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Well, there; he had done it. He had told the truth, mostly, and if the Vampyre and Alpha Werewolf knew anything about their enemies, they would know exactly who Joran was now... they might even know how illegitimate he was. But Graham... yes, Joran avoided looking at Xander and Rollo as they spoke and instead continued looking at Graham, knowing he had just lost a few people whom he considered friends. Suddenly a soft howl caught his attention and he turned with surprise towards Rals. She was... crying? She began speaking, and his mind reeled to keep up with the stranger language.


"I don't care who you are. YOU ARE MINE!" Joran cried out in surprise as sharp teeth dug into his right arm and he lost his footing. As the huge female wolf dragged him away from the scene, a barrage of Werewolves suddenly appeared from nowhere, blocking the path to Xander and the dark Alpha. Joran's arm was in pain, but he managed to twist his body around far enough to sort of get his feet under him. Then Rals sped up, and Joran did the only thing he could think of to get rid of the pain in his arm; he grabbed Ral's scruff and pulled himself onto her back, clinging on tightly and lowering his head to dodge branches. He heard the ambush of werewolves following, but none seemed to be chasing... just following.


As he held on, he could feel her heart beat beneath his. "Rals..." he managed to whisper as he held on tight. Xander's last words rang in his ears...


“Joran a pawn is what you are then. No matter, the Elders merely wish to know why you are here and you have satisfied that reason and given us valuable information, for that I thank you. But not all is hopeless.” He didn't understand. What did he mean by 'not all is hopeless'?! It was all hopeless in Joran's mind, or it had been, especially since he hadn't been 100% truthful. He had been just truthful enough that perhaps lives would be saved, and now he really felt like a traitor; he had betrayed his entire family including his sweet blind aunt Nuna, he had raked his new friend across the face, he had destroyed the gardens of two innocent poorlings who only had gardens as their friends, and he had half-lied to Xander. And what did he get from it? He got to run away--no, be dragged away--to live the rest of his existence in secrecy. The only one he hadn't betrayed yet was Rals, and in a way he had by giving up. Now here she was, taking him away from all the misery, rescuing him from the things he would have given up to. He didn't know how to thank her, or if he should thank her. Maybe she just wanted revenge in private.


He felt himself choking up and forced himself not to show more emotion. "I just wish I could forget everything," he whispered, closing his eyes.






Dun dun duuuunn....


"Well well, that little brat. You saw him where? Thanks, I'll go rip his hea--oh, there were more? Well well. Get out of there you idiot, if there are Werewolves they'll smell you. They... took him? How many? .... interesting. Get it all down on paper, and I'll clean up the mess. ... HE WHAT?! He TOLD them everything?! I don't care if he only lied about numbers, the fact is he just gave away Lord Ulran's entire plans! The fool!"


Steel hung up on the person he was speaking with, but instead of rage his face had a look of extreme pleasure. "Finally, the little pesk makes a mistake he won't ever recover from. And then he goes and gives away our plans? Ha, what a coward!" Steel's voice was sickeningly pleased, and he breathed out a puff of cigar smoke. The smoke curled around his face and seemed to settle around his silk black robe, dimming the glow of the rubies embedded in the collar. "You're dead, Joran, and you know it. No matter where you run, where you hide... I'll kill everyone you cared for and every friend of whoever rescued you, until you either kill yourself or allow me to. Your mind is weak, it always has been, and you know you can't win this game. Even if it takes a century, your life will be so miserable you'll-" Tap tap tap.


Steel spun around to face the door of his huge metal room. He immediately recognized the gentle tapping and he smiled. He approached the door and turned the handle to meet the face of a beautiful dark-haired Vampiress who looked all too much like Joran. The biggest difference was that her eyes were white like clouds. "Dear Nuna, why are you here to see me?" Steel asked sweetly. Nuna looked worried. The two servants with her each held one of her hands.


"You were on the phone, and you were yelling. Did... did something happen?"


Steel frowned, as though deciding what to say. "Yes, something awful happened. Nuna, this may break your heart, but your nephew just betrayed us." Steel continued speaking as Nuna gasped and the servants supported her weak body. "He found himself cornered by a Vampyre and a pack of Werewolves, so he gave away everything about your good father's plans against America. He also told them where we are located and who he was, as well as a portion of information about our alliance with Russia." Steel's 'listener' hadn't heard that much, so half of what Steel was saying he was making up on the spot. Who cared? Joran was a dead man either way.


"Then he escaped with some American Werewolves of a different pack, and now he's gone out of sight. I must tell your father, love." "NO!" Nuna was sobbing now, and she released herself from the servants and grabbed the scruff of Steel's outfit. The weakness in her was all too tempting for him, and he smiled despite her crying. "Please! Jarl Ulran is not in a good mood now, and I fear for Joran's life! Please..."


Steel's face slowly formed into a growl, though no such noise came from his throat. "Nuna, love? The boy betrayed us, it is my duty to tell your father immediately. How can you feel sorry for him? Your brother, my best friend, he was not a coward... but his son... his son has betrayed us in an unthinkable way. I don't even know why we let him know all of that information. From what I heard he gave away some specific names, too."


Nuna kept weeping and begging, but Steel finally silenced her with a kiss and handed her back to the servants. "I'll be back, love, with what Jarl Ulran says. Perhaps he'll feel merciful today..." Steel's eyes glinted with gloating as he left. Yeah, right.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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{{8D Rals is taking him to a very safe place...}}


Rals Jackson

I am your protector...


"Rals..." It was Joran, Joran whispering in her ear! Rals shook her head, trying to refocus her attention on the task at hand. She was carrying Joran, in danger of being killed by a stranger named 'Steel' {Whom Joran knew, though how or why Rals had no answer to that}. She had to find a safe, defensible place before the night was out. She barked orders to the other wolves, to start mixing up the scent. All of them smelled like lavender, it would be difficult to track her scent if they all split up. One ginger she-wolf ran alongside Rals, waiting to be acknowledged. "Alphess, we have located a small warehouse near here. It had no windows, and all of the walls are made of steel. What are your orders?" Rals nodded her head and growled through Joran's arm. "Have the other seven wolves mingle and mix up the scent. I will take the vampire to the warehouse. Once I am secure, we will set up a perimeter. Wolf forms at night, human in the daytime. We'll also need supplies to last, so send out some people, one of the seven wolves the enemy has not seen. Tell them to mask their scent with something other then lavender. Colone, maybe. Understand?" The ginger she-wolf nodded, and then ran off.

Now that Joran had a firm grip on her ruff, Rals let go of the vampire's arm, which was bleeding profusely. Rals ignored the pang of guilt and just focused on running towards the warehouse, towards safety.


"I just wish I could forget everything," Joran whispered, sounding for all the world like he wished to just disappear. Rals growled loudly at that, and shook herself a little. It wouldn't be enough the throw Joran off, but it would be enough to get his attention. "Go ahead. Forget everything. Just don't forget about me, okay? I'm the one who is gonna stop you from swinging at the end of a rope.


“Your submissiveness is good…but do not submit to all cousin. Your name, Arata, Arata Shou correct? Yes, that is correct. Good family. You are welcome here Arata Shou.” The woman bent down and gently patted his head with her hand as an older wolf would to a younger pup. It felt warm, and friendly. Just like his mother had done when he had first transformed. Arata let out a sigh of relief, and got out of the submission position. He had seriously thought that he would die...

“Are you alright?” Carmandy asked as she squatted next to Arata, her eyes wide and searching. Arata saw that the rest of the pack had gone, leaving them alone. "Yeah... yeah, I think so..."

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Joran watched blankly as wolves came and went, all filling the air with the scent of lavender. As the adrenaline and surety of death left him, he felt exhausted. Fuzzy questions bugged him in the back of his mind, but he was too tired to ask. His muscles were returning to their normal smaller size, and his fingernails were no longer like metal. The color hadn't returned to his skin but his eyes were a less-intense red. His arm burned with relief and pain when Rals let go, and he drew it up to his side. It was bleeding pretty badly, but he was too tired to care. Suddenly Rals shook and Joran had to use both hands to hold on. He was a little surprised, then realized it was in response to what he had just said without thinking.

"Go ahead. Forget everything. Just don't forget about me, okay? I'm the one who is gonna stop you from swinging at the end of a rope."


Joran was surprised by her answer. Just don't forget about me, okay? It struck him like a hand to the face, and he stared down at Rals' pelt. She really cared that much? He didn't know what to say; no one had ever cared about his life, not enough to rescue him and care that he continued to survive. Maybe his aunt would have, but she was still a puppet to his Grandfather. The girls Joran had dated before were all cute and mostly nice, but none would have risked their lives for him, especially if he had acted so much like death didn't matter. How was Rals so different? Even the day he had met her, he had sensed something about her that perked his interest, which was probably why he had set her up with Graham; he had wanted them both to be happy.


He looked down at his bleeding arm and realized it was bleeding because she had cared to drag him out of what he had thought would be death. He set the hand back down on her mane and hung on gently, still not sure of what to say. She had rescued him. How could he repay her? It dawned on him suddenly that she was probably the Alpha of the group she ran with, and he wondered how old she was. It didn't matter, though. He didn't care if she was fifteen or fifty. She was... something else.


Safety... had Rals said something about a perimeter earlier? Joran had a hard time understanding the wolf-speak, but he was fairly certain Rals was taking him somewhere he could sort his mind, and maybe even thank her... for everything.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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Rals Jackson


Joran hadn't responded to her comment, but Rals knew that he was in deep thought. His grip on her ruff was gentle, and now both arms were in her fur. At least he's realized how much of an idiot he's being. Rals thought, easily leaping over someone's fence. The pack was entering a popluated area. Of course, everyone was deep asleep, and the streets were dark. No human would be able to see them. For ten more minutes, Rals and the pack ran as fast as they could, constantly scenting the air for danger in the form of enemies. There was nothing.


Panting, Rals arrived at the end of the journey, in front of a large, but not too large, warehouse. It was at the edge of the woods, with a highway nearby, veiled by the trees. It was perfect. Even though they were pretty close to the civilians, it would not matter. The place was very defendable, just as the ginger she-wolf said. As they approached, the door to the warehouse was opened by two males, both in their human form. Now that the excitement was over, Rals felt drained by the rush of adrenaline. She wanted to go to sleep, now that Joran was safe. "Is the perimeter secure?" She asked wearliy to one of the werewolves, who nodded and pointed inside. The three metal crates that had been in the deserted warehouse had been used to section off a place for Rals to sleep. There were pillows and blankets scattered everywhere, and some werewolves were not present, which suggested that they were off gathering supplies. Money was not a problem, after all. Rals padded inside, her head up high to demonstrate her status. She would let Joran think about it. She deposited Joran in one corner, and tugged a pillow and blanked over to him. She placed the pillow in his hand, and pulled the blanked over his body. He looked... pale, still, but better than before when he was ready to face death earlier. Rals padded over to her sectioned corner and settled down on the blanket laid there. She had given orders: Joran would not be allowed to leave unless with her permission.

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((Okay, last post before for me tonight :3))


~Joran~ is trapped in a Warehouse with a Werewolf and very wary of waring wares... 8D Teheheh...


Ten minutes of running, and Joran quickly lost track of where they were. His vision wasn't hindered by the darkness, especially since he was hungry, but he was too tired to keep track of where they were going. For a moment, he found it almost relaxing to be riding so smoothly over such a distance; when Rals jumped a fence, moving as gracefully as ever, Joran got the scent of freshly cut grass. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to be running beside her, in full-hunter form (as he had been when the sound had erupted at the party), instead of riding her.


Finally the Werewolves slowed and stopped in front of a fairly large warehouse. Joran didn't like the look of it, but was too tired to care; nothing inside could be as bad as what he'd get at home, anyway. Home... it wasn't much of a home anymore. He had failed, failed in every way possible, and had betrayed his own country. Well, maybe not the country; after all, Vampires in the Nordic Lands didn't treat humans with much respect at all. He had only failed the Vampires of those countries, and the Werewolves he supposed, though Nordic Werewolves really didn't care much about the Vampires so long as hunting restrictions were lifted for them.


Joran could tell Rals was tired as they entered the warehouse, but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to get off yet or not. He noticed a place where three metal crates blocked off the corner, but what surprised him the most was that pillows and blankets were scattered. Apparently the Australian Werewolves were fast and prepared. Of course, being in a foreign country, they probably had to. Joran looked at Rals with wonder; if she really was the alpha, she was a really good one. Joran couldn't imagine anyone following his orders or being so organized.


Rals had an air of leadership as she entered, confirming Joran's guess that she was Alpha. She let him off in a corner, and he didn't bother standing; after riding for so long, he wasn't sure he could. Oh, and his body was exhausted from the stress, shock and tensity of the earlier situation. He also felt hungry, which wasn't a good thing; he had no extra blood with him and Werewolves didn't need that stuff, so there was no immediate supply for him. Not as though he couldn't wait a day, but he had a feeling his dreams wouldn't be very pleasant.


Joran was surprised again when Rals pulled a blanket over him with her wolf jaws and placed a pillow in his hand. Then he watched her go to her own corner and lay there. "Rals," he suddenly said. He didn't want to miss an opportunity to thank her, and though he wasn't very good with words in such situations as this, he decided to just say what he was thinking. "I... thank you... for everything. I know I didn't deserve your help back there, but I want you to know that... I guess you gave me something worth fighting for."


He stared down at the pillow in his hand, but managed to lift his eyes to meet Rals' for a moment. Then he turned back to his corner, turning his back to Rals, and took off the tight (and now ruined) suite-like longsleeved expensive shirt thing he had been wearing and tossed it a few feet away, leaving him wearing a sweat-covered (and slightly bloody) black undershirt with some random logo on it. He didn't bother taking off his shoes, and instead with a sigh simply slipped under the blanket he had been given, covering his entire body and head with it. He didn't put anything soft under himself because he was used to sleeping in a coffin under his bed, like the very old Vampires used to do. He took a deep breath, back to the ground and arms crossed, before finally closing his eyes. He quickly faded out of the conscious world.






"Yes, my Jarl. The evidence is right here, along with the report. I am sorry it took me a minute to get this to you; I was shocked, and also comforting Lady Nuna who did not fare well when she heard the news."


Jarl Ulran was a large Vampire; much like Steel, he was built for power and not speed, but unlike Steel he had honed his speed through much hard work. He was not an idle leader and was constantly aware of everything that happened around the lands he ruled... and the lands he spied on. Steel knew Ulran was aware that Steel was unusual, but so far Steel was quite certain he had kept his name safe. Ulran was almost seven feet tall naturally and a terrifying man to anger with a bellowing voice that could shake glaciers. Steel, of course, never felt fear and wasn't a bit scared of Ulran even in the worst of days. Now was not one of Ulran's better days, but it wasn't the worst.


Jarl Ulran turned to face Steel, a dark look crossing his features. "Then it is finished; the boy must die. He knows too much. You are to kill him as quickly as possible if you must, but if possible I'd like to see him one more time before he dies. Yes, I would very much like it; see to it that you do not fail me in bringing him here alive if possible." Steel bowed low, a light smile on his lips.


"I will try my best to bring him alive, my Lord; it would pain me to kill one of your own descendants. My Jarl, am I correct to assume that Lady Nuna is now the heir to your lordship?" Steel knew what the answer to the question would be already, but he had his reasons for asking. "Pah!" Ulran replied with anger. "That weak, blind daughter of mine is not fit to rule a kingdom! No... no one knows more of this land than you do, but you are not of the Bampaia family. I would like to make you my heir, Steel, but to do so you would have to marry and have children from a close relative of mine. But that is a matter to be discussed later; for now, you are to return to that college in America and track Joran. Do not make yourself discovered. No one is your ally there. Kill freely, but keep yourself a secret. Feel free to cause destruction to order, but remember your primary mission. Find the boy and bring him here alive, if possible. If not... bring me his head. Leave his body to rot in ashes in America."


Steel nodded, a serious expression on his face. "Yes, my Jarl. All you have said shall be done. I shall keep you and our contacts as updated as is allowed. And my Jarl... if you don't mind my asking..." Steel left a pause, to make it seem like he was unsure about the question. Ulran motioned for him to continue. "Your proposal to make me the next Jarl quite shocked me. I do not feel worthy to be your heir, great Jarl, but suppose you truly wished me to be so; would I get to choose which of your relatives to marry?" Ulran nodded, his thousand-year-old mind busy thinking of his plans in America and not concerned about Steel.


"Yes, Steel, any woman you wish who is not married or betrothed. Did you have someone in mind?" Steel grimaced and smiled at the same time. "Several. But no more time to waste of yours, my Jarl; I shall be on my way." Jarl Ulran nodded: "So be it. Go."


And Steel did go; he ran from the hidden base in Canada back into America, and towards his destination. Fully fed on a fresh kill of his own doing, he knew he'd have no problem getting there by morning...

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Johan frowned as Marcy spoke, there was more to this than plants and a garden, it meant something to her, something more than any inanimate thing should have. Or was this just the serum talking. He would have to ask her about it later. He could feel her shivering in his arms, and decided she was too out of it to notice if they arrived quickly. Since everyone else was still at the ball, asleep, or otherwise distracted by what had happened, he decided fast traveling wouldn't be all that dangerous, and in seconds had arrived outside his home.


The door opened at his presence and he carried her across the threshold. He turned left immediately and ascended a flight or stairs into the second story. He turned left and another door opened, revealing a large plush bedroom, draped in red satin silk. His feet sank into the floor, which by design, was a huge mattress that covered the expanse of the room. Several red pillows covered the floor with a mound of them concentrated in the center.


Johan quickly set Marcy down on the cushions and set the suitcase down beside her. He flipped it open and pulled out the change of clothes. Then decided against it. He took the suitcase out of the room, leaving her alone for mere seconds as he raced through the house to the bathroom, grabbed a huge beach-towel, soaked it in cold water, and came back. Johan draped the cold, wet, towel over her whole body, dress included and then reached back behind her back and pulled a small ribbon string until it unraveled. The entire dress came apart at the seems with enough puling and Johan quickly pulled it out from underneath her. The towel rested now mostly on her bare skin. That was the other reason he had chosen this dress, it could be easily removed.


"You're going to be alright Marcy, but it's going to hurt, and I can't give you anything to make the pain go away." Johan took a length of the ribbon and Marcy's wrists, and bound her hands together, he quickly did the same with her feet so she didn't have time to protest. "It will itch and I won't let you harm yourself." He then draped a heavy blanket over her, also crimson like the color of her dress, but black underneath, it felt like it was weighted, and indeed it was, Johan intended ti to be just heavy enough to keep her from thrashing, but soft enough to protect her from harm.


"I'm going to lock down the house but I'll be right back. I promised I'd take care of you and I will, as long as it takes, I'll be right here." Then he stood up and moved to the doorway, shutting it behind him and leaving Marcy in the very red room. But it wasn't a single color or shade or even texture, instead the room was a collage of different shades of read, different textures, patters, even the ceiling was a mural of a red ocean.


As soon as the door shut, Johan began his work. Tonight he would be vulnerable and certain precautions had to be taken. He l0ocked the doors and bolted them, he closed the chain covers over the windows and locked them in place. From his safe he removed the over-sized pistol and checked to make sure it was loaded before tucking it into the safe and locking it. He stripped off his suit and tossed it in the auto-washer, now wearing only the red outfit he had danced in earlier. He grabbed a large canteen of ice water from the fridge and a bucket of similar water from the basement, along with several washcloths.


All of this he took back upstairs with him after being gone for about thirty seconds and opened the door, entering and setting everything down a few feet from Marcy. He quickly dunked one of the washcloths into the water and applied it to Marcy's forehead. The doorway sealed behind him, it wouldn't open for four hours, no matter what happened... well... unless he attempted to break out, which was possible, though he would be ruining an otherwise perfect panic room. He had first laughed at the idea of having his bedroom in the panic room, but he did sleep better knowing that no one could get in short of military explosives... or super human strength and a really big hammer.... which would undoubtedly wake him and give him time to react. His cane was also in the room, and it sunk down into the padding as if it was extremely heavy.. which it was.


He lay down next to Marcy, propping her head up with one of the pillows and placing the damp cloth on her forehead.


"I'm very sorry, but if I had told you this would happen... I just wanted you to enjoy yourself without having to think about it. I won't hold anything you say against you, I know how torturous this is for you, I've gone through it myself." It was true, though his was different. The effect of a vampire's blood on another vampire was minute... unless the age difference between those vampires was extreme, in which case, a very young vampire drinking the blood of a very old... would have about the same effect as Johan's ancient blood had on Marcy.


"I was alone though, tied to a chair actually... it was quite painful. I would have appreciated someone to talk to. So I'm going to talk, and you can listen, or scream and yell at me, either way, I'm not going anywhere, I'm just going to talk to you Marcy, I'm going to talk you through my life, what I can tell you, I'll tell you about my home, about my family, and if you can ask questions, I'll do my best to answer them. But I can't make the pain stop, I can't make it better, I can't give you anything that would help... only time will cure you. Do you understand?" His voice was soft and he ran the palm of his hand and his finger gently over Marcy's face, softly, quietly, calmly, like his voice. Trying to sooth her as much as he could.


Johan knew vampires that could hypnotize people, control them almost, but that was not something he had ever endeavored to learn. He didn't want her to be anything but what she was. He only hoped that when it was over... and she could think clearly again... that she would forgive him.



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Rals Jackson


"Rals," Joran said, and Rals raised her head, her interested sparking. "I... thank you... for everything. I know I didn't deserve your help back there, but I want you to know that... I guess you gave me something worth fighting for." Good. He actually listened to what I was saying. Joran made eye contact with her, which made her heart beat uncomfortably fast, and then he took off his fancy jacket and went to sleep in a bloody black t-shirt. Rals padded over to him, but Joran was already unconscious, the blanket covering his head. Suddenly energized, Rals straightened up her sleeping area, and then padded over to the rest of her pack. She was greeted by friendly yips and touched pelts with all of her members, besides the ones who were on patrol or gathering supplies. They were all glad that the night's party was over, even the ones who had not attended. "We are all going to need clothes, including the vampire over there. I'm also going out for more food with three other wolves. Remember to keep vigilant. Just because there are patrols outside doesn't mean that we're safe. One last thing. If the vampire wakes up, and I'm not here, do not let him leave. Pin him, knock him unconcious, but do not make him bleed. I'll also need to get him some blood as well." Her orders issued, Rals touched pelts with all of the wolves again, and nipped some ears affectionately. They were all a family here; a pack. They would survive together, or die together.


The small, metal door opened up, and Rals dashed out, accompanied by three other wolves, including the ginger she-wolf from before. The wind had started to blow, and Rals sneezed. Her packmates had done a good job with the scent trail; she could smell the lavender from here. The wind would also help with blowing the scent out of proportions; by morning, half of the college campus and all the Richie houses would stink of lavender to a werewolf nose or a vampire sense. Her pack was ruthless, and efficient. They had to be, in a foreign country like this. Rals would be comfortable taking on 60 vampires and 70 werewolves in her home country, in her territory. In the Outback, there were places even her pack could get lost in. It would be amusing to see how long the Americans survived there. Shaking her head, Rals turned back onto the task. "First task: getting blood from the hospital." She barked at the others, and wheeled to the left. This was going to be tricky, but Rals was certain they could do it. "The blood is kept on the lowest floor, just above the garrage. I've checked it out, to see if the local Vampires were getting their supply from this hospital, which they weren't. I'm going in the window, which might trigger a silent alarm. I'll grab the bags, and then Matt here-" Rals indicated one of the male wolves on her left, "-will take the bags back to the vampire. Make sure he won't roll on them if he moves in his sleep." With that done, Rals jumped through the glass. It was a little difficult to open the refridgerator in her wolf form, but she managed in the end. As the door started to unlock, probably from some doctor getting some blood for a patient, Rals took the baggies and leapt back outside. Passing them to Matt, who took off back towards the warehouse, Rals and the other two wolves headed for the store. It was a piece of cake to break in the store; there were no cameras and the police would be late. Grabbing all the clothes they need, Rals had to go slower because of the danger of dropping clothing and leaving a trail.

They padded back into the warehouse, greeted by all the others. As promised, Matt had left the blood bags with reach of Joran, but not close enough that if Joran rolled over he would squish the blood bags. Looking over at Joran, who was still asleep, Rals padded back over to her blankets and settled down for the night. Good night, Joran. She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

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Marcy prayed and wished that the pain would just overwhelm her and have it done with. She didn’t want to realize this pain anymore and just wished to lose herself to darkness where she could dream and kill the Richie scum that did this to her. It was all his fault! It was all Kyle’s fault, all Johan’s…but no, it was also hers. Wait why was it her fault? Oh yeah that’s right…she injured the one man that really seemed to care about her as a person…care about Marcy Jane, the little southern girl from Georgia who loved life and animals. That Marcy was gone, dead because of him and those damned Richies.


Marcy’s muscles continued to shiver as she passed out for a moment as Johan took off. When she awoke again, it was a few seconds later and she glimpsed around his house, her skin turning deathly pale as her sweating continued. She was thirsty and only the heavens knew how much she craved that serum. To be able to kill on a whim…would it be a blessing or a curse? She couldn’t think right now so that question was left to itself.


When Johan walked into a crimson room, she couldn’t help but chuckle as she remembered her own beautiful dress that she was wearing. “You like that color don’t you?” she said as she looked up at him, but then curled into a tight ball for a moment as fire seemed to pour from her muscles to reach her skin in moments. When he laid her down on the cushions, she tried her best to sit up and see where she was. The entire room looked to be a bedroom…a giant, massive bed! Now that was cool! Her coherent thought was interrupted by scorching pain that made it’s way into her skin and outward. She fell back against the pillows, tears of pain running down her cheeks as she groaned and tried to keep her arms and legs from touching much of anything.


Johan came back to the room while she was doing her best no to thrash around and look like a total fool, but if this was to continue on, she wouldn’t care. Anything to take her mind off of the increasing amount of pain. He stopped in front of her with a wet towel which she really couldn’t concentrate on until it hit her skin. The cool towel caused a small sigh of relief to come from her but even in her pain, she wondered what Johan was doing when he took off her dress. She had to admit that the cool towel felt good against her skin and at that moment, she couldn’t care less that Johan had just removed her dress.


But when he started to tie her limbs together she protested and tried to kick against his grasp until she spent herself and her body started to feel like it was freezing. She shivered uncontrollably, but her face felt hot. It was like her body couldn’t make up what in the world it wanted to do. The fire though was gone, which was nice. Cold or hot though, it didn’t matter, it still felt like shards of ice were boring into her trying to make her cold to the core.


When Johan apologized, Marcy smirked as she shivered. “Yeah, real sorry. You get a servant from the whole deal and you’re a Richie. Like you would care?” she said spitefully as she glared at him from where she was laying. The glare was interrupted by a scream of sheer anger, pain and irritation as she felt the fire again, but ten times worse within her wishing to reach out to her skin. “You bloody *beep*!” She screamed at him as she rolled trying to get her body to release the fire quickly instead of in an elongated amount of time.


As she adapted to the fire that was there, she realized that Johan had begun talking. His voice was soft and gentle, something that she wished she could feel underneath the weighted blanket that she was sure was meant to kill her. When he finished, she only wished that he would keep talking and keep her mind from the pain that threatened to kill her, or at least felt like it. “yes, yes I understand…I understand.” A small sob came from her which only caused her to cry out quietly. “You jerk…you rotten jerk.” She said to him as he ran his palm and finger along the side of her face.


“S-so, start at the beginning then…” she was going to add ‘Before I can’t remember it all’ then decided to leave what she was going to say, at that.


Marcy shivered despite the fever and even found herself trying to itch where she had felt the fire exit her body the most; her stomach, shoulders, and lower thighs.

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Johan nodded, yes, he was a jerk, that much was true, no matter his intentions for Marcy's betterment or detriment, he was a jerk for not having told her. Oh well, he had known that going in, known that she would go through this, that he would have to watch, and for some reason... that didn't make it hurt nay less.


Johan offered her a drink of water before he began talking again. "I lied when I said I didn't understand the American system of classes because I was a foreigner. My mother was a peasant girl who lived in Mongolia, she worked as a rice farmer to provide for her ailing parents who couldn't get out of the house." Johan began, telling Marcy the truth about his life, though of course... he would leave certain details out. Still, it felt good to tell her the truth, for once, and really mean it.


"My father was the magistrate of that region at the time and was traveling through the area, touring his lands. He happened to see my mother, working out in the field, and took a fancy to her, or maybe he was just bored, all I know is that he never loved her." Johan paused, closing his eyes and laying back against the pillows near Marcy's head as he recalled what he had been told, the information he had begged for, bribed for, humiliated himself for, killed for, and quite nearly died for. "He took her... away from her parents and her home and made her his wife, though wife is too nice a word for her position, she merely became a member of his harem. A prisoner for his... enjoyment. I... was the result, a male child, my mother's only comfort. She was... my father's favorite, at the time, and he allowed her to keep me, to raise me, he even gave me the rights allotted to his legitimate children. But I hated him. My mother told me the story of what had happened to her, and when I was old enough to leave the mansion, she begged me to find what had become of her parents, my grandparents, the ailing couple who'd daughter had been taken from them without their knowing. She asked me to find them and what had happened to them, so that she could have peace, for she was still my father's play thing and not allowed to leave the mansion."


Johan took a deep breath, willing his fangs not to grow longer, his nails not to become claws, even after the centuries... thinking of hiss father still made him want to kill something... or break down crying and he tried to avoid the latter.


"They had died of course, of pneumonia or starvation I don't know which. Ever since the day I was old enough to understand what had been done to my mother... to all my brothers and sisters who were not allowed to live to see the light of day, of whom only I was chosen to survive. Ever since, I planned to kill my father, one way... or another. but that hatred would soon find new targets. When I returned home, I found that my mother had died, fallen from the balcony and broke her neck. But I was later told, as I was taunted by one of my older half brothers, a legitimate son, that she had indeed been murdered, and that if I stepped out of line even once... I would be too."


Johan sighed. "Part of me died that day, as I'm sure part of my mother must also have died, each time she was forced to kill her unborn children, each time my father forced himself on her, each time I..." He stopped, taking a deep breath, "sorry, I don't like to think about it. But if you can bring yourself to imagine my life... it's a miracle I've made it to where I am, a miracle my mother made happen. The reason I chose you, because you reminded me of her, and if she could have... I know she would have done the same for you that I intend to, Marcy. I can't change the past, I can't forget it either. But because of it... I will do whatever it takes, to complete my plans for you. I do not despise you for your status Marcy, I despise myself. You remain yourself, in-spite of impossible odds. I... became what I hate the most, in order to save people like you, like my mother, like me... from having to become what they hate, to accomplish good things. Do you understand?"


It was critical that she didn't understand, and he assumed he would have to tell her all of this again, when she was in more control of her mind and body. But he wanted her to know that he didn't intend to harm her, or to hold his position over her, he did so because he had to, to help her. To give her the power to do as she desired without having to become what she hated, as he had done. He wanted her to accept him. Because the more she accepted the portion of truth he was willing to reveal, the more she might be able to understand him, when he told her the whole story. Maybe she even wouldn't hate him... right... not likely.

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Graham growled in response to Rollo's snarl, not caring if he would be in trouble later for it. The apology from Joran was deaf to the werewolf's ears. With his crooked and bloodied nose close to the ground, Graham tracked Rals and Joran a few feet before looking back at Rollo and Xander with a whine, this one more of a "Can I go track them and then bring them back to you? I probably won't hurt them too much," rather than a "Can I kill them?" whine. The werewolf needed some way to vent, and right now he wanted to vent on that stupid Rals and equally stupid Joran. Joran was also a traitor along with Rals? Perfect. Graham wanted to be the one to take them down. His legs shook with agitation and his ruff went up. Oh yes, he wanted those stupid, stupid people to pay for everything that had possibly gone wrong in his life. This wasn't just about the nose, you see. This was finally a chance to take it all out on somebody, and who better than a bunch of traitors? Filthy rats, they were. They had been deceptive. Graham had liked them. And now? Now it was all for nothing. They had lead him on knowing very well they couldn't be friends. Well, actually they probably didn't know he was a werewolf. But they did now, and so they had mislead him. Just because.


He howled just the slightest bit, a howl that told them he was impatient, that he wanted to kill already. Somehow Graham doubted these two would let him kill them. These two were too soft. His uncle hadn't been soft. If someone challenged his uncle he'd stand up to them, scotch in hand, and then quick as a flash be at their throat with a knife, or perhaps he'd be punching them in the gut, or with a knife. In short, his uncle was better than them. His poor uncle had only gotten to live a 47-year-old lifetime, not the typical lifetime for a werewolf. It wasn't fair. If Graham's uncle were alive, things would be so much better. His uncle probably would've lead a clan later on. But it was not so. Death took him with a cold and unfeeling hand, took him from Graham and spirited him away to wherever the dead go, if they went anywhere in the first place.


A snarl rumbled from Graham's throat in outrage. It wasn't clear if he was now ignoring the elders behind him, or if he had merely forgotten about them, but with his ears pinned to his head, Graham set off. He'd go right to those other werewolves, kill them all, then kill Rals and Joran too. Great plan, right? Well, someone with skills like Graham had didn't need a plan, of course. And so Graham, the werewolf who would be so much better off if he didn't supress his emotions as a human, set off to kill those "stupid people," kill those stupid "other werewolves," and thusly kill everything that troubled him. Because that was how it would happen, in his delusional world. Unfortunately, in his world, his uncle was still alive, Tom Ruthlop was dead, and so was anyone who had ever dared mess with Graham Ridell.


Tom hated most noises, unless these noises were his own voice. He didn't really like any sort of music, he hated listening to Dan, and The sound of a lecture was excruciating. The only thing he hated more was any kind of piercing, buzzing, beeping, or screeching noises that might go on for a really long time. He hated the noise of old TV's, of mosquitoes, or the weird machine in that sub restaurant. Those noises would often make him moody, unlikable, and not his usually-charming self. The sound of anything like that would drive him crazy. And so, when a piercing and screeching noise entered his ears, it was just acting for trouble. The pain it brought him added with his hatred of noises such as this? Well, it wasn't a good combination. Muscular jaws locking as fangs elongated, Ruthlop looked tortured, angry, and dangerous. Dan, who confusedly was at his heels, looked at his friend warily, stepping away from him. Tom fled from the building, just to get out, to get anywhere, anywhere but near the sound. And then it seemed to stop. The tensed muscles along his shoulder and jawline slowly relaxed, his fangs slowly shortened, the near-snarl on his face relaxed. The only thing that didn't was his furrowed brow. Looking around, he realized that all the people out here with him were probably vampires or werewolves too. That would then mean that they knew.


You see, Tom was a Vampyre. He was American, he just wasn't in a clan,n or even moderately outspoken about the fact that he was one. He hid it well, after all. At 200 years of age he was still as good looking as ever, and naturally had the same pigmentation as a normal human. What was to make someone doubt his human-ness? The pills he took with iron in them was easy to make an excuse for. His latest excuse was ADD, or Attention Deficit Disorder. Anyone who knew him could vouch for that. A long time ago he had used the excuse of hyperactivity. Now that excuse was completely laughable, seeing as how lazy he was unless he was hyped on adrenaline before a game, or right before he was about to beat someone up. Perhaps lazy wasn't the right word. It was more of him pretty much refusing to rise above the level of requirement. He would do what was expected of him, and not do anything more. But obviously this little secret of his had just gone under siege. So he would perhaps form another excuse. He had come out with the rest of them because he wanted to see what was wrong. Yeah, that'd work.


But wasn't that what was expected of him? It was expected that he was just another human. A dopey football player. Well they were all wrong. They would learn to expect the unexpected. Because he was 200 years old, had lived through the good ol' mafia days, had been witness to feuds and the still-common use of horse-drawn buggies, and had seen the evolution of cars. He was no nimrod, he was the exact opposite of what he seemed to be, and they'd learn. They'd see how different he was, but he would stay the same. He would still play football and be a bully, he'd just also be the 200 year old Vampyre as well. And he could gloat. They all thought him the horrible, rude... But he still was that, wasn't he? He just was now armed with fangs, and claws, and incredible speed. So now he was a target. Oh well.


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The Richies who had all randomly ran out to the yard were the ones Kanthaya had been asking about helping, but they were far too busy organizing something amongst themselves. Kanthaya blushed suddenly, realizing this was probably just some joke they were all in on that they had to prepare for. None of them looked super happy, so she decided to go inside... and then she saw it. She had been turning to go quietly and unnoticedly back in, when suddenly a flash of what had looked like a wolf had caught her eyes. But it was gone when she turned back, and no one out in the yard seemed to notice. Kanthaya quickly went in, shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath. Yeah, right; a wolf on campus? Maybe a German Shepherd the police owned, out for a walk. Looking around, she noticed that Johan and Marcy were no longer inside. Were they in on it, too?


That was when she noticed the broken window and some Richies laughing and guessing who jumped out the window. When she was outside she had missed it, though she had thought she had heard something breaking. She thought it was rather... well, extreme, that someone would jump out a window like that. And Marcy, where was Marcy? She didn't dare ask anyone, as no one probably wanted to be asked where a poorling was. So Kanthaya quietly crept outside and looked around. It seemed both Johan and Marcy had left. Those who were still indoors at the party looked like they were having too good of a time, so Kanthaya decided perhaps she should leave as well. After all, she had to analyze the strange medicine some time.


So Marcy did leave. She had one of the campus policemen escort her home in his vehicle. Although Kanthaya didn't know it, the policeman had been sitting in his car when the window was broken, and by the time he had looked up only a blur remained of the person who had broken it. The police was silent when driving her home as he tried to figure out how the person could have moved so fast, or if it was even a real person who had broken the window.


"I'd like to go to the labs, please," Kanthaya told the driver. He nodded silently and brought her there. Kanthaya thanked him when she arrived, and to her delight the doors into the medical studies building were still unlocked. That meant some of the professors were still at the dance, and at least one was here at the labs guarding everything. Kanthaya entered and began searching for Professor Yates' offices. It wasn't hard to find them, as she took classes with him, and to her 'luck' (as usual) he happened to be in-office. He was studying some research papers, squinting at them as though trying to figure out some error in them. Kanthaya knocked shyly on the door. Yates looked up and smiled, motioning her in. She walked in and closed the door behind her.


"Good evening, Kanthaya! How can I help you?" Kanthaya smiled. She had never talked to Yates outside of class (and barely any within class), so she hadn't known what kind of man he really was. "Good evening, sir. I was wondering if you'd allow me to use some of your basement labs for a few hours?" Yates looked surprised. "A few hours? What ever would you be doing down there?" He was still smiling.


"I would like to study a new chemical for a special project in another of my medical classes. I was given a vial of some sort of healing liquid, and I have to analyze it." Well, it was mostly true. Yates seemed to buy it and nodded quickly, reaching for a set of keys from his pocket. "Here," he said, handing her a big iron key. "This should get you into Basement Lab C. That lab's got the newest equipment and everyone knows to stay out of it unless I specifically let them in, so no one should bother you. But if you need help, you just yell, understand?" Yates looked very serious then, and Kanthaya nodded. "Yes, sir, I understand. Thank you!"


She quickly left the room and headed down to the basement. She entered the lab and locked the door behind her, just in case; being alone at night in a basement didn't strike her as exactly safe. When she switched the light on, she was delighted to see that the room not only had the equipment she thought she'd need, but much much more and things she hadn't even thought of. It was just as Johan Hawk had said; it was perfect. Kanthaya pulled the little vial out of her pocket and stared at it for a moment, tipping it slightly in the light. She sighed. "Time to get to work."


And work she did, all alone in her cream party dress, just she and the occasional cup of coffee.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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((I stay up so late for this awesome RP...now if only I would buckle down and get to my book...))


Marcy tried her best to listen to all that Johan was saying but it was very hard to concentrate as she felt as though her limbs would leave her body and turn into ashes. But as she concentrated as hard as she could, she felt something that she had yet to feel for Johan; sympathy. He came from both a rich and a poor background much like her own children would have been, but he survived. He survived and built himself out of nothing and gained his revenge without anyone’s help. She desperately wished that she herself could do that, but knew that in her state she couldn’t. Not without him could she ever make herself as incredible as he was.


She wondered why his mother wouldn’t have been able to see through all that Johan’s father did, but then again it was hard for her to see anything when she had been in love…love. But besides that, his mother sounded like a strong woman, one to be respected and revered. For a moment, as she started to shiver again, she thought that she could respect a woman that was determined to allow her son to live for it was more than Marcy could have ever done.


While the cold part of the roundabout affects of the serum went along, she looked at Johan and listened while trying to comprehend more than what she was hearing for he paused often when talking about his father. He hated him more than she hated her own father for leaving her family to die slowly. Maybe they had more in common than she thought was possible between a Richie and a Poorling.


He was trying to explain to her what was going on about his determination and how she reminded him of his mother. For him to see his mother in her was something that she considered to be rather nice, but she still couldn’t really understand how he didn’t hate her, he hated himself. It was something that was too complex for her to understand at the moment, and I wonder why?


Nope…nope because I can really only concentrate enough to hear your voice, and to understand a few things…I hope you don’t mind explaining this to me tomorrow?” she asked with a raspy voice as it was raw from holding back desperate screams to try and relieve the pain that she so acutely felt.


What more could she do as each wave increased in pain until she could no longer feel anything but the pain? Her eyes would close as tears slipped down her cheeks unchecked while the waves ceased into their chilly existence. When each heat wave came and the itching continued, screams and groans would escape her until her voice was spent, and all that she could do was beg for it to stop. She hated that the pain degraded her to beg from a Richie, but beg she did…


Johan waited for an ebb in the pain and then offered her water again, holding the canteen to her lips and allowing her to drink quickly, though painfully. “I will explain it again… If I can bring myself to do so, yes.


He moved next to her, holding her through the covers as she cried out in her raspy voice. It was all he could do, he wouldn’t give her more of his blood, he couldn’t, she had to make it through this and she would… it would start to ebb soon, leaving her exhausted, and hopefully she’d merely fall asleep. Johan hummed quietly in her ear, the tune to a lullaby his mother had sung for him, the words were lost to his mind but the sounds were there, and it oddly felt fitting, as something to use to comfort Marcy.


Marcy found the lullaby that Johan hummed to be just that. It had been at least 2-3 hrs of this torture and her body was spent as she was sure the last amounts of pain escaped through her. All that was left, was a throbbing headache, and a dull ache all over her body. As she had done long ago when sharing her life with a man before, she allowed herself to sink into the calming, comforting, and protective embrace of Johan. It was something that she desperately needed, to feel protected that is.


Even though she felt vulnerable as she lay there in his embrace, she couldn’t help but give a shuddering sigh as her muscles relaxed. Despite the pain that it caused her to move, Marcy looked up at Johan and studied his face for a moment, wondering what kind of man he really was. “Thank you.” The simple words were hushed for her throat would need sleep to repair, but she said it with all of the gratitude in her body.


It was at least another few minutes of Marcy listening to the steady breathing and beat of Johan until she quickly slipped off into a much needed slumber. Her breathing was slow and slightly raspy as if she were sick, but her heart was also beating strongly to heal her strained muscles.


Johan didn’t reply, he simply nodded to her, and finished the song. He tried to fall asleep as well, though he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as the average human, the nights events had been stressful even if also enjoyable and he was tired. But every time he would lay down, the sound of Marcy’s heartbeat was deafening in his ears. He had been more concerned with her wellbeing to pay himself much mind before… but with her asleep… the scent of her body, her blood, the sound of her heartbeat. Her breath smelt strongly of her blood from the minor lacerations to the inside of her dry throat. Her neck lay inches in front of his face, pulsing with the hot, sweet, blood that was Marcy Livingstone.


Johan quickly, but gently, sat up, shaking his head. He bit down on his own wrist, drawing blood into his mouth and pain into his body, snapping him out of his trail of thought and intention. Licking his ound clean, he gently pulled the heavy blanket off of the sleeping Marcy, removed the towel, and replaced both with a much softer and warmer set of blankets.


To further distract himself he tidied up the room, though he wouldn’t be able to leave it for another two hours when the door automatically unlocked. By then the trouble would be past. There was only a very very minute chance that she would come here, after causing whatever damage she caused… but he couldn’t risk being discovered yet, or having Marcy hurt by her. Finally Johan moved to the very far side of the room and lay down with a tortured sigh. Marcy’s infernal heartbeat still ringing in his ears… but at this distance it was more a gentle thrum, and soon he too was fast asleep.


Marcy’s dreams were peaceful and gentle. They were of happier times which was a long need relief to her tortured mind. She dreampt of playing with her two sons as they grew while she herself was a high ranking doctor in the veterinary realm. She was superior and was making a difference a day at a time and she had her family. In the background as she played with her sons, brothers and mother, there was a lone figure smiling the entire time as if he were either proud of her, or waiting. With light quick steps, she ran up to him and another man that was standing there. One was the green eyed, curly haired man that she had loved at one time, and the other was a man that she barely knew now, but in the dream, she seemed to love him more than herself.


‘Move on Marcy. My choices were my own.’ Came a voice that sent shivers down her spine even in her sleep. ‘Move on and never lose yourself in your hatred. I love you. Goodbye.’ And with that, Sheehan disappeared from beside the other man whom she identified as Johan, and let her be.


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((feel free to keep posting as if it were night, I just wanted to get this in as the first post of the morning in order for you all to have information about something that happened that night. Also, it's a Saturday now (party was friday night) so no school classes (at least that makes sense to me as it was never stated...)))


It was another average day in Crystal Lake Colorado. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the dogs were barking, the grass was growing, the police were shouting, the sirens were... wait a second...


Of note on the eve of that morning was the sound of a police siren, then several, which came to rest outside the "Richie" residential housing area of the campus. This immediately followed by a helicopter landing, receiving a patient on a stretcher, and then taking off for the nearest intensive care unit.


The dwelling in question was that of Juliana Roberts and Dana Pierce. The door had been found open by the janitorial staff, who had discovered Julianna's barely living form lying in the middle of the kitchen, covered in her own blood and bleeding from several cuts and slashes to her wrists, arms, and neck.


Food was strewn about the floor of the kitchen, the fridge was tipped over and emptied as if someone, or something had gone through it and sampled every edible item, only to toss said items onto the floor with great force. Claw marks marked several of the counter tops and the fridge door as well as the doorway. Juliana was in critical condition, and her roommate Dana... well.. only a torn party dress gave any clues as to the girls current whereabouts.




Several miles away, towards the peak of the mountain upon which an ancient mansion was built... a lone figure stumbled through the forest, clothed in a torn nightgown, reeking of drying blood, and mumbling incoherently. Long fangs mark her as a vampire, but her disposition and manner are that of a confused, terrified, and mortified individual. She's been walking for hours, ever since two in the morning when it all happened. When Julianna had cut herself while preparing food for her famished roommate... when the first of the blood started flowing. When everything had gone red... and then she had awoke to the horrible reality of what she had done, but what had she done?


The female figure simply continued to walk, unable to process what had happened, obviously in shock, absent of mind, and coincidentally... heading for a mansion she didn't know existed, away from a search and rescue party that had already been dispatched into the area, away from the press that had shown up a mere hour after Julianna's body had been and flown to hospital. Away from the "wild animal" that the police assumed must be responsible for the horrendous result of a human turned vampire with no guidance, no education, no direction... simply base instinct for food and survival.


Like I said... a normal day in the Crystal Lake area of Colorado....

Edited by Rakashua

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((this is gonna be a semi-longish morning post everyone :3))


Kanthaya had finished her work on the vial, and had discovered everything about it. It was some secret formula that was very, very illegal, and she was carrying it. Johan was a terrorist and had now framed her for bringing the vial into the United States. Yet as she rushed out of the lab building, she couldn't seem to put it down. The sound of a barking dog caught her ears, but when she turned all she saw was a vicious wolf. She was running, trying to get to her dorms. Suddenly police sirens were wailing, and she was surrounded! She screamed as they shouted her name.


"Kanthaya! Kanthaya..."



Kanthaya gasped as she awoke from her dream and sat up, blinking and looking around rapidly. She was shocked to find herself not in her room, but sitting on a rather hard chair leaning on a rather hard stainless steel table... in the lab. "Kanthaya?" There was a knock at the door and a worried voice; it was Professor Yates. Kanthaya shook her head to clear it and shuddered, rushing to the door quickly to unlock it. When she opened it she found a rather worried Professor Yates standing there with a single campus officer. Kanthaya frowned at her dream, but she knew it wasn't real; the things she had discovered last night, which she had apparently fallen asleep in the middle of discovery, were incredible but not illegal so far as she could tell.


The only thing that bothered her was the fact that she could still hear the sirens from her dream...


"Professor Yates! Oh my gosh, I am soooo sorry! I fell asleep in the lab last night after feeding some of the--uh, mystery medicine, to a lab rat. Do you... I'm sorry, do you mind if I stay and clean up?"


Professor Yates laughed with relief. "Not at all. I am so sorry, for some reason I thought you went home at 4:00 AM. I swear I saw someone walk by..." Yates shook his head, blinking. "Anyway, you can stay as long as you need, but please leave the doors unlocked now." Kanthaya nodded, but she could still hear the sirens. She turned to the officer. "What's going on?" He shook his head. "I'm afraid details cannot be released yet, ma'am, but I can tell you what everyone else knows; Juliana Roberts is in the hospital, and Dana Pierce is missing." The officer was a kind Middle who had worked hard for his position, and he looked rather sad when telling Kanthaya this even though Kanthaya barely knew Dana. All she knew was that Dana was very popular, and a very good dancer.


There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Kanthaya managed "Oh." She blinked and rubbed her eyes a bit, still tired. Yates cleared his throat and shifted, smiling. "So, what did you discover? Oh, thank you officer Johnson, I think we'll be fine." Officer Johnson nodded and left. Kanthaya stared at Yates. She wasn't sure what to tell him; it was... almost too amazing for words. She decided to give a less-extreme version of what she had found. "Well, I ran it through as many tests as I could think of--I think I used almost every machine in the room--and I found it's very, very high in vitamin concentration. It's like someone stuffed as many vitamins and necessary nutrients into it as possible, but if injected or consumed it would also rapidly spread through the body; it almost seems to have some virus properties, except that the body wouldn't reject it or be repulsed by it. The body would naturally accept it, and be fed all those good vitamins."


Yates looked curious, but Kanthaya hadn't told him the half of it. "Really?" He asked with a smile. "So how much would be an overdose?" Kanthaya thought for a moment. From what she could tell, from the little her research could say, you could drink the whole thing and not die; you'd just be super healthy for, like, the rest of your life. Okay, that was an over-exaggeration, but the chemicals seemed to break down as the body needed them, and not before. She shrugged. "I'm guessing three drops, sir. This is a really concentrated version of it." Yates nodded and glanced around the lab.


"Interesting," he said. "I bet I know what it is. But I'll let you get back to your work. Good luck!"


Kanthaya watched him leave. Good luck; how ironic. "Thanks, sir, I'll need it," she said quietly. What she hadn't told him was that the vial's contents behaved shockingly like DNA of some sort, almost as though they'd been specially taken from a specific individual. The DNA seemed dominant as well, though she couldn't be sure without actually testing it on a human. She wished she had samples of Marcy's blood, because the more she thought about it the more she wondered if Marcy... was still Marcy. Thinking of this reminded her of her lab rat, and she quickly trotted over to the cage and lifted the towel she had put over it. She gasped to find the rat dead... but it had died recently, and she had given it the dose shortly before falling asleep around 2:00 AM in the morning. It was now 6:00. She reached carefully into the cage and touched the body of the young lab-rat. Not only was it warm, but the lab-rat no longer looked skinny and tiny; its fur was long and its body was plump. The little scar it had had on its hip was gone, and its claws were full length. All the food in its cage was gone. Kanthaya shook her head in amazement, suddenly realizing that perhaps an overdose could kill a human.


"Sorry little guy," she said to the rat as she took the body out of the cage. "But believe me, your death will serve a purpose. Time to find out exactly how you died..."

Kanthaya had six drops left, and so far she hadn't come to any solid conclusion. The temptation to try some, even just a drop, was getting to her. But not yet; she had much more work to do on the rat before she dared trying it on herself.






Running all night tends to give one the greatest of pleasures. It tends to make one think of the good old days, when laws forbade Vampires from doing their dirty work in the sunlight. It reminds one of what they truly are, in heart and soul; even when they think they're good, all have done wicked. Steel smiled to himself as at 3:30 AM he observed the campus of Crystal Lake University. "And you, my dear boy, are the worst runner of all. Riding a Werewolf? I couldn't think of a more pathetic way to escape, except maybe riding a human." Steel chuckled to himself as he walked the campus towards the male rich-Richie dorms.


Steel was now dressed in the outfit that a rich Asian exchange-student would be wearing; it had touches of Asian culture but also had the 'latest fads' in American, such as the jewels on the collar and the 'jeweled thread' that Joran so much liked to wear. Steel hated it; it disgusted him, but that was probably because Joran liked it. Steel's hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and a powder on his skin made it appear more flushed than it actually was. He had painfully shaved his very long fangs right before he left, and they were still throbbing; this was the first time he had shaved them in a century, as he usually worked at night and didn't have to worry about what he was. Of course, he was also wearing contax that made his eyes very dark brown. Using an Asian accent would be no problem.


As he meandered towards the dorm that Joran stayed in, he made certain to visit some buildings and was surprised to find some of them unlocked. He mostly visited the medical areas, and at one point startled a professor who (only hearing Steel pass by) apparently mistook him for someone else and ignored him. Steel had all the necessary keys to get into Joran's room, and he did so within an hour of arriving on the campus. He unlocked the door and sighed at the sight that greeted him; as usual, Joran's room was a mess and there on the ground in the center was the little robotic mouse that guarded it. Steel spoke something in Icelandic to it, and shut down at his command. He picked it up and put it in one of his pockets. Shutting and locking the door behind him, Steel immediately went to Joran's secret fridge/freezer and began to clear it of... well, evidence. He drank all the evidence actually, though not with much pleasure; he hated left-over blood.


Steel then proceeded to clear Joran's entire room of any evidence that he might not be human, including the coffin under his bed, which Steel (using his Vampiric speed) put in another Richie's room with a joke-note that said it was from someone else (Steel used a random Richie's name). After the room was clear and Steel had everything he needed, he left the room locked and exited through the window, landing lightly on the grass. Right as he landed, sirens suddenly caught his ears. His eyes narrowed and he hissed; there was no way they could have found him out! Indeed they hadn't, for as the sirens went on he realized they had stopped at the female Richie's residency. He grinned and watched as a helicopter arrived and took a body away. "Good, someone died as a distraction. How thoughtful."


Laughing quietly, Steel exited the campus and began to search around it for any signs of Joran. Unfortunately the lad was smart enough not to return to his room, but he couldn't have gone too far... not if he knew what Steel would do to his 'friends'...






Joran awoke with hazy memories of the day before. He took a deep breath and shuddered, realizing his head was covered with a blanket instead of its normal coffin-top. He sat up quickly and threw the blanket off his head, blinking and looking around. Two Werewolf guards (actually in human form at the moment) stared calmly at him from the door, but something about the look in their eyes told Joran they didn't really want him to come over and chat. Joran sat silently for a moment as the memories of the previous night rolled through his mind. He would have put it off as an awful dream, if he hadn't woken up in a warehouse with a damaged white rose next to him and some bags of... blood!


The moment he noticed it, Joran's hunger took over and he snatched one. He pierced two neat holes in it with his fangs and tried not to spill any as he quickly drank it up. He finished two blood-bags before wondering where Rals had gotten the blood, but did it really matter? Rals... yes, she was here, probably still sleeping. Joran made certain to be quiet. After drinking two bags of blood, Joran took a deep breath and grinned. Free! He was free! No longer did he have to pretend to be a human, no longer did he have to worry about his identity! It was wonderful; everyone was out to kill him or get information from him, but he was free! Joran smiled at the rose next to him, but frowned when he saw it was drying out. He licked his lips and gave himself a tiny cut on the hand with his fang, just large enough that a little blood would bleed to the top. He gently dipped the rose's stem in it and smiled as the rose immediately began to perk. He tried not to snicker as he thought of growing a rose from a Vampire, and he wondered what would happen if he swallowed a seed.


Joran set the rose down and hopped silently to his feet, full of energy. Pillows and blankets were still scattered about, and it gave him an idea. Using his speed and silence, Joran began grabbing all the spare pillows and blankets he could. When a Werewolf gave him a funny look, he whispered something to them and they seemed okay with it (though still they gave him a strange look), so he continued. He also noticed a bunch of clothes in the room and some other supply. As fast as possible, Joran began to organize the pillows and blankets in a specific manner, moving them in specific places to make... well, something. He then went and did the same to the clothes, folding some, rolling some, and just tossing others in specific places. He occasionally paused to look at his work. Overall this took him about three minutes. When he was done he took off his shoes and socks and threw them in the corner he had slept, where his pillow and blanket and jacket still remained. He looked over at what he had made with satisfaction.


Grinning to himself, he turned to face Rals' corner of the room. "Gooooood morning, Rals!" He called, not actually sure if she was there due to the metal boxes blocking off her corner. What he had done was organize the pillows and blankets to make the shape of a howling wolf, a HUGE howling wolf, and the clothes were scattered to make smaller wolves howling around it. He had made sure everything was lined up neatly so, if looked at from the right angle, it was easy to tell that they were in fact wolves. Joran was grinning with fangs happily exposed, but business was edging at his mind; he had a lot of questions, and answers, for Rals.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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((Good job with Kanthaya dear!))

Carmandy nodded at Arata and then stood up slowly. “You should probably go back to your home now. I will have a few of the pack members watch your house to make sure that you are safe as well, unless, that is, you wish to see the Crystal House?” Her gaze towards him was from the side as she looked at the nighttime stars. But she knew that things would take a while for him to enjoy. She disappeared into the brush for a moment, and came back out as a small wolf, one that barely stood at Arata’s height. Around her neck was her dress and shoes that she had worn. “If you wish to come, follow my scent. Our doors will be open to you.” She stated and then took off only to be distracted by Graham. She knew that he was probably angry about something and so decided to leave the young man alone or risk brawling with him. He was much larger than she was, and she had some brains telling her not to do anything stupid .


When she finally buckled down to run, her speed would have been impressive had there been any werewolves around her. Because of her size, it was easy for her to avoid obstacles as well s to avoid any dangerous looking ‘things’ in the forest. When she finally charged up the great mountain that held her home, she found herself wishing that she had not returned home for now every single werewolf and Vampyre was here and as soon as she walked into the clearing, they all converged on her wishing to gain details of the night before. With a loud snarl, she told them to back off quickly or risk having their face scratched even if it would heal quickly. “I wish only to sleep.” Was her response to most and she walked to the floor that was generally held for were wolves and sat there. It was quiet in the house as always and she was soon asleep in her wolf-kind form like a small pup after a whole days’ worth of running.


Back at the party, Zebulon and Jamila quickly dispersed the crowds and told them that the party was long over. Many thought that it was rather annoying to have to leave so they told them that they could leave the party, or leave a grade which usually had most of them running to their dorms and/or houses to get away from their tired anger.


Rollo and Xander had stood there for some time after Graham snarled back at Rollo. It seemed that Rollo was not intent on dealing with the outrage at the moment due to what had gone on earlier. But the boy would get what he deserved if he were to do it again…in fact, he would find himself in deep doggy doo doo the next morning if Rollo were to come across him in any way shape or form. Xander, on the other hand, was still contemplating why Rals would really save Joran. Of course they had all seen each other on campus, talked a little bit here and there…but nothing led him to think that she honestly liked the company of a sniveling youth. If he were right in his guesses, she had to be over 40 which meant that she had had time to consider what ‘love’ and ‘crushes’ were. Alas, even werewolves and Vampyres were subject to the whims of the heart and this Xander knew full well.


At a glance from the older being, Xander and Rollo ran with a few other members of the pack, as well as the rest of the professors back to the house. It seemed that Carmandy had already arrived by the hushed murmers going through the crowd but it didn’t worry them much. When the two Alphas reunited, Xander stepped back politely and spoke in hushed tones to Sissy who was a Vampyre from his own time. She dealt well with people and as soon as he told her what they had found out, she quickly set everyone right and sent them inside bidding them goodnight. The same was done for the werewolves and once all of the leadership were gathered, Xander retold all that he had heard along with the aid of Rollo.


When they were finished, it seemed as though no one could believe what in the world was going on, but indeed it was true. Xander repeated himself over and over again until he thought that he would run out of breath, but at least they now had something to discuss in the morning. It would be hard for everyone to accept, but they were in for darker times.




Marcy awoke with a start and realized that she was still in the same bedroom that she had been in earlier. It was odd though that she felt so at home, but she didn’t rightly care. Her dream hadn’t been disturbing except for the fact that her sons in the dream, were two separate ages instead of the twins that she had so longed to see.



Her hands and feet were still tied but that didn’t bother her really for now that she was finished with her throes of agony, they were loosened and easy to get off. As she moved, she could feel that the blanket was longer weighed down, but instead very light and soft, but warm blankets that felt as if they were made of downy feathers all over. When she looked, it seemed as if they shimmered like satin, but she didn’t really concentrate on that too hard.



While pressing her wrists together, she loosened the ribbon and pulled her wrists out together then untied her feet. Beside her she could see the dress slightly torn which was upsetting, but at least it wasn’t completely ruined. She sat the ribbons on the dress then wrapped herself in one of the blankets and stood up slowly. Her legs refused to be steady, but she didn’t much mind for she didn’t feel the need to beg for that serum. Her eyes were drawn around the room to the various textures and colors of red. It was the color of blood, hatred, anger, and passion. It was okay, but to have it without a break in the color for as far as she could see? Meh.


Her eyes finally fell on a suitcase that she realized was hers and after much searching, she finally found a bathroom in the same room that was not occupied…in fact, she didn’t even see Johan in the room. All she could see was his cane on the bed that weighted it down as if it were incredibly heavy which came to her as odd instead of interesting.


The bathroom itself was a massive, and gaudily done as the bedroom which made her feel like a queen must when she takes her showers and gets ready for her day. Her shower was quickly done and she stepped out of the shower refreshed, clean, and ready to see what today would bring her. She hoped that it wouldn’t be too terribly hard, but instead something that she could enjoy…except for…


Tears jumped into her eyes as she thought of her precious garden. How could anyone replace something that was so precious and so dear to her heart? That’s just it. No one could for no one could understand what it was to her. She dashed her tears away quickly before getting dressed in a simple pair of loose sweat pants that had a piano down the right pant leg, and a loose tanktop that was very comfortable. She was glad that Johan had picked a few clothes out because she honestly didn’t want to try and piece that dress back together to wear all day; what she was wearing now felt more like home.


Once she was sure that every last gram of makeup was removed, and that her hair had been brushed enough to dry it and make it shine, she took one last look in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom. Of course, she was barefoot as she almost always was. It took her a moment to make her way back to her dress and there she took a ribbon and tied her hair back in a high ponytail that caused her bangs to frame her face.


She felt refreshed now as she walked up to the large door that she was sure led to the rest of Johan’s house. It was something that would be incredible she was sure, but was she ready for this venture? Would she feel like a being down trodden by the ways of life? No. She couldn’t. Last night was incredibly vulnerable and she would not have another night like last for as long as she could muster. With a deep breath she opened the door and stepped out her feet padding gently on richly decorated floors. Everything was so beautiful in this house, it was easy to see that Johan had had a designer. As she walked down the stairs to the main floor, it almost felt taboo that she would even be here.


She didn’t dare call out Johan’s name, so instead she allowed herself to wander around the building until she found a kitchen. At the moment, she wasn’t really starving for it was either 7 or 8 o’clock, but boy was she thirsty. It took a moment for her to find the glasses, but once she did, she quickly filled the glass several times and drained its contents before she slowed down. Once she was sure that she wouldn’t die of thirst, she leaned against the counter, glass in hand and observed.

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Johan had awoken exactly two hours later when the door clicked, letting him know it was unlocked. Because the rest of the room was soundproof, that little noise had always been enough to wake him up, though Marcy's heartbeat had made it hard to fall asleep in the first place. He had experienced delicious dreams because of it though, most of them involving him partaking in said blood, but his eyes opened back to reality now, and he allowed such unconscious desires to pass out of mind.


He padded quietly to the bathroom, and took a quick shower, changing into some regular clothing. A white suit and pants with a red tie and undershirt as well as a red belt and pair of moccasins made of red leather. He tied his long hair back into a Japanese style ponytail with a black length of silk, and left the panic room, leaving Marcy to sleep until she woke naturally.


It was around five in the morning when he left the house, locking it down behind him. Marcy wouldn't be able to get out, but he was frankly more concerned with someone getting in than her attempting escape. She had given him her word after all. He headed straight back to Marcy's residence, and leapt over the garden wall, as Joran had when he had come by the day before, unbeknownst to Johan. Johan took out his phone and wedged it into the corner of the garden where the two walls met and quickly dialed a number.


"Johan?" A young girls form appeared suddenly on the tiny screen, "What are you doing up so early?"


Johan smiled, while most people imagined a servant as someone resembling a butler, or someone who bowed and strutted and spoke a certain way... Eve was none of those things. And as she reminded him very often, she and her elderly grandmother were his gardeners, not his servants. He had 'rescued' her from a life of exploitation that she endured to earn money to buy medicine for her ailing grandmother. She had a knack for plants and he had hired her as his gardener, and of course she knew he was a vampire and an ancient one... but that never seemed to bother her, she certainly treated him as if he were her older brother... sometimes as if he were her younger.


"Eve," Johan smiled, taking a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and placing them on his face. "I need your help on a little gardening catastrophe. I'm switching to my glasses, do you have yours?"


Eve disappeared from the picture for a moment and Johan heard her rummaging through her bag. "Yes just a moment, and what do you mean... oh..." She put her glasses on, now seeing the same thing Johan was seeing being relayed through the glasses he was wearing to hers, almost like virtual reality. "Johan what did you do? Wait, that's not your garden, where are you? Don't tell me you made this mess out of someone else's garden and want me to help you fix it, are you trespassing?"


Johan couldn't help but laugh lightly. "No I didn't make the mess... and I'm not trespassing exactly... I just want to know how to fix it... for a friend." Johan could see an image of her in his right eye and his left saw right through the glasses.


"A friend?" Eve asked, obviously curious and accusing, "the mind controlled, ghoul type or the, oh you're such a hot guy I just want to spend all my time around you, type..."


Johan rolled his eyes, "neither, a friend, just an ordinary friend... I guess. Fine a special friend, are you going to help or not?"


"Ooooh a special friend... yeah... coming from you that's entirely creepy, did you blackmail her or something?"


"I didn't even say it was a she..."


"Well you're not gay. Do you even know what the word friend means? Can you define it for me?"


Johan growled lightly into the receiver.


"Right, fine, show me the garden, and tell me what you hope to do." Johan scanned the garden slowly, allowing Eve to see the entirety of it. It wasn't large, but well organized, or at least it appeared to have been before... "you're sure you didn't tear it up? Those look like claw marks, familiar ones. I've seen what you do to those poor elm trees during your exercise sessions."


Johan shook his head, "they're not mine, but I know, they do look familiar. And I don't know of any wild animals that can hop a fence like this and be interested in tearing up plants. But I'll worry about that, how do I fix it?"


"Fix it?" Eve sighed over the phone, "Johan you don't fix plants, they're not machines, you have to love them and tend them. You can't just put them back together again. But... I'll show you what to do, only because I want to imagine you on your knees, in the dirt, making a fool of yourself, and a mess of that nice white suit at the same time."


Johan rolled his eyes, "You'll owe me blood for this."


Eve smiled, "You'll have to catch me first." She obviously enjoyed the fact that they were separated by several thousand miles. "Alright, from what I can see, none of this is really salvageable, at least it wouldn't be if you weren't an ancient leach." Leach Eve's adoring word for Vampire, Johan had learned to tolerate her, though he sometimes wondered how.


"My blood then?"


Eve nodded, "Yep, see how the garden was arranged, if you clear away all the stems, vegetables, and so forth, you can still see the rows and the pattern it was planted in. That should allow you to find the roots of each plant, dig them up and give them a dose of your blood and they should repair themselves, your blood would affect them much the same way it affects a human... except I don't think plants go through withdrawal."


Johan winced, and Eve noticed.


"You didn't!" She glared at him, "so that's how you made your special friend!" The disappointment and disapproval in her glare was a testament to the crush he knew she had on him, or perhaps it was that she wanted to turn him into a good person.


"Thank you Eve that will be all..." Johan hung up. "You can't make me something I'm not. Vampires are horrible creatures, and Vampyres are the same, simply in denial of that unchangeable fact..."


Johan got down and went to work, first clearing off the broken and shattered plants into a pile and tossing them out of the garden. Then he did as Eve had suggested, he found the root systems, deep enough that most of them hadn't been uprooted or moved from their original planting locations. He knew that in a week he could have ordered new dirt, new plants, even the same types and had the garden looking as if nothing had happened, but it wouldn't have been Marcy's garden then, for some reason it meant a lot to her, and he intended to find out why, and until then, he'd play it safe, besides... he'd never seen the effect of his ancient blood on a plant. A few drops had done wonder's to Marcy's body... what would they do to an apple tree?



He bit his wrist and allowed some of the dark red liquid to drip out onto the first plant, a tomato plant... time to find out.



Three Hours Later, now 8AM


Johan opened the door and entered his home away from home so long as he remained in America. His white suit was filthy with dirt, most of which he'd tried to wipe off, only so that he wouldn't be spreading it through his whole house. His door told him no one had come or gone since he had left, which was good. And also that the intruder was in the kitchen. He smiled... he would need to give Marcy her own key, simply so the house didn't try to get rid of the.. intruder.


He took off his moccasins and the outer jacket of his suit and pants. Stripping down to the T-shirt he wore underneath the dress shirt and the athletic shorts he wore... well under everything he ever wore. You never know when you're going to have to race off faster than your clothes can handle and have them tear up along the way, and it simply wouldn't do to go around streaking naked at forty odd miles per hour or so, even if no one could really see you. He tossed the clothes into the trash, no point in trying to remove the stains, and walked into the kitchen.


"Sorry I wasn't here to untie you, I hope you found anything you needed. Looks like you found the shower at least. I hope you don't mind the set of clothes I brought with... I must admit I wasn't sure what to bring of yours, not my area of expertise."


He walked over to her and placed a hand on her cheeks, squeezing gently to look into her mouth, and then at her pupils before nodding and taking a step back once more.


"Looks like you're going to be fine... We need to head back to your place and pick up anything else you'll be needing for the rest of the month, you'll be staying here for that period of time, not all day of course, but... at night at least, I want you where I can make sure you're safe. I'm not going to have some random jock kill you out of spite until I'm done with you. Until the end of the month you're mine, and I protect what is mine, for there are very few things in the world that achieve that status."

Edited by Rakashua

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Marcy was zoning out while following the gentle traces of gray through the countertops when she heard someone open the door. At first she was worried, but then knew that anyone coming into the house obviously had to have some sort of authority because Johan wouldn’t let them in otherwise. All of the sudden, she felt very underdressed especially if he or she were a Richie, but then again, why should she care at all? She was in Johan’s house and therefore either a guest or a possession.


When she could see that it was Johan, she just watched him. She didn’t smile, or even greet him. Really the only thing that Marcy did was note how his body seemed to be very muscular and looked as though he could tear her limb from limb as if her body were made of toothpicks and paper. The very thought made her wary, but when he walked over to her, she didn’t see any sort of anger in his eyes as of the moment.


“I did. I noticed that you had brought my suitcase, and the clothes were fine and comfortable which is what I need at the moment.” She said with a rue grin.


As he drew closer to her and placed his hands on her cheeks, she couldn’t help but wince enough to be seen, but when she noticed that he was just checking to make sure that she was alright, she complied to what he was doing and cleared her throat after he stepped back a bit. Her throat was still slightly sore much like her body, but she wasn’t that bad which she was very grateful for.


“A whole month?” She thought aloud and then remembered last night clearly. She had promised to learn from him and learn she would. “Well, since it isn’t that far of a walk…there are a few shortcuts that make it easier to get there.” She said and sat down the water. “Besides, best thing to do after a whole bunch of strain on the body, is to make it work again and work out the kinks.” She said roughly as she brushed by him and walked towards the door. One thing that she observed, was the dirty clothing in the trashcan. It was odd, who would waste something that could easily be cleaned?


The odd thing, is that she didn’t turn to pick up shoes, or even run upstairs to get her heels. Instead she opened the door quickly and then with a challenging smile towards Johan, she took off outside using a cross country stride that she had picked up when having to run from so many Richies over the past few years. Instead of following the path around the woods that separated the houses of the Richies and Poorlings on Campus, she instead dashed right into them like a elfin being destined to be one with her passion. Her footsteps were light as she landed on open dirt and avoided bushes, leaves and twigs as she allowed herself to go free. She knew that Johan would always be able to find her and to catch up to her, so this wasn’t a try for freedom.


As her legs warmed up to the exercise, Marcy found the ache in her body going away quickly which allowed her to move at a slightly faster pace. The only thing that disappointed her, is that it was no where near the speed that she had had that one day with the serum. Even so, running was still something that she enjoyed.


It took her 10 minutes to pass through the flora on to the other side which is where her house lay molested and injured from whatever sick being that had tortured her garden. Her door was closed and locked and she walked in keeping her eyes averted from her garden not even looking in it’s general direction. She didn’t want to be reminded of the pain of having something so dear taken away twice.


She kept her breathing steady as she walked into her room and closed the shades that allowed her to see the garden. Now she could work in peace. To be honest, she didn’t much to live by. As a Poorling, you generally had only two pairs of clothes; one for summer and one for winter. The luxury that she now had of having several pairs, was something that she was still getting used to so her clothes easily fit into a duffel bag. What it contained was the necessary under clothes, but also a pair of jeans, a pair of yoga pants, one full length skirt, and one that came down to mid-thigh. For tops she had her normal jacket and white shirt as well as a few others. Nothing was dirty and as she placed them in the duffel bag, Johan would have noticed one thing. She was meticulous in folding them the same way as well as placing them in the bag so that they wouldn’t wrinkle. Her shoes were wrapped in bags in her closet when she opened it further. She took each bag, opened it to make sure that the shoes were taken care of, then rewrapped them and placed them in the bag as well: Two pairs of tennis shoes, as well as a single pair of hiking/winter boots were in the bags.


Once she was sure that those few items were taken care of, she walked into her small bathroom and quickly placed whatever else she may have needed into a small little bathroom bag then placed it in a bag which she then placed inside of her duffel bag.


Her back pack was in the living room where she had left it. Homework was laying there on her table which she had had done earlier so as to make it easier on herself. She picked it up, tapped it on the table to align the uncrinkled papers, then placed them in a perfectly kept folder that was in her backpack and sat both on the couch.


With reverence, Marcy grabbed the music books that were on her piano and placed them in her back pack as well. She was grateful that it was made of Kevlar so that it wouldn’t fall apart. She carred all of her books with her at all times making the pack rather heavy, but it kept her strong.


The entire time though, her back was turned to her garden, her love. Little did she know as well, that at the end of her garden, in the forest that could easily afford someone a view into her house, a green eyed being looked into her room with a saddened smile, then disappeared.


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A green-eyed being wasn't the only one watching Marcy; a pair of hateful red eyes had caught sight of her romp through the forest and grew curious of her intentions. Steel normally didn't get curious over such pesky little things, but Marcy certainly didn't look like a Richie and didn't come from the campus. Plus, she was dashing through the woods, ignoring trails, and Steel was practically standing in her way when he heard her coming. He silently snuck out of sigh and was hidden an entire minute before she arrived. Then he watched her, his eyes hateful but not towards her; he just always held a hateful look when observing a human. Steel had always wondered if there was any human capable of gaining his respect or perhaps impressing him, but so far there were none.


This particular human was beautiful and very healthy, but the scent she had... it wasn't totally her own. There was the scent of a male surrounding her, as though she had been in his house recently. Steel smirked at the thought and decided to follow her. Perhaps she knew Joran and he could ask her when she arrived at her destination. At the moment he was stuffed on blood and saw no reason to kill her unless she was some great friend of Joran's. So Steel kept a good distance between them and followed far to her left. In the hours of the morning that the sun had been rising, Steel had been pleased to find out that one of the students had been attacked by a 'vicious, wild animal' and the her roommate was 'missing.' Of course, it wasn't the work of Joran; not many people knew, but Joran had never drank blood directly from a human or anything and had never even seen another Vampire drink blood directly from the host. Joran had potential--the main reason Steel was so pleased to see him gone--but the kid was far too sensitive to life to be worth anything.


Steel decided to forget about it for a while and instead silently followed the attractive human. She arrived at a... what was it called? A 'Poorling' residency and entered. Steel read her body language and noticed that she purposely avoided looking at the garden in the yard. It was a rather messy garden that looked like it had just been planted. The rows weren't exactly straight and whoever had done it wasn't a professional. Steel frowned and patiently waited in the woods, breathing steadily and keeping his eyes and ears open for anyone who might be following the Poorling. He wasn't really interested in her if she didn't have any information about the little Vampire pesk, but for all he knew she could be Joran's best friend. After all, as Steel knew well, Joran was extremely social (also a weakness of his) and knew practically everyone. Steel simply watched and waited, his expression back to its normal unreadableness. The 500 year-old Vampire studied the house carefully for memory.

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Johan allowed Marcy to go without protest, and he even considered allowing her to go alone and take care of things. But he wanted to see her reaction to the garden, he wanted to know why it meant so much, and how much it meant. and that meant... seeing her reaction.


Her challenging smile as she raced off caused him to raise an eyebrow, she certainly was feeling better, that was good, and she still seemed the same girl he had stalked for a half semester. Also good.


Before following her he went back down to the panic room and retrieved his cane, scolding himself for leaving it where she could have discovered its true weight. He also took a few seconds to put on a pair of cheap slacks with a belt because apparently walking around in jogging shorts with a cane simply looked ridiculous.


Marcy had a three minute head start on him, but her scent was easy to follow, especially since he was moving against the wind. Soon he entered the forest, forests were fun places, he loved to rush through them like the wind. The trick, was to move as fast as possible without so much as breaking a branch or a twig, incredibly hard, and very good practice. Now wasn't the time though, he was content just to follow her... scent.


Another scent caught his nose, faint, male, foreign, not something he'd smelt before, though his catalogue of smells was not something granted him by his photographic memory, so perhaps he'd smelled it and perhaps he hadn't. But this scent mixed with hers, and shadowed it... was she being followed? Already? No one of her enemies should have been sober or awake enough to make a move on her already...


He quickened his pace, and masked his movements, switching into the mode he used when stalking prey, human... or no. He was immediately thankful to be wearing his moccasins as they made virtually no noise against the ground or rocks. His fancy shoes would have been a dead give away with their hard bottoms, but this... was better than barefoot.


And then he saw the man, though Marcy was now barely in sight range, this man was following her, behind her, and he was good, too good. Johan could pick out a predatory cat faster than this individual, and a predator he was. His movements were graceful, his feet made virtually no sound. He was moving quickly, quietly, and was barely breathing, not something one would expect from someone straining their muscles in that way. Unless of course, like Johan, there was no strain because of the sheer strength they held.


He was Asian, and he didn't try to hide it, his body movements, his clothing, hair, skin tone, all said foreign. And from what Johan could see, he wasn't a student Johan had ever seen before. Johan of course didn't stalk everyone, the internet did that for him. But he did keep track of all foreign students in the area and in attendance, because they would be variables to his plans that he couldn't predict as well as Americans, he avoided them all, and this one he had no memory of ever seeing.


He juggled all these things in his mind and came to a few facts.


This man was stalking Marcy, for whatever reason, he was following her and observing her.


This man was either new to campus, a brand new student joining mid semester, or he was a foreigner. Either way he wasn't connected to the local populous, and therefore killing him and leaving the body was acceptable.


There had already been one near killing, an animal attack, as the police report read, this morning, and Johan knew just why. It wouldn't be hard to make this man's body look the same way and have everyone assume the same thing.


This man may not be a man, more likely a vampire, vampyre, or werewolf. In which case he would be harder to kill, but he didn't look old, so Johan was confident that one on one combat would end in his favor.


Johan had no qualms with killing him, but information was first. And of course, this meant this man or vampire whatever... would know Johan was a vampire, which ensured his demise if he was human, and made it a more than likely outcome if he was not...


By now Johan had been timing his footfalls with the stranger's, getting closer, only a hundred yards away. But then the came to the tree line, and the stranger stopped, and started to pay closer attention to his surroundings. Johan knew there was no reason to sneak any further.


He popped a clip and his sword slid silently out of its sheath.


"That human is mine!" His voice was a whisper, if the man wasn't human, he would have heard it. "Don't try to run, I can outrun you, don't try to hide, I can find you, there's no escape, and I have no qualms with killing a foreigner new to this area. So listen carefully if you want to live..."


Johan began heading towards the man. He would take several steps as a blur from left to right, and then stand still in the center again, making it appear as if he was walking forward at a normal pace, but appearing to get closer and closer as each apparent step carried him several meters. If Steel didn't go anywhere, he stopped a dozen meters away.


"My name is Johan Tiberius Hawk, and I'm quite positive that I'm several centuries your elder. Tell me why your here, why you're following my human, and try and come up with a very creative reason why I shouldn't kill you to protect my identity and my property..." he nodded towards Marcy as he said the word Property. To many non humans... that's what humans were, human lovers, human ghouls, drug addicts, slaves, mind washed individuals, Johan had seen it all.




"You're making me late... Why don't we start with what you are, shall we...?"


Johan swung his sword with one hand, chopping a good ways through a large oak as if it wasn't even there, to prove his point.








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Steel smiled as a tiny, tiny click caught his ears. Immediately his mind worked to assess it;


It wasn't a normal click, and it was maneuvered by a skilled hand. No normal human could hear it.

It wasn't an explosive, and the hand that clicked it wasn't tense. Oh, Steel loved playing this game.

The being that clicked it was quite used to clicking it which probably meant it was a weapon.


"That human is mine!" A beautiful, beautiful sound to Steel's ears; the sound of another Vampire. Not only that, but the whisper meant that this particular Vampire had been following him long enough to realize that he too was a Vampire. Yet the voice was definitely not Russian, nor was it Icelandic; whoever it was hid their accent well. It wasn't Joran, that would have been Steel's last guess. Whoever it was had experience on his side or was really stupid--Steel could tell by the sound of the voice. He also held the female human in high value, whether as a body or a soul. Steel smiled as a warmth filled his heart. It had been so long since he had interacted with an intelligent being outside of the Bampaia family.


"Don't try to run, I can outrun you, don't try to hide, I can find you, there's no escape, and I have no qualms with killing a foreigner new to this area. So listen carefully if you want to live..."


Steel tried not to laugh. His shoulders moved gently in a laughing motion as the being closed the distance between them. Steel still hadn't turned to look at the man; he could see all he needed through his other senses. Yes, this man had the scent of the young woman. She was definitely his pet, mistress, or slave. He definitely wanted her, and his voice had just a hint of unconfidence that Steel sucked into his very soul. He loved it, loved weakness, but it wasn't enough weakness; this Vampire's very voice proclaimed experience and determination. The man's footsteps stopped about twelve meters away, and Steel finally stood, stretching his shoulders. He graced the man with a glance, then turned back to watching the house of the young woman.


"My name is Johan Tiberius Hawk, and I'm quite positive that I'm several centuries your elder. Tell me why your here, why you're following my human, and try and come up with a very creative reason why I shouldn't kill you to protect my identity and my property..."


Johan Tiberius Hawk. The Vampire now had a reason to kill Steel. He nodded slowly, absorbing the voice and strength of the other Vampire. It was addicting, finding someone who would be a challenge. Yet the mission came first. He took a deep breath, scenting the other male with a small smile. Yes, he was quite a bit older, but he was... not what Steel was looking for. If he owned the little human, than neither was she. Steel turned around, this time gracing Johan with his entire face and a smile.

"You're making me late... Why don't we start with what you are, shall we...?"


Steel couldn't help but smile further as the older male tried to assert his position and dominance by smashing a little tree with his sword. Okay, it was a huge oak and the move was effortless, but Steel had seen greater feats by Jarl Ulran. Ulran was older than this Vampire, Steel was certain of it. "Master Vampire," he greeted in a raspy Asian voice, "I meant your property no harm. Her body and spirit fascinated me, and whilst I was looking for another she caught my attention. Forgive my intrusion." He dipped his head, his expression a pleasant smile as always. "I too am a Vampire, and I have many property similar to her; I do not need her." Steel had watched closely the arm motion of Johan when he had chopped the tree; the way he held the sword, dealt the blow, and the expression on his face. It fascinated Steel, and told him the man could not possibly a Vampyre and probably was not American.


"You are my elder, Master Vampire; I beg your forgiveness, for my eyes have wandered to the wrong female. To answer your questions, I know no one of the name 'Hawk' so your identity is safe, although as you likely realized I have been studying your entire being carefully for my own safety. Especially if you have important business with that female or the Americas, you do not want to mess with my family." The last sentence was said with a hint of nastiness, but then his voice returned to normal. "Speaking of which, I am looking for a young Nordic Vampire by the name of Joran Baalgruf. He would be pretending to be an American student here, and he is a very young Vampire, only eighteen. His family... they are interfering with my own goals, and I do intend his death."


There was no reason to be dishonest with this interesting stranger; nothing in Steel's stance indicated he was lying, nothing in his voice or any scent he let off indicated it either. He had practiced for years, and he actually hadn't lied; Joran's family was interfering with his goals, and if he had the power he would do away with all of them... with the possible exception of Nuna. A pleasant smile stayed put on his face, and he did not draw a weapon although he had two neat silver pistols (made in China). He had nothing against Hawk or anything he was doing here, not now, and he didn't want to waste time fighting a battle that he predicted he probably could not win. If this Vampire could tell him what had become of the stupid child, then perhaps his mission would be quick and effortless. If not... well, at least Mr. Hawk had been a refresher to the mind, something to mentally feed on: power, authority, prowess, knowledge... everything that impressed Steel and everything he intended to be.

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Johan sheathed the sword back into his cane, it wouldn't be needed here. This man was not his elder in years, but he had experiences that Johan lacked, he was a killer, his pleasant tone, his body, all betrayed nothing of fear, nothing of the desire to run. He was cold, calculating, a machine, a weapon, and he was on a mission of which he spoke. From this Johan knew that in many ways the two of them were similar, but also completely different.


This man would not enjoy a game of chess, carefully crafted and planned out, a game no one knew they were playing until the first pass of check and checkmate. No, he would be blunt, to the point, showy, dominant, and quick. And because of this, Johan would let him go.


"A powerful family with reaching influence from another country, working together, with operatives carrying out their dirty work, but with a great sense of family line and tradition, hence someone like Joran is giving someone like you, trouble. Not an Asian family though, you're not a member, and they don't act like you would, no, Asian and London are my areas, that leaves really few choices, but I'm not interested." Johan nodded, "you are a weapon, and a calculator, but you're not nearly patient enough to be the one giving the orders, but you are ambitious, so you manipulate, but it's hard for you to wait a long time to get what you want, prone to aggression, in my experience you will get what you seek, so congratulations."


Johan closed the distance between them, standing about an arm's length away now he took in the vampire's scent in one long breath. Then he spoke very softly.


"But I did not live eighteen hundred years to be threatened by one vampire, or a family of them. If you interfere with what I have set in motion here, I won't have second thoughts about making my next century long project the destruction of the entirety of the lineage you work for."


Johan smiled suddenly in a very cordial, inviting way. "I've lived too long to desire allies, or the services of someone such as yourself, but I do enjoy games, and I enjoy the one you're playing, I would like to see you win it, I would like to aid your ambitions. So this is the offer I will make you in exchange for your life. You will abide by two rules here, regardless of what anyone else says. That girl is Marcy Livingstone, you will not come within a hundred yards of her while you are here under any circumstances and, you will not kill any humans while on any property owned by this campus or those who live and work here. If you follow these simple rules, I will let you live. I don't make friends, but there are many benefits to having me as an acquaintance. If you agree to this, them meet me tonight, at midnight, here in this same spot, and I will give you information that you seek, and something else that will help you succeed in your ambitions."


Johan was done talking with the man, he had spent time on him, longer than he had wanted. But the man was not a pawn, he was a more important piece on the board because his controllers were a powerful family of vampires to which Joran belonged directly as family it seemed. This vampire and his work here, because of the kind of man he seemed to be, would only help Johan, drag accusation away from him, and allow him to work without being suspect to anything.


He walked past the man, his shoulder brushing against the other's as he made his way over to Marcy's house. As he arrived at the garden wall and peeked over it, it appeared that she hadn't noticed it yet... which was odd, and it also seemed like she was about done and ready to leave.


He hopped over the fence and landed amongst the plants, quickly moving to the glass sliding door he knocked on it to get her attention, and cause her to look and see what he had done. He stored everything about his encounter in it's own compartment in his mind, and then left it there, moving his thoughts back to Marcy.

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Marcy was about to walk out the door when she heard a knock behind her. It was odd to hear someone behind her, but she was afraid to look for then she would see her garden again and see the torture there that lay only around 80 ft behind her. She didn’t want to, but since Johan wasn’t there, she might as well…


When she turned around she, at first, focused in on Johan who was standing there looking as though he expected something from her. It was an odd expression on the man, but she could still see it there. What happened next was something that she normally would not have done. In an instant, she was at the door, her backpack and duffel bag thrown to the ground and the sliding glass door open. With hands shaking in joy, surprise, and happiness, she gently stepped past Johan to look at the garden that was there, now looking just as healthy as she had left it before she had left for the party. Each of them had fruit there to spare and as she looked at them, her meticulous and precise mind recording the placement of each leaf from the plants before, she could see that these were the same plants. They gave of fruit in the exact same place and their leaves were the same size and shape as well as in the same placements as before.


“Impossible….” She breathed outward as she said the word and slowly knelt by her favorite bell peppers and gently held a leaf in her hand before walking over to the apple tree that had been scarred and broken and it was now whole. She stared up at the tree then looked down at the roots around it. While there, her gaze was directed downward where she was able the two stones that marked her sons in his garden where their ashes had been spread. On one stone, as it lay hidden underneath sod just enough to allow on the first letter of the first name to be seen, there was a name. If one were to unearth said stone, it would have the name ‘Axel Xavier Livingstone’. It’s brother stone next to it did the same with the first letter of the first name and held the name ‘Beau James Livingstone’. They were the names that she had chosen for her sons long before they were born.


When she knelt by the stones, she kissed her fingertips, then gently placed them on the two brother stones. It was another moment, as if she wished for them to rise from their graves and be revived like a great phoenix. Alas they would not be revived.


Her body bid her stand and stand she did for she was so elated, that she could do nothing other than show happiness. Despite all Johan had done, and all that she hated him for, at that moment, she truly and without inhibitions, loved him. She turned around and walked across the garden, her bright blue eyes on his own the entire time. It was odd for her to hold human eye contact this long, but at the moment, she didn’t care.


Once she arrived before Johan, she gently took his face in her hands and kissed him ever so softly before encircling her arms around his waist. All sense of propriety was lost in her joy even as tears of said joy coursed down her cheeks. Sobs did not come, and words would not come until she stepped back from him. “For someone who can do this, fix the impossible…bring plants back that are genetically the same in every way to those that I had lost, to you I owe more than you will ever know.”


After looking at him once more, she walked by him, a smile still on her face as she quickly dusted herself as best she could, then picked up her back pack and her duffel bag.

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It was almost too much fun, listening to the man before him. Steel loved the rush of emotions that ran through him; some of them wanted to kill Johan Hawk, others wanted to work with the interesting man, while others despised him. It was just how Steel's mind worked; always divided, yet always adhering to his final decision... which, in this case, was to observe. The Vampire was powerful, yes; his stance and tone showed this... but he wasn't a cold killer. He had the look in his eye that Steel so despised, and 99% of the beings outside of Russia that Steel had ever met had that look; it was the look of someone who cared for someone else, someone who had something to protect and who would be broken without that something, someone who hated something about himself that he couldn't change. It was weakness in Steel's eyes, though he had seen a few remarkable beings use it for strength. It was a weakness that Steel loved to prey on... but not in this case. No, he wasn't interested in fighting this interesting person, perhaps simply because of how interesting the interesting person happened to be at that moment.


"Not an Asian family though, you're not a member, and they don't act like you would, no, Asian and London are my areas, that leaves really few choices, but I'm not interested." Asia and London. Steel smiled. No, he wasn't very good at acting Asian; they were so boring and so structured. However, he wasn't very Icelandic or Nordic either. He was a lot like the Vampires of the Soviet Union (which was of course quite dissolved by now), who still all acted Russian. Perhaps that was where the Master Vampire thought he was from. Steel's light smile never left his lips. He had taken note of how Johan sheathed his sword.


"You are a weapon, and a calculator, but you're not nearly patient enough to be the one giving the orders, but you are ambitious, so you manipulate, but it's hard for you to wait a long time to get what you want, prone to aggression, in my experience you will get what you seek, so congratulations." Steel held back pleased laughter again as Johan spoke. He was good, quite good, but Steel supposed that even if Johan knew why he was here, it wouldn't matter; Johan obviously had something he was interested in that had nothing to do with the Bampaia family. Yes, you're close, boy; a weapon, a calculator, ambitious... but you've got one thing wrong. Let's see how long it takes you to figure it out, if you ever do.


The Master Vampire closed the distance and took a noticeably deep breath, which Steel matched and took in unison. Yes, Hawk had definitely been close to the young woman last night. "But I did not live eighteen hundred years to be threatened by one vampire, or a family of them. If you interfere with what I have set in motion here, I won't have second thoughts about making my next century long project the destruction of the entirety of the lineage you work for." Steel laughed lightly, because in all honesty that was exactly what he wanted; the destruction of the entire lineage. Heck, he wouldn't care if Hawk destroyed every Vampire in Russia, though that might make life extremely boring for a while. But he respected Johan's own ambition, so he decided not to attempt to pull the much older Vampire into that sort of trap. The strange thing was, Johan didn't look eighteen hundred years old. Steel took note of this.


Then Johan smiled, which lessened Steel's own smile considerably. "I've lived too long to desire allies, or the services of someone such as yourself, but I do enjoy games, and I enjoy the one you're playing, I would like to see you win it, I would like to aid your ambitions. So this is the offer I will make you in exchange for your life." Well, that was interesting. Steel still didn't feel threatened by the older Vampire, but he listened curiously to what rules he might break if he sought 'death'. "You will abide by two rules here, regardless of what anyone else says. That girl is Marcy Livingstone, you will not come within a hundred yards of her while you are here under any circumstances and, you will not kill any humans while on any property owned by this campus or those who live and work here. If you follow these simple rules, I will let you live." Steel liked these rules; despite wanting power, he was almost addicted to fun little rules like the ones Johan was giving. They were specific, unique... and if broken, they brought unique circumstances. Everyone knows you're executed for murder, but who knows what would happen if you touch Marcy Livingstone? Yes, Steel wouldn't touch her, but the second part of the agreement bothered him. However, his smile increased when he heard it. I understand; this is your hunting ground. Very well, I can abide by those rules for now... which must mean Joran's no longer here.


"I don't make friends, but there are many benefits to having me as an acquaintance. If you agree to this, then meet me tonight, at midnight, here in this same spot, and I will give you information that you seek, and something else that will help you succeed in your ambitions." Information? Interesting. He's not stupid enough to lead me into a trap, I suppose. It seems he might know Joran somehow, though he doesn't seem like the type Joran would attempt to befriend. Idiots tend to hang out with idiots, after all. Steel kept the smile on his face and stared straight ahead as Johan brushed by him. Yes, this man enjoyed Steel's arrival here, and Steel was absolutely interested in working... well, not with him, but alongside him in a way. He felt a rush of pleasure and temptations as Johan's shoulder brushed his. He stood still for a moment, and then his eyes lit up and he turned towards Johan and came to the very edge of the woods. He opened his mouth to speak, but then decided it could wait. Yes, Johan was busy; what he had to say would wait.


The garden... that was the one Joran had destroyed, or one of them. It obviously meant something to either Johan or his pet Marcy, because it was now apparent to Steel that the only way the garden could look as it was is if someone had pulled out the roots of plants and replanted them... and the only way they'd grow back was with Vampire blood. Oh, Steel couldn't wait to tell Johan Hawk who had destroyed the garden...


Perhaps our paths will cross, my friend. You owe me more than you think...

Edited by LadyNatasha

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Johan stood, watching her reaction. He was surprised at how dramatic it was... what could this garden possibly mean to her, she wasn't OCD... and yet, she seemed to cherish it as much as her own life, she reacted even more strongly than when he had allowed her to play on Big Ben the great piano, and that was saying something. Then he saw the two stones, part of them at least, with part of an engraving, and then she kissed her fingers and placed them to each stone individually as if they were... alive. So that was the big mystery, this wasn't a garden... it was a grave.


But that alone raised many other questions, who was buried here? Two identical graves, in the same place, close to her heart, but not parents, for her mother was alive, not brothers because they were accounted for... grandparents would be too far off for a love this strong. So that left... children? But he had researched her... there had been nothing about children in what he had found, albeit her recent history seemed a bit sparse, but children? Two? They had to have been twins in that case. Johan left it at speculation however, he wouldn't bring it up to her, he didn't need to know, not yet, and in time... she may tell him herself, that was her prerogative.


He felt his fangs grow a few centimeters when she kissed him, her blood filled lips meeting his face, the scent alone was enough to make him desire to sink his fangs into her skin... the touch itself made it all that much stronger. But her trust, and her closeness, also helped him fight his animal urge to feed. She embraced him, crying into his chest and he held her gently. Then she broke the embrace and he let her go.


“For someone who can do this, fix the impossible…bring plants back that are genetically the same in every way to those that I had lost, to you I owe more than you will ever know.”


Johan nodded in understanding, "there are somethings... that I can't do." His gaze fell again on the two stones, they were beyond his power, or any power on earth for that matter. He had once set himself up as god over a cult nation... many many centuries ago. But he had matured since then, he knew there was a God, a real one, or several perhaps. Beings that could do things he could not, no matter how long he lived and powerful he became.


His gaze met hers again. "But you, are mine." He motioned to the garden, "and this... is part of what that means. And it means much more than that, to be mine. It isn't slavery, or being owned, not as you would first think. Rather, you are my territory, for now, no less human, no less your own person, but until our contract is over, I will take care of you. And I won't tolerate anyone or anything bringing harm to you."


He glanced at the garden once more and sighed, this was going to be a snag in his plans... but maybe one he would enjoy... maybe.


"I can see that tending to you... is going to include allowing you to tend to this. I think I can live with that." He nodded in approval, and turned, heading back into the house to carry what she had packed. "It's beautiful by the way..." he commented as he entered, "your smile. Perhaps I can find other ways of encouraging you to use it more often. Now come, you can return to tend to them... once I have you settled where you'll be sleeping."

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Marcy was rather surprised when Johan took her bags, but she still had listened to what he had said about her. She didn’t much mind being his ‘territory’ as long as he didn’t think that it meant her being a slave. Of course, because of what he had done, she would be forever indebted to him, although she would probably NEVER tell him that…EVER. It would be something that she would dread telling someone for there had only been once when she considered owing someone with her life but he had failed her. If Johan didn’t fail her, then maybe, just maybe, she would really allow herself to owe him everything.


At first she was going to comment on how hard it would be to not let anything harm her. Would he kill all of the bacterium in the world that were harmful to human beings? Strip all roses of their thorns? Ha! He could try and fail miserable for there would always be another rose bush and another strain of bacterium that would defy him for he was only human. Also, he couldn’t prevent her from using a knife to make her supper now could he? A bemused smirk had crossed her face when he said that which he did, but now a look of bashfulness, almost embarrassment lit her cheeks with a deep red blush.


It was hard for her to even consider respond to him, and she couldn’t for her tongue was tied. He really complimented her smile! Only a few had done that in her life. One person was her younger brother when their mother first told them that she was sick, the second was Sheehan, and now Johan. Why was it always men?


She cleared her throat then looked back at the garden once more at the garden and a tender, almost maternal smile came over her face as she regarded the dream that she had had last night. Albeit the siblings looked to be separate in age, but they had the characteristics that her sons had had when she had first seen them. One with dark hair and blue eyes, and the other with sandy hair and blue eyes…so blue.


“You can’t bring back the dead Johan, and no one blames you for that. But you have brought back my nearest and dearest connection.” She said and shut the door after them as they walked out of her house. She locked it firmly and with a silent prayer, she left her home to go back to Johan’s.


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