back in bed and think everything was just a dream before that happened.

 

He gently picked her up, this time taking a full three seconds to place his nose near her neck and inhale in one long breath... and let it out again. She would taste so good... and the blood would heal any marks my fangs make... so close... so sweet...! the sound of her heartbeat was deafening. Why did I have to make myself promise not to... he bit his lip until it bled but finally began moving, and stopped starring at the major artery pulsing beneath the fragile skin of her neck. We shall meet again... he promised the neck.

 

In half the time it had taken her to run off, he brought her back. He opened the door with her keys and card and rushed quickly inside, not wanting to be seen. He surmised that only other immortals may have noticed her flight and his bringing her back... and at least he wasn't recognizable by sight at the moment. That would have to be worried about later though... He set Marcy down on her bed, draped a few blankets over her... and quickly left, locking the doors behind him.

 

He raced back to his dormitory and leapt his way roof to roof until he was at the top once more and could get inside his room. He didn't waste time though or take a break. as soon as he'd thrown off all of the clothing he'd just worn, he sent it all into the fire disposal unit except for the gun, back into the safe, and the sword, back into the cane scabbard. Donning his former clothing he took a bottle of bleach he kept handy and went back to the roof, dousing the entire rooftop in the bleach to hide any scent that he had been up there... at least his trail would end cold at the last roof... if he was tracked.

 

After this was done... he lay down on his bed and checked his watch... it had taken an hour and a half total. It was late afternoon now, and he had nothing better to do but sleep. He pulled out the white handkerchief from before and rested it on his forehead, quickly falling asleep to the scent of Marcy's blood.

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Joran was back to Graham in three minutes, grinning from ear to ear. "Gotcha hooked up with Rals Jackson. She's really cool, if you can stand really sharp fingernails and a grip of iron. Be careful while dancing though, she's... kinda short. But short girls dance better than tall ones, believe me! Here's my advice: just try to make conversation with her! Maybe you'll find her more interesting than most. I certainly did," and with the last words he rubbed the shoulder where her nails had dug into his skin. He snickered slightly at himself, then gave a final grin to Graham.

 

"Gotta go, but I expect to see you dancing with her! Just wear black, it'll look nice with whatever she wears. Bye!"

 

Joran ran off in a random direction, like he usually did after a slightly awkward conversation where he did most of the talking. As he ran he glanced at his watch and frowned. "Ah, five already? Hmm. Oh well, another day tomorrow!"

 

Although it was only five, Joran was eager for the next day and decided to sleep. He had no classes and no homework for the weekend, so he was pretty much home free. Home. Joran laughed as he ran, almost bumping into a random texting girl. That's right, I'm far away from home and I'll never go back, not until this country lies in ruins! Maybe being in college isn't so bad. It's not like I'm going to be hurting people after all, I'll be helping them by putting this country under Russian government! At least they've got a better class system.

 

Joran entered his dormitory and found his suite, a spacious area which he was supposed to share with a roommate but had managed to get to himself. It had originally been mostly white marble and white carpet with golden trim, but Joran had slowly changed things to a more dark blue color with hints of green. He had made sure almost nothing was red; being young, he could hardly stand the thought of blood when none was available.

"Speaking of which, it's time to feed... my pet! Here, kitty kitty kitty!" Joran yelled loudly through his room, knowing the walls were virtually soundproof. Moments later a buzzing sound could be heard, and a tiny electric rat rounded a corner and stopped in front of Joran. Joran smiled and picked it up by its wire tail. It feigned struggling as it was programmed to do, and Joran set it on its hand. "You virtual pets are a lot better than the real ones. Sheesh, if I'm gonna be living a thousand more years I may as well wait a few hundred to get a real pet! I wonder if anyone's ever tried making Vampire animals? Huh. Well! Here's your food. Guard Mode, I'm going to coffin. G'night!"

 

The little rat didn't seem to respond, but when Joran left the room it centered itself facing the door and was silent.

 

Joran went into his 'bedroom,' a room that he kept quite cold. In it was a lovely and huge bed with a fake person sleeping in it; beneath this was a coffin that opened from the side. It was hard and metal, just the way Joran was used to. The Baalgruf family had insisted their children follow the old traditions and shirk the use of soft materials, and although Joran liked beds better than coffins he respected his family's traditions. He also liked cool surfaces, hence his cold metal room, for the cold reminded him of Greenland. Joran was asleep moments after he closed his coffin.

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Johan was walking around the campus, it was a bright morning, but for some reason the sun was red and didn't hurt his eyes. As he rounded a corner he saw Marcy, about to be attacked by a group of guys.

 

Johan rushed forward to help her but he seemed to be stuck in place for some reason. Then he watched as Marcy ripped into them... literally, sprouting fangs and a wicked grin as she demolished them killing some and draining others dry like a professional elder vampire.

 

Then she turned to face him and smiled, her red dress he had got her was smattered in blood...

 

 

 

Johan's eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed instantly... sweating and wide-eyed. Quickly his vision took in his surroundings and he realized he'd been dreaming. He shook his head to clear it and jumped onto the floor, rushing into the bathroom he grabbed a small device that resembled a diabetic's blood monitor, and that's essentially what it was.

 

He quickly pricked his finger and let it test his blood. "Aye yai yai...." He sighed, seeing that the reading came back negative. There wasn't any venom present in his blood... he hadn't actually turned Marcy into a vampire... Then the monitor beeped and he glanced at it again LOW IRON he sighed, yeah he felt that way too... He always had dreams about blood when he went to bed hungry... but they were usually happy ones...

 

He sighed, setting everything back the way it had been, he headed into the kitchen next and opened the freezer with his thumbprint. DNA security locks... greatest invention of the twenty-first century.

 

He opened the door and unwrapped an entire gallon of frozen blood. "That's right, time to increase my diet, I need to be at full strength for the next part of this game..." He grinned, setting the block of frozen blood on the stove in a pan and turning it on.

 

Once it was melted he took out a straw and began to guzzle it down, trying his best to ignore the plasticy taste it acquired from the packaging. Actually... for this next part... he thought happily to himself, I'm going to need some real blood...

 

Downing the entire gallon in the course of a half hour of enjoying it as best he could. He cleaned up the mess, put the pan in the auto-washer, and returned to his bed. It was only two in the morning... no reason to be up so soon. It would take his body a while to distribute that much blood anyway. He quickly fell asleep again, this time having moved the handkerchief to the dresser beside the bed.

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Time Skip to Friday Night

 

Party is at 8. Don't be late!

 

((WARNING: Text heavy post....))

 

Marcy’s dreams were rather pleasant for her as she watched herself kill every Richie that had ever sneered at her, tortured her and harmed her in any way. Just watching herself kill them in a quiet, assassin-like manner sent chills down her spine even as she slept. It was so fitting! For them to have attacked her so openly, she attacked back in a subdued manner that left them wondering where she had come from until she stepped in front of them, a devilish smile on her face as their life force drained from them.

 

Within her dream, Marcy also stepped back in time to when the first Richie ever assaulted and violated her in ways that no other had since then. It was such a shameful sight to relive, but then again, it was also a very revolutionary thought as she realized that that was the first step that she made to making Richies suffer…the first step of many.

 

Her dreams then skipped forward and there she was, Marcy Jane Livingstone, standing in front of the White House. She wasn’t dressed incredibly, but there was a sense of power in her bearing but what she was looking at was what surprised her. There were buildings all around her in ruin as they had been for hundreds of years. But from amongst them, people were appearing and helping one another with equality and helping each other rebuild their homes and lives. Victory was hers.

 

Marcy awoke slowly as she felt her body resist her urges to get up. It was sore from the incredible running that she had done last night which she was sure wasn’t fake…especially since her legs were sore and her lungs seemed to be complaining still. It was incredible…that feeling of total euphoria and that feeling of complete strength and power. She would have to ask Johan about the details of that gel but for now, she looked at herself in the mirror across her room. She had never seen herself look this healthy and here she was with a light pink flush in her cheeks as her body shivered in the chill of morning. Her body had somehow filled out slightly and she wondered if she had had internal injuries that had caused her weight to drop even further than it should have. But her face…her face hadn’t looked this beautiful before. Her scars were gone as well as all injuries that had happened before. Bones were healed and as she looked over her body, bruises, bumps, shards of bones, and mis-healed bones were all completely taken care of.

 

With a chuckle she stood up and watched with jealous love as her hair fell to her hips and hung there in messy, chocolate waves. “Yes!” she said aloud as she gently ran her hand over her hair almost as if she was afraid it would go away again. It was so nice to have her pride back again…Lord knows she missed it so!

 

She stood there for a moment admiring with joy how healthy she looked all of the sudden then realized as she looked at her clock that she had slept through her alarm clock. Despite her frustration, she still followed her routine and sent a letter with a few months worth of government pay off to her two brothers. The oldest of the two of them was only two years younger than she was at the age of 18. Her brothers looked exactly like she did, but had no aspirations for getting out of the filth they lived in. So, to keep them and her mother alive, she sent them as much as she could afford (usually around $200 dollars each time) without killing herself in the process. To be honest, the only that she bought was meat.

 

She walked out into her backyard, grateful that the Poorling before had requested a garden. It was full of ripe vegetables and fruits that had a foot and a half of mulch around each plant. Some were starting to suffer from the cold but others were enjoying the weather. With slow steps, she made her way around the well kept garden making sure that everything was trimmed. As she walked, she grabbed a basket and filled it with the produce that she wished to eat that day and snack on. The first that she bit into as she walked in the growing sunlight was a large, ripe, chile pepper red, bell pepper. It’s taste was crisp and sweet as she bit into the slightly warmed vegetable.

 

When she was finished, she walked back into her home and decided to do homework and ate while she did so.

 

~**~**~

 

5:30 came to soon for her even though she was already done with all of her due homework and was working on next weeks homework. As she sat down her pencil, she also grabbed a small vacuum and vacuumed her couch of all debris then did the same with the coffee table and floor that she had been using. She took her cup to the kitchen sink, rinsed her dish as well as the sink after she had rinsed her dish and placed it in the autowasher. Each room was equipped with one regardless of rank.

 

Once she was sure everything was pristine, Marcy walked to take a shower and did so quickly. When she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped in a towel then brushed through her hair. It too was wrapped in a towel as she quickly applied her makeup since she had chosen it the day before. It wasn’t easy to do correctly, but it was almost just as dramatic as the dress. The original that she had chosen was a little too dark for her tastes, she made the pinkish color more red and lightened the black to a warm brown. The eyeliner was thinner than the photo that she had seen and her skin seemed to accept the light blush that she placed on her cheeks.

 

The lipstick was what she didn’t like at all. It was something that was irritating so instead of the specific color, she chose one that was just a little bit darker than the dress that she was going to wear. By the time that her makeup was done, her hair was mostly dry. She quickly pulled it out of the towel and used some hair products to help her hair smooth down but as she released it from the last toss to make sure that the gel was throughout her hair, she smiled. Her hair now framed her face and fell in luxurious waves. She felt like a queen!

 

Instead of leaving her hair down though, instead she pulled her hair up slightly into an updo that kept most of her hair off of her neck. Although it was purposefully messy and she made sure to use some of the new hairspray that didn’t feel like hairspray but instead caused the hair to stay still on it’s own by firming it up internally instead of externally.

 

By the time that she was finished, the clock told her that it was 6:30. She ran into the living room and made sure that the dress fit and it did, man oh man it did! It hugged her perfectly as she slipped into it and after making sure to slip on her red, four inch heels, she stepped in front of her mirror, grabbed a light silver purse and stepped outside. No one was in her area which was nice as she suddenly felt apprehensive, but grabbed a cigarette, took a few draws of the calming smoke and then stomped it out. It was better than she had been for a long time and she felt encouraged already as she slipped a piece of gum paper into her mouth. It quickly dissolved and turned into a piece of gum which she started to chew while waiting for Johan to show.

 

Xander had woken up at the dawn of the day along with a few of the other werewolves. He decided to go on their morning run with them which left him beaded with sweat on his bare chest and face. It was always invigorating to test himself with their speed since he did tend to be a slower Vampyre because he wasn’t born into it like most of the others were. He was getting better though as he became older and trained to make himself stronger for several hours every day. After thanking the Werewolves for their company on a wonderful morning run, he walked to the second floor of the house to the gym. It wasn’t any sort of normal gym, but rather one designed to handle and deliver the weight that they Vampyres and Werewolves needed to keep themselves physically fit.

 

Xander started to lift weights carefully and noticed that there were several others that weren’t lifting that much weight, and only one female that did without any help. Of course that female was Carmandy who was much younger than he was, but was some sort of anomaly. She never ceased to amaze him as she worked every day longer than he did on improving herself. When he was finished with his training, she was still there working and spotting herself in the mirror to make sure that she didn’t ruin her muscles for many years to come for she would have to live with them for some time.

 

By the time that he was finished, Xander had built up a serious sweat and decided to take a shower. It was odd for him to be so confused about going to a party, but, well, he might as well to make sure that things were alright in the circles of the Richies and since he was the son of one of the professors, it was pretty much expected for him to make an appearance just like it was expected of Carmandy. He wondered why others hadn’t asked her to go but knew that it was probably because they were intimidated by her personality…he had to admit it, but despite his age, he was still intimidated by her at times like he was her parents.

 

All of that aside, he finished his homework in quick time and decided to get ready for the party a little bit early so that he could walk there if he wanted, but more than likely, he was going to take his car and make sure that Carmandy had a ride. He kept his hair in it’s normal style since he was too lazy to make it change directions, but instead of his normal nice shirt and jeans, he replaced them with designer black slacks with a eagle like design on the sides in silver thread. His suit and shirt were something like the pants. The shirt that he wore had an embroidered eagle in the same expensive silver thread that was on his pants and the same was with his jacket, except the eagle wasn’t embroidered, but instead simulated in the way that the fabric was woven. All of the cloth was made out of refined linen and bamboo; some of the most expensive and rare materials now known to man. His tie was made out of silk and was colored like the thread.

 

Instead of wearing his worn out boots, he wore shark skin boots. On his fingers, to compliment the silver of his jacket, he wore two silver rings each with black letters that none could really read or understand except for Dean Zebulon who had once spoken the language. Once he was finished, he walked out of his room to find Carmandy sitting on the couch waiting for him.

 

Carmandy woke up that morning with a groan. Every day was a pain in her rear since it meant having to try and make it to her parents expectations again and again. Instead of going on a run though like she normally did with her Pack, she decided to do her homework first. It was easy until she reached History and there she actually had to go to her professor, who lived in the same house, and beg him for help.

“Please Senor Montague? I really do need it.” She said as she begged for him to help her with her history. It was something that was hard for her to understand even though she adored the subject…when it wasn’t placed in a scholastic setting. When Montague started to talk about the history of the world, she often sat and listened her eyes bright with interest. But put it in school and all of the sudden, her mind blocked the subject.

 

“Fine…since you asked nicely.” Montague smiled and began to help her. By the end of an hour, Carmandy was able to understand what the lesson had been about as well as all the key points that she needed to know. With her homework now done, she was able to go back to her room and make sure that she was ready to work out. It would take her at least four hours of working out to make up for the day before and then another hour to make sure that her muscles absorbed the energy poured into them.

 

The gym wasn’t empty, but those there were some of the younger in her pack with only a few of the older ones there to make sure that they did not lose what they had gained over a hundred years of practice and work. At first Carmandy was slightly self conscious, but when she placed her music in her ears to the loud pounding music of rock, she felt more secure and quickly set to testing her speed on the treadmill. At first she started with a simple 30 mph jog/run then kicked it up to possibly something closer to 70 mph and ran at that speed for an hour. It did her well to keep up her endurance so she decided to go another hour. By the time that she was finished, she was dripping with sweat and panting heavily. A few moments passed by before she could catch her breath and drink a gallon of water. It felt good to push herself to her limits like that, but her parents were faster for they ran with Zebulon and Jamila. They had developed their muscles to push them at incredible speeds that made them seem to be no more than a passing breeze.

 

Carmandy then made sure to go to the weight machines and for the last three hours, she made sure to work every muscle group that she could get to and finally walked to her room with her legs wobbling beneath her. It was an extreme form of punishment, but at least she would advance faster and faster. Her shower was longer than she had expected it to be, but at least she would soon be ready to wait in the living room for Xander. Of course he wouldn’t be done just yet, but at least she could be ready before him.

 

With a smile, she stepped out of her shower and quickly slipped on a light silver dress that was attractive, yet modest at the same time. It was something that she would normally never wear, for it also revealed her rather lovely figure. She placed very high heels on her feet that grew her to at least 5’5 if not more. She had worked very hard to balance her muscles so that they would allow her body to adjust to the extreme heights of the shoes that she chose to wear to make sure that she was taller than she actually was. Her hair was also done in an updo, but it was very large and framed her head in a slightly puffy halo of cinnamon brown hair.

 

Once her smoky makeup was finished, she made sure to set everything so that it would stay and walked down stairs. Her father was at the base of the stairs speaking to one of the youngest members in their pack. He had just been found and was a rather young upstart who couldn’t even control his strength. Carmandy slight detested him, but was sworn to aide him. As she walked down the stairs though, the young man stopped listening to her father and looked at her with a wide open mouth. The combination of reddish brown, gold and silver was rather odd, but striking and even Carmandy felt good as the young man received a slap to his head. She waited until her father was done and arrived at the bottom of the stairs. She looked at him expecting something like a smile or admiration in his eyes, but nothing like that came from her father who still stood several inches over her despite her height issues.

When he turned away after a few moments of eye contact, Marcy felt crestfallen and allowed herself to sit on the couch.

 

~**~**~

 

Several moments passed before she heard Xander’s footsteps in his fanciest shark skin boots. She smirked for she had chosen her dress well based on his past habits. When he appeared she had to admit that he was handsome, but not someone that she would choose for a mate. Besides, if she were to ever marry him, she would lose her Werewolf blood and become a Vampyre which she would never wish.

 

When he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, obviously looking at her, Carmandy walked over to him and quickly straightened his tie and made sure that he was ready to be in front of people.

 

“Graham?”

“I haven’t seen him all day Carmandy…”

“Hmmm. Hope he gets ready soon. Gotta make sure that he doesn’t make a fool of himself…idiot.”

“Harsh words Carmandy…Are you okay?” Xander asked with some concern.

“I’m fine. We should wait for him to come downstairs…his Uncle lives here, so why shouldn’t he?” she asked and then waited on the couch with Xander to see if Graham would come downstairs.

 

((url=http://resources.shopstyle.com/sim/b1/57/b15796df8fc31ec0cac518c4ff49ee02/david-meister-neiman-marcus-evening-dresses-onesleeve-glitter-gown.jpg]

Carmandy's Dress and Hairstyle[/url]))

 

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"Yuhuh.... yeah... uhuh... Aunty, I told you, everything's going great! Anyway who cares who rules the country when it falls to rubble? ...no, no one can hear me--yes, I'm alone! Aunty, you don't have to worry so much about me, kay? I'm nineteen--so what if I'm only one-hundreth your age? Oh, you're not that old? Heheh, sorry... okay then, yes, fine, bye, love you! Bless!"

 

Joran was rather grumpy being woken up at 2:00 PM by his aunt, but he loved the blind Vampire enough to let it slide. It wasn't like his grandfather was ever going to call him. Shutting off his cellphone, Joran rolled out the side of his coffin and shut it with a garage-door button thing. He then rolled out from under his bed and yawned a gloriously long yawn, happily staring at the ceiling.

 

"Boy, it's awfully quiet today!" He said loudly. "And... lonesome. It's so boring being a Vampire. I wonder what it's like to only live ninety years." Joran sighed and sat up, his knees tucked to his chest. There was a moments pause, then he sighed again and fell back down to the ground. He sighed a third time and sat up, then groaned and fell back down... and continued doing such pathetic pushups for about fifteen minutes, until his normally pale face was red with blood and his stomach was begging him to eat something.

 

He then stumbled to his feet, holding his aching stomach, and feigned a limp to the kitchen. "Good morning, kitty," he said to the robotic mouse as he passed by it. It beeped three times and pointed a tiny needle-type gun at him, and he smiled in return. "Ég er óvinur þinn." I am your enemy.

 

The mouse responded to the voice and syllables by tucking the gun back into itself and disappearing under a counter. Joran plodded over to his fridge and opened it, frowning. "Milk, gross. Pancakes, old. Eggs, expired. Cereal... how did my cereal get in the fridge?" Joran frowned and shut the fridge. "Nothing good to eat! Guess I'll have to get out my storage." A grin crossed Joran's face and, by opening various nonexistent doors and saying various pointless passwords while checking some locks that weren't actually locks, Joran ended up with a lovely cup of his favorite stuff, fresh from a week ago.

 

Strengthened and refreshed after breakfast, Joran immediately began preparing for that night. Although normally he wasn't big on appearance at all, he didn't like making others look bad and if he went with his dates in nothing but a black suite he'd make it look like they chose a poorer Richie or a bum-Richie, which Joran didn't plan to be. He didn't even plan to be a Richie. So instead Joran went to his special wardrobe and shuffled through outfits, trying to guess what the girls might be wearing. The girls were good friends and didn't mind being arm-in-arm with the same guy, but would they be dressed the same?

 

Joran repeated the names to keep himself from forgetting them as he shuffled through his wardrobe. "Aha!" Out he yanked a sleek velvety black suite with sapphire trim. The sapphire trim was made of real sapphires, but they were cut so tiny and delicately they looked as though they were thread when in fact they were still sapphire rocks. Once he had the suite out he searched and found his pair of huntsman boots, a tough but flexible and waterproof pair of black boots with silver lining and dark red rubies down the sides. Joran brushed his hair neatly back, careful so that every hair was in just the right place. He then proceeded to put a light powder on his face to make sure it didn't look too pale in the black lights and normal lighting that the party would have. The entire time he chewed various breath mints and gums to get the scent of blood and iron out of his mouth.

 

By the time he was finished, three hours had passed; it was 5:00 PM. "Great! I'm all ready. Of course, me being on the student council, I better get there early. Oh, and I can't forget to pick up the ladies!"Joran happily rushed out the door, locking it behind him but leaving his mouse off-guard.

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Johan awoke late in the day to the sound of his emergency alarm, he called it that because it was sure to wake him up if he overslept. The alarm itself was silent, at least to human hearing, it was an intense dog-whistle that dogs, vampires, and as far as he knew, werewolves, found extremely irritating, though he would find out for sure later on.

 

It was six forty, time to be picking up Marcy for the ball. He was very interested in seeing the full effects of his blood on her body. As far as he knew the older one was the more potent the blood to humans, however he'd never actually tested that theory, or given another human his blood before, so he was definitely interested in seeing the effects.

 

Quickly he threw open his wardrobe and shoved dozens of outfits to the side, reaching all the way to the back, he pulled out a metal suit-case. He set the combination and popped it open. Before him lay the first outfit he wore to school on the first day of class. He had created it himself, based on the battle armor he once wore that was now so out of date.

 

He ran a hand over it, it felt like silk, though that was only partially true. The fiber that made the outfit was actually thousands of nano-fibers made out of titanium, all wrapped around a single silk thread, this was used for the entirety of the outfit. The shoulder pads and bracers were high-carbon steel with gold and silver inlaid to make them appear decorative. It was armor in a sense, and a stylish suite, and... it bore all the symbols of his old life, a language now that he was pretty sure he was the only one who could read... but encase there were others as old as he was... he never wore it except for special occasions.

 

He slipped it on, immediately feeling around a hundred pounds heavier, but it was a comfortable weight, it reminded him of the good years, before everything went to ice.

 

He went next to his safe and, leaving the pistol where it was this time, he removed two tiny vials of clear liquid, a small flat device with a digital timer, and a pair of lead earplugs. Tonight was going to be absolutely fantastic, he would make sure of it.

 

Ten minutes later he strode down the lane to the poorlings' residence. Technically they were just the same as the Richies' residence were... without any of the custom furnishings that cost extra. But that didn't mean that many of the poorlings went without food from time to time, government budget was only so much after all.

 

When he saw Marcy a voracious smile split his face, and for a moment he revealed his fangs, though he judged himself to be too far off for her to notice. His keener eyesight however was picking out every detail of every change in her body that he could notice from thirty feet away.

 

"Well now, isn't this Marcy's residence?" He asked, playing coy, "I must be in the wrong place, ythis beautiful vision standing before me is nothing like the beaten and bloodied princess that I met the day before? Tell me, did you enjoy my concoction..." He grinned again, but this time hid his teeth as he walked up to her and took her hand.

 

"Looks like I got just what I ordered, and the dress fits you perfectly my dear." He kissed the back of her hand and then took her arm, sliding his cane to his left hand as he guided her in the direction of the party which would be hosted both inside, and outside using the ballroom and a large outdoor garden area in which there would be free food and tables, but inside there would be music and dancing.

 

"I ordered you to come, but only because I knew you would would enjoy yourself, so don't be shy, you'll have my full attention all evening." He winked at her, wondering how this next turn of phrase would strike her. "In my country it is the woman who leads in socializing, but the man who leads in dancing, your wish... will be my honorable service, until the evening is out."

 

yes, you will be a wonderful distraction... he took a deep breath, seemingly to clear his sinuses but really just to take in her scent. perhaps too much of a distraction. Marcy oh Marcy... I'm about to turn your world inside out and upside down. And we'll see just who is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide tonight...

 

"I promise... you'll find the evening quite entertaining." Johan had long ago learned to speak without revealing his fangs, he barely even opened his mouth, and perhaps it did look odd, but there was nothing sinister about it. Most just noticed it and ignored it.

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"But... yes, Grandfather, but I promised them--of course. I-I can do that, no problem, yeah. Bye."

 

So much for the old sorcerer never calling me!

 

Joran slammed his cellphone on the ground and let out a loud, raspy hiss, a sound that only a Vampire could make and only when it was really ticked off. He then proceeded to yell all sorts of Icelandic words at the phone before he stepped on it. Of course the phone didn't break; it wasn't like the old fashioned tiny cellphones that were as delicate as they were complicated. The cellphone simply buzzed to tell him he had another text.

 

"I want to go to the party tonight, not bust some stupid-- rrgh!"

 

He was still in his soundproof room, but Joran still stopped himself from saying what he had been told to do. His Grandfather had made him swear to silence on pain of having his fangs ripped from his mouth, and so silent he was. Immediately he began to change out of the simple but fancy suite he had been wearing, and instead unlocked his wardrobe to take out a completely black outfit, one padded in various areas to change how his figure look and make him unidentifiable on camera. At the same time he texted a few jocks and told them to dance with the girls he had invited because he'd be late due to last minute changes with the student council. Once he was fitted into his outfit, Joran sprayed the suite down with a special spray that wouldn't let even a bit of his own scent out of it. All of this was very expensive (and illegal) stuff his Grandfather had prepared for him. Last but not least, he slipped a black mask over his head, one that covered his entire head and had a pair of light vision goggles built in.

 

He sprayed the helmet and walked to his window, which was currently shielded by electric iron 'curtains.' With the click of a button and a fingerprint signature Joran made the curtains slide back and he stared out the window. The view was of a small wooded area where no one would probably be at such a time of day, especially not with party preparations. Just in case, Joran shut the curtain a moment later and began pacing his room, thinking out every step of what he was going to do. He didn't like it and he liked to think he wasn't happy his Grandfather had called him, but in truth he was excited to be doing at least something useful; it ran in his blood to want to be part of something bigger, something important that had meaning.

 

He sighed, glancing at his watch. Only one hour more of waiting.

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I really hate that vampiric stalker prick, Joran. Asking if I would go to the dance with that Graham kid. Why couldn't Graham just ask me in person? Rals thought, mentally grumbling to herself as she picked out her dress for the party. She had bought it in advance for the occasion, which Rals had known what would happen. She stood in front of the mirror, tanned skin glowing faintly under the light, and Rals applied the lavender-smelling perfume that disguised her scent from the other non-humans who would be surely attending the party. I hate make-up. Geez, when I find that Joran censorkip.gif, I'll make sure he pays. She supposed Joran would be there with a girl on each arm, which wouldn't be surprising since Rals had seen just how he had picked up those girls for the dinner. Rals sighed. She should've guessed. Her pack would be there tonight, all five of them. There were two girls, three males, and they had sworn their lives to her. Rals had ordered that the rest of the pack watch over Australia and make sure no other werewolves rose against her authority as the Alpha of Australia. They made calls to her every night using a single cellphone, heavily modified to be untracable. Rals's country was safe for now, guarded by her large pack.

 

Taking a comb, Rals brushed her straight hair back, and then braided it. She put on a small silver necklace, and some cheap (but fancy-looking) bangles. It was all set. Now it was time to put in her contacts. Rals looked into the mirror, at her dark, deep brown eyes. She didn't want to hide like this, but after the U.S. collapsed she could motivate Australia's government to lend a helping hand to rebuild a new government. Rals set in one contact, blinking rapidly as her eyes watered. Now one eye was green, another brown. Now for the other one. Once that was done, Rals looked into the mirror with her now-familiar green eyes and applied a little bit of blush. There, she was ready for the party. Now to go and find Graham. Apparently he's my date for the party. For a second, Rals wondered what it would be like if Graham discovered her real age. Sure, she looked around 18-19, but was actually 45. Now that was almost worth it to see the look on his face, but again, she had to remain hidden.

A few minutes later, Rals walked up to Graham's door and knocked twice. "Graham? It's me, Rals. Joran set me up with you for the party tonight."

Ooh, when I get my hands on Joran, I'll kill that stalker son-of-a-censorkip.gif

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Marcy took a draw of another cigarette that she had pulled out several minutes earlier. Luckily for her, it was one of the expensive ones that didn’t have the same harmful effects, or the same smell. But to her, the smell was the same although many argued with her on that point. She tossed it to the side seconds before Johan stepped up and she slipped another piece of gum paper into her mouth allowing it to develop into a small piece that she chewed every few seconds but mainly kept it between her molars as she spoke.

 

When Johan crested the hill that led to her home, she noticed that he smiled. It was a wider smile than she had seen before and one that she rather liked. It was purely white and seemed to fit with his demeanor. However, when he walked closer the smile faded to one that again, seemed to be hiding something in his mouth and she wondered if he had had to have some sort of oral surgery to repair some sort of deformity in his mouth. If the issue ever presented itself, she would indeed ask him.

 

His first comment was one that was very coy and sly, obviously meant to ploy on her emotions. The fact that he called her a bloodied princess though, fluffed up her pride more than anything else.

 

The dress really was sent by him and when he took her hand, she did her best not to flinch even as he gently kissed the tanned skin that encased her graceful hands. “The concoction? More like bombshell….and don’t be so coy.” Her voice was rough still because of her not being exactly, comfortable around him. “I did enjoy it though. I am sure you knew of the extreme healing properties? Wounds from ten years ago gone in a night as well as an increase in kinetic energy for I have no other way to explain it. The increase in strength in muscle without an increase in size. Also, if you haven’t noticed, an increase to a healthy body weight. It wasn’t only a healing serum, but a Health Serum. I haven’t seen it on the markets so I am curious as to where you found this.” She said and as she spoke, her voice seemed to transition from rough, to something more sophisticated and sounded more like a Southern Belle. The woman was originally from the south and when she was comfortable around people, her accent slipped into her normal speaking.

 

She allowed Johan to continue speaking uninterrupted then until she was sure that he was waiting for her responses to the statements. To the first, about enjoying herself and having his attention all evening, she felt rather coy in return to his comments. “You mean I have you all to myself? Oh what am I going to do?” she rolled her eyes even as a small grin crossed her face. “And your customs…they seem old…more than a hundred years old.” She said with suspicion before she looked down at the ground.

 

The idea of leading the socializing was a frightening prospect since she was a Poorling and he a Richie, but then again. To be honest, she didn’t recognize herself and if she couldn’t then surely the other Richies and Middles couldn’t so why not lead in the socializing? “I guess I could lead though in socializing. Besides, if I really let my accent go, then no one would recognize me and I would be impervious!” the idea pleased her, however, having Johan do her every wish?

 

“The only wish that I would ever have would be to watch the blood drain from every Richie that every harmed me.” She said and looked up at Johan. “If you could do that, then I think that I wouldn’t mind being around you.” A dark smile crept through her face and she knew that he wouldn’t do something like that, at least she hoped not. She would like to be the cause of their deaths, not him.

“With you around Johan, nothing is ever dull.” She said and walked with firm steps in her high heels. It was easy to for her but she found her courage waxing then growing at various points as they drew nearer to the home where the party was to be held.

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Johan nodded as they walked. "Indeed, I do count myself as one born out of my time. I have always been enamored by tales of valiant knights in shining armor, as they say, but not so much in fairy tales as in the actual history of the time period. The social customs I think were a shame to see go, and since I can choose to act as I wish, I occasionally attempt to bring them back to life."

 

When she mentioned the blood draining from the Richies he suddenly began to laugh, obviously he found the idea incredibly amusing for some reason. "My, you have a violent imagination, didn't anyone ever tell you to be careful about what you wish for? Would you really wish something so terrible on others?"

 

And then they were off walking towards the party. Johan paced himself, changing his long and sure stride to a shorter, slightly simpler gait that fell perfectly in step with Marcy and her heels. Things would be interesting for sure, he wasn't sure anyone would recognize her, in fact they probably wouldn't. The dress, far out of her price range, and all the changes to her body... He only regretted not slipping something else into the mix to make her forget what happened... but no... that too was part of the plan.

 

"Actually no, you never will find it anywhere." He admitted, referring to the "concoction" he had given her. "Reason being is that my family created it, my uncle to be precise. But sadly it was a failure. Hard to believe considering your state... but it was a finicky drug. It had completely different levels of effectiveness on people depending on their DNA. Some people, a rare number, it effected like you, although... I'm not sure what you mean by kinetic energy as a side effect... but most people... it healed superficial wounds, cuts, bruises, scrapes..." He sighed, "my poor uncle, practically went mad trying to fix things, my father had to disown him because he was spending the family fortune on his obsession over the drug. It's extremely expensive to create, and unless it effected every person in the same way it seems to have reacted with you... well it wouldn't be worth anymore than a bandaid..."

 

"Well..." he grinned, still not revealing his fangs, "a bandaid that makes you feel like you're high... that side effect was universal." He suddenly took a deep breath and cracked his neck from side to side.

 

"But enough interrogations for a while my inquisitive maiden, we can go back at it if you're really that curious, and I'm sure before the semester is out... you'll know everything, even why I don't smile completely. But for now... " they had just about arrived at the archway that lead into the garden, "for now we enjoy the party like anyone else who doesn't dream great dreams or peddle great ambitions." He said it in a matter-of-fact manner, not giving a reason for why he knew she wanted to know. The simple truth was she grew inquisitive in her eyes every time he smiled without revealing his teeth, apparently she found it entirely odd, funny really. She was quite intelligent. I'll have to be careful and remain in control even more than usual, if I want to keep her guessing for long...

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Graham hadn't slept well that night, and it showed from his tousled dark hair to his weary grey eyes. He remembered that he had a dance to go to, and thanks to that one Joran guy, a date too. That Joran had also told him to be more confident, and had warned him or perhaps was inwardly laughing at the fact that now Graham was paired with Rals, who had dug her fingernails into him or something of the sort. Oddly violent. A death by fingernails would be rather grim and messy, perhaps he ought to use that in one of his artworks. It'd be interesting, if not challenging or hard.

 

A shower was taken, hair placed in a more orderly manner, and the Ridell boy now stared at his suit. It was admittedly vintage. It was a supposed restoration of the original. The suit was black and silken, with long elegant coattails that draped from the back. A vest of white pulled underneath it and over top a set of fancy black pants. The vest has slight, diamond-shaped indentations that made it look expensive and detailed. Underneath the vest was a long-sleeved white dress shirt that's cuff-linked sleeves purposely peeked out from the black suit a few inches. Around his neck he wore not a tie, but a small silk scarf of sorts that tied around his neck just like in the old days. And finally, in it's pocket was small piece of cloth that Graham figured was used for decoration. It was, of course, tailored to him, and thus fit perfectly.

 

Adjusting the collar of his suit, he turned as a knock on his door sounded and walked over to open it. When he did he saw Rals and smiled, though he seemed nervous. Her dress was one that hugged someone's form and he did have to say, it really did look splendid on her. Dipping his head to her, he exited his house and put his hands into his pockets, his brows knit as he tried to think of everyone else that would be going. Obviously all the rich jocks, and that included Ruthlop as their ring leader, and probably Carmandy and Xander. Would Carmandy try to kill him again? He pondered over this as he stroked his three broken fingers which he had set a second time, but weren't tied up because it'd look bad and he hadn't bothered.

 

"Joran decided that we should go together before he even really asked me if I wanted to go with you. Which he didn't really ask," Graham stumbled along, but wondered if that sounded offensive. He hoped not, it might be nice to make a friend. "But you look nice, really quite grand. I'm sure that we'll have a good time," he stated, though it slightly sounded like a question. Graham wasn't one for parties. He wouldn't be coming to this if not for his social position. But Rals was really pretty and she seemed interesting, so perhaps this would be enjoyable after all. Weren't things just what you made of them? Why shouldn't he be happy? He was being given a chance to be social, and was going to a dance with a beautiful girl who seemed to have more intelligence than all the cheerleaders put together. That was a plus, right?

 

~~~~~~

Tom Ruthlop woke at two in the morning. His blue eyes were tired and weary, his brain slower than usual, and his tongue felt just as if he had just eaten a bucket of sand while walking in the Sahara. Walking over to the mini-fridge he had, he pulled open the door and took out a bottle of coke, which he tipped to his lips and started drinking out of, not even bothering to use a cup. It was dark, very dark, and he was barely able to keep himself righted even though the lights were on. Distorted shadows crawled eerily across the floor but to no avail, for Ruthlop could barely see even when the lights were on, as they blinded him and he had to blink several times for his eyes to adjust. A yawn escaped his lips as he wandered over to his television and sat down, clicking on the 3-D screen and watching the news, rubbing the bridge of his nose where he had gotten punched the day before. Oh, that Graham would pay, maybe even at the party. He'd get punched, just so much harder. Even if the brat took boxing he wouldn't be able to stand up to Tom, because Tom could just overpower him.

 

Somewhere along the line, Tom fell asleep. When he did wake up it wasn't long before the party. Stumbling to his feet, he silently wondered to himself how he could've slept so long. Granted, his coach had kept him 'till twelve in the morning just practicing, but still... He yawned and went to his bathroom, took a shower, and pulled on his suit. This time Thomas had made it known he was going lone wolf. Although he was high up, he didn't feel it necessary to have some girl waiting and clinging to his arm. He made a big enough impression without. Looking at himself in the mirror one more time, he nodded and then exited his living quarters to make his way to the party. Pulling out his cellphone, he saw he had a text from that Joran kid to take one of his girls to the party. Snorting, Tom shook his head. No way, that was that kid's responsibility. Like hell Ruthlop was going to help him out.

 

He didn't live far from the party location, and made it there in good time. It didn't really seem like anyone else was there yet, just him. Checking his watch, he saw it was only about 7:30 or so. Soon the others would be here, he was sure. With an arrogant tilt to his head he strode around the garden that lay outside the building where the dancing would be had. Seeing one of his colleagues, actually more like his best friend Dan, Tom's mouth split into a wide grin as he clapped the other man on the back. Dan had with him one of the girls Joran had been bringing, and his previous date as well, who seemed to be pissed as she tossed her head of blonde hair and glared at Joran's girl.

 

"Ugh! Like, seriously, I was your date, Dan. Not that b*tch. Why'd you have to take her? You were supposed to make my time special!" she complained, classic cheerleader drawl evident in her voice. Tom snorted and rolled his eyes at Dan, clearly thinking about how unlucky the poor guy was to have to suffer through the fighting that was sure to follow. Joran's girl gripped Dan's arm tightly and practically hissed at the cheerleader.

 

"No way. I was about to go with him when Joran asked me and the professor's boy came up and practically forced me into it. Y'know he's kinda cute, but I was going to go with DAN, not him. Dan's stronger, y'know?" the other responded, and they stared at each other, seething, as Dan rolled his eyes and walked over to Ruthlop.

 

"It feels nice to have girls fight over me. Why're you going it alone? Couldn't get a girl who wanted you?" Dan teased, bumping Thomas, who pushed him right back.

 

"Hah. Actually I had girls hanging all over me, including those two, who asked me to go with them, instead of waiting for me to ask them. I chose to go alone because I don't want to deal with a girl right now. If I see a girl I want to dance with then I'll dance with her. I don't want to be confined to just one or two girls," Ruthlop replied with a wink, grinning broadly. Though him and Dan might push each other around quite a bit, they both knew who would win in a fight. And surprisingly, even though he was shorter, that person was Tom.

 

 

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(( * in RPing Heaven * ))

 

It was a good explanation. She honestly had to admit that because it made sense. The only thing was that they had gone back to somewhat medieval way of living now and the irony of the way he acted made her chuckle slightly. When he commented on how she had a violent imagination, a small streak of pain crossed her face. If only he knew what they had done…the very first thing they had done and what she had to live with after that…if only.

 

“If you had the same things done to you if you were a woman, you would understand.” Her voice seemed to be thick with emotion for a time but she was relieved when Johan started to talk about the mixture, but then again, not so relieved. She was an experiment to him! That was it. An insane pleasure in making fun of her and making her an experiment. What a joy!

 

Marcy’s sarcastic mind kept going and she decided to keep her thoughts to herself on the serum but nodded in an affirmative to show that she actually understood what he had been saying. The arch that stretched high above them was covered in sweet smelling flowers, no doubt he handiwork of her fellow Poorling who was a genius with plants and cooking. She never remembered his name, only that she always loved walking by this house because of what he did.

 

Marcy was so distracted by the beauty of the flowers that she barely caught what Johan said next. It almost scared her to hear what he said because he seemed to know what she was thinking. And by the end of the semester? What did he have planned? She hoped that it was something interesting to keep her from dying of boredom and disinterest. If it dealt with history, then she MIGHT be interested, but if it dealt with science? Then she would be enthralled.

“I would like to know later how you can figure out what I am thinking.” She said with a wry smile then, as they walked underneath the arch, her face seemed change into a happy-go-lucky manner with her piercing blue eyes searching over everyone and their partners.

When they were asked for their invitation, Marcy merely smiled and made sure to hand them the invitation that had fallen out of the dress box.

“And your name ma’am?” the receptionist asked and Marcy merely smiled.

“Why would you need my name? I’m his partner aren’t I?” she asked her words pronounced clearly in a sweet southern drawl making her seem like a high class Richie.

“We do wish to announce the presence of such high esteemed Richies like Tom Ruthlop and Mr. Hawk.” Marcy grinned again and decided to just state that she was his partner and nothing more.

Once they were into the actual party, Marcy found herself rather interested in the flow of things and wondered just who she should freak out first. Tom. She hated his rotten guts and it would seem that it would be the best piece of revenge to surprise them first out of everyone else in the world.

“Come along Johan. If I am to lead in the socializing, then I guess we should start with someone of your own rank.” She said with a rather amused glint in her eyes.

Her dress rustled along the grass which was trimmed perfectly as they walked closer to Tom Ruthlop. She couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the expansive garden which seemed to take up a large part of the backyard. It had different divisions in the garden that separated it into a romantic, Japanese, rose, and wild areas.

When they arrived, it seemed that Dan and the two girls couldn’t keep their eyes off of the odd pair which pleased Marcy all the more.

“Good evening. How are ya’ll this evening?” she asked with a smile wondering what their responses would be to the blue eyes beauty before them with a winning smile.

 

Xander sniffed the air and for a moment he thought that he could smell Graham, but knew that he couldn’t be right because it was getting late and the boy hadn’t walked down stairs yet. Oh well. Xander stood up and then made sure to help Carmandy to her feet before grabbing the keys to his sleek black car and walking outside with her.

Both were silent on the drive to the party and as they pulled to the front of the house, the large population of Middles stopped and turned to see them step out of the car in unison. A valet took the keys and parked the car away from the doorway and directed them to the gardens.

Xander held out his arm for Carmandy who took it gratefully as they walked across the fresh sod. The smell of the earth beneath them was rather refreshing as they arrived without having to provide an invitation. At this point Xander started to converse with people around him as Carmandy stayed silent offering a smile every now and then when a comment was directed at her.

After walking and talking for a time, Xander made his way to where he could see Tom, a fellow Vampyre, as well as Johan and some other woman that he had never seen. She was much taller than Carmandy, but she was new to their group from what he could tell. As he rounded around them to stand between her and Dan with his escorts, he found himself taking in a familiar scent as did Carmandy for her eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in confusion as they looked at the girl beside them.

The scent was of Marcy Livingstone but the woman before them had long graceful hair tied up in an updo. No longer was her body gaunt, but instead filled out and fitting to her stature. Her eyes didn’t have a hollow look to them, and where her nose had once been broken, was healed. There weren’t any scars visible and her high cheekbones could be seen clearly instead of mangled by swelling and fractures.

 

The two friends were confused as to what to do with the sudden change because they couldn’t recognize her at all. Xander knew that Tom had a thing against Marcy and his Vampyric strength didn’t help anything when he attacked the young woman, but surely he would know that this was her. It was that or he would be too distracted by the scent of the women around him. Typical youngling. Although, he wasn’t too terribly young since he was only one hundred years younger than Xander.

“Hey Tom.” He said with a smile that was kinda directed at the women on Dan’s arms. He wondered if they were giving him a hard time for Dan seemed to be either totally disgusted, or really enjoying it. “Johan, it seems that you have found yourself someone that doesn’t mind your eccentric ways.” He chuckled slightly but Carmandy didn’t seem too thrilled.

“I’m going to take a turn around the garden.” She said in her monotone ways and left the group her steps short, but proud. She stayed on her toes to balance in the garden as she walked to a bridge in the middle of the Japanese garden. Here she was alone at least for a time so she allowed her hair to grow out and her teeth to elongate slightly and for her ears to appear from underneath her hair. This very garden was one of her favorite places to go because of the beauty of it all.

 

“How could she have done that?” she asked herself before sighing and listening to the people in the gardens.

 

http://www.toxel.com/wp-content/uploads/20...onceptcar09.jpg

 

((No colors sorry!))

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