Dancing with Fate

[Rosier Moore]

Rosier Moore was nothing less than an odd man. One might think he were severely insane if they did not know why he acted in such a way. In truth he was simply independent; a murderous vampire who would feast upon anyone (to a point), who was also petrified of his own kind. With no one to spend time with he had to amuse himself. There were numerous ways of accomplishing this for Rosier. Luring a promiscuous person out of a bar for a snack. Chasing around children, or scaring people in the alleys.

But sometimes he would do something a little more eccentric. Something not harmful to anyone else, that might not even make sense to passerby's. These things were always spurs of the moment, where he would just decide that, 'yep, I want to do this today. Right now. And no one's gonna stop me."

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how Rosier Moore found himself atop a ledge in the alleyways, singing his heart out.

"When death comes, he will not wait-"
The vampire bellowed, arms stretched out as he looked down at the thin ledge he walked on. It was not terribly high; if he was at his wits ends and fell, he would get hurt. But not that badly.
Though Rosier was not entirely about himself. He was indeed drunk, having sucked the life out of a horribly drunk, large man, just half an hour before.

"-he will not stand nor hesitate-"
Rosier nearly slipped off the edge, halting his singing to giggle nearly uncontrollably. It almost caused him to fall off once more. The man smirked, getting cocky as he shut his eyes. His chin to the sky, smile ablaze, he continued to walk the edge.

"-he’s often early, rarely late-"
He started to sing louder, laughing as he did so with glee in his voice. But suddenly he flung his eyes wide open, nearly tripping off of the edge as his foot nearly stepped off. His breathing got heavy as he quickly backed away. Nearly tripping onto the roof behind him. His breathing slowed, but was still heavy as he began to stare over at the edge. His voice grew quiet.

"...and invites us all to meet our fate..."
The last line was a mutter, as he stared over the edge. His mind itched for him to take the leap. To join his family. He shook his head, rubbing at his face with frustration.
This was why he did not drink. Without the alcohol he thought clearly. He felt no humanity within him. But with it, it was as if he was human again. Yearning for the touch of another, the affection, the love. And the only way he would get it was with his dead parents.
Slowly he leaned farther over the edge, then cursed to himself as he backed up.

No. Not today.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda sighed, walking along the rooftops, looking up at the stars. It was a content sigh, the content sigh of a vampire who had just killed and fed nicely. After scaring the two men until they wet their pants of course. And she didn’t even need the illusion magic that Julien or Coriander used. It would be a nice touch though. Dive into their minds to find that one great big fear, pluck it out and make it real for them. She supposed she’d learn in time, but honestly, how long does it take a person to do any magic? Veranda was not gifted with the ability at all. It never really bothered her before, but now things were different. Now she was immortal.

She paused her steps and her musing, hearing singing in the air. She looked to the side, and saw a rather interesting spectacle. A man standing on the ledge, singing out drunkenly about death. It was like he was screaming Cori’s calling card. She watched, amused as he stumbled, nearly tripping. She could smell blood on the air, and alcohol. Her nose cringed at the smell, only because her mouth watered. But she was getting better. Being a recovering alcoholic wasn’t easy, even if your diet becomes strictly blood. But she was getting better, learning how to turn away. Learning how to deal with the things that happened to her. And a lot of that was getting out and practicing, and meeting new friends. She rather liked Jordan, and he seemed good for her. She didn’t know why, but she was glad to have a friend who was alive, liked being alive, and wasn’t obsessed with death. It gave her some perspective. Taught her how to fix her own mess of a life. And maybe she liked the idea of having her own little secret.

She turned, walking towards the drunk vampire, whose singing had quieted down a lot. He stared out over the ledge, as if entranced, and for a moment she thought he’d fall forward. Falling head first from that height would be a rather painful experience for him. But he managed to pull back, though he looked terribly distressed. Veranda wasn’t the only vampire with demons that alcohol brought out. She stepped up to the edge of the roof she stood on, which was opposite of the one the other vampire stood on. She looked him up and down a moment, completely amused. Was this how she was? Was this how Julien and Coriander viewed her before? She certainly came a long way since then.

“What’s the matter?” She called, crossing her arms, one hip popped out as she stood, wearing tight black pants and one of Julien’s shirts, which she kept snug to her body by a new, black lace corset she bought the other night. On her back was her short sword, one of the two visible blades she had. She used to carry hundreds of hidden blades, but dropped the number significantly. Her short sword on her back, her dagger at her hip, the two hidden blades in her boots, and the small hidden blades up her sleeves, five on each arm.

“Are the ghosts talking to you tonight?” She inquired, head tilted, fangs glittering as she smiled. “Saying anything new?”

[Rosier Moore]

At first Rosier just looked up. A slight tilt in his head as the woman spoke to him. He nearly gave out a sigh- wanting to be left alone to wallow in his own self pity. Contemplate his family. He had no time for games, in his mind.
What was a woman like that doing out here in the middle of the night, anyhow?

But something caught his eye. A glitter in her mouth. Just shiny teeth perhaps? He hoped, and he thought wrong. As soon as he noticed the fangs, his eyes went a little wider, and he backed up slightly. Heartbeat racing. Fear instantly swam through him. But he tried to control it, smiling and shrugging.

"Sadly they're saying the same old things again," he replied.

Nothing at all, he thought to himself bitterly, fixing the vest he wore so it was more straight.
He wore the same old clothing he usually wore; a button up shirt under a barman's vest, with nice trousers and a band covering his teeth scared wrist. His black eyes seemed to disappear with the night, whereas his blood red hair seemed to light up.

He gulped down the lump in his throat.

"Enough about me," he said, hands beginning to shake. Would he try to attack him? Leave him alone soon? The smile continued to shine on his face as he attempted to hide his fear and suffering.

"What's a beautiful young woman doing out here so late at night?" he asked. Perhaps she was an escort of sorts. Though he didn't think she would brandish a weapon like that if she were- hidden weapons, yes. Not visible ones.

"I mean, not even just that. You're on the roofs," then he got curious, and let it get the best of him. Though his fear told him not to. "Doing anything special up here, love?"

Shivers went down his spine as he uttered the word; he called every lady 'love'. At this point it was instinct, even to this other vampire. Young, old, newly acquainted. Merely a sign of respect; especially to those he was about to have for dinner. But to say it to a vampire? It frightened him. The word hardly had meaning when said to her.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda watched as the vampire looked at her, watched as he seemed to process what he was looking at, then registered the emotion he felt. He feared her! The idea was laughable, but it was true! She could see it in his eyes and the way he moved, stepping back, toying with his clothes. He was afraid! Ha! It only made her grin wider.

“They always say the same old things. That’s why it gets boring listening to them.” She said, suppressing the urge to laugh. How could he be afraid of her? It wasn’t like she built up a reputation here. She wasn’t the scary monster Coriander was out to be. Now in Merovech…she was a monster there. Slaughtered so many innocents she did. The streets ran red with blood that night. The last night she was there in that city.

She watched him as he squirmed, but his curiosity seemed to override his fear for a moment, and he inquired as to why she was out and about so late, and why she was up on the roof. She stared at him for a while, wondering how long she could stare before he grew unsettled enough to run, before she lowered her arms and jumped, quick as lightning, to the roof he stood on, landing right next to him. She smiled at him.

“Well, I’m out late for the same reason you are I suppose. I got a little hungry. Decided I needed a snack.” She said, placing a hand on her hip. “And I got my snack, too. Then I figured I’d take a stroll on the rooftops to see what would amuse me. Then I found you. You know what that means, right?” She asked, stepping up close to him, reaching out to gently stroke his cheek. “It means, you’re going to be my entertainment, love.”

[Rosier Moore]

(( I just realized that Rosier might suffer a little bit from PTSD o.o with the vampire thing ))

He nearly fell off the edge when she jumped, eager to get away. But the one thing he knew about vampires was that they usually liked the thrill of the chase. And besides; he was drunk as all hell. He might be able to get away if he were sober. But not like this. Never like this.

He did not look her in the eyes as she spoke to him. His shoulders tense. Mouth in a thin line. His eyes not daring to move anywhere but her mouth. Where those deathly shiny teeth were.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Heart beating harder and harder.

Rosier's mind wandered back to that fateful day when he was turned. Family slaughtered. Those disgusting beasts all around him, taunting him and torturing him before they sunk their dirty teeth into him.

The vampire in front of him touched his face, and he was frozen. Not even a flinch as his eyes wandered up to hers. His breath stopped. He was going to be her entertainment.

She knew.

He backed up, breathing heavily once more, but was stopped when half of his foot came off the edge. He was stuck. The man looked back at her, giving off a smile that he tried to make look genuine. But it looked much more nervous than happy.

"Don't know what you mean by that," his laugh was even nervous. Rosier's heart pounded in his chest, not knowing what to do. She knew; he couldn't fake it. She would play with him, perhaps even kill him. His mind was blank, both from the alcohol and his own fear. She even used his endearing term, love. It made him tremble even more.

[Veranda Kingsford]

(Poor thing! )

This vampire was just too adorable! He scared so easily! He was like a trapped rabbit, and Veranda almost felt guilty in playing with him like a cat does to a mouse before they make the kill. Almost. She could hear his heart pounding, and it reminded her of the hearts she had torn from the chest cavities not an hour ago. How sweet fear was, even with someone like her. A vampire. A broken vampire.

“No? Then perhaps I’ll show you.” She said, watching him back up, nearly fall off the ledge, and reaffirm his position. She could see him trembling in fear, hear the nervousness in his voice and laughter. His smile was timid, scared. Nothing like hers.

“But my kind of entertainment is getting someone scared. Really scared. Terrified. Until I hear their hearts pounding.” She said, before tilting her head. “I hear yours.” She teased, reaching out to touch his chest.

“Then, I hurt them a little. Maybe slice open their cheek, or break their arm. Something to really make them scream. Then I let them run around a little, spatter blood about or watch the tears fall from their cheeks. I let them know what fear really is. You’d think they’d know it better, since they inflict it themselves, but they don’t. They always look so surprised.” She grinned at the vampire, gripping hold of his vest, drawing him closer. “That’s when I strike. When I kill. If I want a lot of screaming I’ll gut them while they’re alive. If I want a lot of blood I’ll cut their throats. Either way, they die, and I feed off them.” She said, reaching up with her other hand to touch his throat, caress it gently.

“And then, I rip out their hearts.” She added, reaching into the pouch she had tied to her belt and she produced a human heart, one of the two she had just torn free earlier. It was still a bit warm, though the blood on it dried already. She held it up, as if asking him to study a rare gem. “Like this. See?”

[Rosier Moore]

He licked at his drying lips, seeming to lean further and further away from her. Hand clenching then unclenching again and again. He could not think rationally; how could he? Rosier's mind continued to look back on that fateful day that changed him forever. One moment he would be looking at the face of the woman before him; the next, at the crazed vampire with dark eyes, who had killed his family, and nearly ended his own life.

Had Rosier been faced with any other adversary, he would be laughing. Amused. Stepping on toes. Even with the famed murderous half-giant, Devan, he had skiped and jumped. Poking fun at the dangerous man.But he could not bring himself to joke and have fun. Not now.

The vampire shut his eyes tightly for a brief moment as she placed a hand on his chest, trying to clear his head. Trying to figure out how to get out the situation he had brought himself to.
He whimpered slightly; softly. But he heard it. So he knew that she had, with her sober mind.

Rosier leaned away as she touched his neck, no longer able to look her in the eye. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

No plan came to mind; nothing at all. Even as she pulled out the heart from a recent victim. He could still sense its warmth. Another shiver ran through his body. Rosier was a murderer himself of course. He loved killing. Blood. But he did not picture one of his victims heart in her hand that very moment. He pictured his own.

"Not going to lie," he chuckled nervously, smiling a fake smile once more as he turned to look at her. "I know you know I'm scared to shit right now. So seeing as we're, y'know, similar people in the love of inflicting damage upon others, why don't we just go our separate ways?"

He had no other ideas. Surely he believed they could be evenly matched in a fight. But Rosier was both frightened, and drunk. The only other good option was running away. But where could he go? How exactly could he outrun her, or prevent doing accidental damage to himself?

Rosier hated the gods. But at that moment, he was begging them for mercy.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Oh this was too much! Veranda was just giddy now. She never really terrified anyone other than humans when she began this little thing with Jules and Cori, and only recently did she begin to go out on her own. This was the first time she’d scare something not human by herself. A vampire no less! She felt a bit proud of herself, even if he seemed a bit easy to scare. It didn’t matter, she was having fun. She liked the way he tried to lean away from her, the way his eyes widened in fear, even the little whimper that escaped him as she touched him. This was far more intoxicating than alcohol, far more fun than whatever it was that got into her system the night she went home with Jordan. That was a night she’d rather forget. How incredibly dumb she had acted! Like some drunk girl. It was embarrassing. And the hangover she suffered when she woke a few hours after passing out in Jordan’s bed had been awful. Her head ached fiercely and her world was swimming. It was worse than when she spent a night drinking as a human. She had sneaked as quietly as she could out the window, but she was in so much pain she wasn’t sure how subtle she really was. Hell, Jordan could have hung out the window and called to her and she probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Veranda tilted her head as he admitted to his fear. Then he suggested they both go their separate ways, being vampires that enjoyed tormenting lesser creatures and all. Veranda blinked and placed the heart back into the pouch she wore on her belt, which was blood stained.

“I do love inflicting damage on others. So why on earth would I let you go?” Veranda asked, tilting her head, eyes shining with enjoyment. It was a rhetorical question of course, but she was honestly curious about his answer. How would this drunk, terrified vampire talk his way out of this little situation he seemed to be in? She imagined he may be stalling for time, trying to figure out how to escape her. He could probably take her in hand to hand combat, that being Veranda’s weaker fighting style. But she had her blades, and no one was better than her with blades. He could run, but being drunk as he was she doubted he’d get far. Veranda was pretty fast, but she had yet to outrun Coriander. She could outrun Julien, if she really wanted. She never tried outrunning anything else that actually had a chance against her. Humans didn’t count of course.

“How about this?” Veranda said, taking hold of the vampire’s arm and pulling him away from the edge of the roof. She was firm with him, but not rough, not yet. “How about you entertain me? Keep me amused. If you can do that, I’ll let you go with minimal damage.” She smiled charmingly at him before shoving him away from her a ways, placing a hand on her hip. She drew out a dagger, the sharp blade glittering in the moonlight. “So, what do you say? Want to play?”

[Rosier Moore]

(( sorry this took so long, I had no idea how Rosier would respond to this situation lol but I've figured it out! ))

Rosier gulped down the lump in his throat one more time, shaking with pure fear. Had this not been a vampire, even if it was a giant or a demon, he could handle it. Not unscathed, of course. But he could have gotten away. He could have fought. But drunk, and against the most fearsome creature in the world (through his eyes) it was impossible.

He didn't want to stay there; but she had grabbed his arm, and even when she let go he couldn't just jump over roofs. Or off the building. He'd hurt himself, and then she would definitely kill him.

So he just did his normal thing; tried to act relaxed. He laughed, shrugging before shoving his trembling hands into his pockets.

"It'd be rude to deny a fine young lady her desires, now wouldn't it? Now the question is, is this a fight, or am I just going to sit here and let you do your thing?"

The last time a vampire had lay its filthy hands on him was when he had been attacked by one as a child. Bitten and turned from a crazy, rampaged, bloodthirsty beast. The scars on his wrist still covered by a cloth band. Hiding his shame.

Even the mere thought of her touching him again nearly made him weep. But if he wanted to get through this alive, he had to hold in his fear. Just for now.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda watched the vampire shove his hands into his pockets, and she noted the tremble in them. She still couldn’t believe that he was so terrified of her, a fellow vampire. What did they do to him? Well, obviously turned him, but what was it that was so terrifying about them? They were scary creatures of the night to humans, or other things that didn’t prowl in the night. The funniest part was Veranda was a relatively new vampire! She wasn’t even that strong! Perhaps in his intoxication he found her more threatening than she really was. That was okay. It was nice to be feared, in her opinion.

“Well, it wouldn’t be fun if you simply sat there whimpering, now would it?” Veranda asked, backing off of him a few feet before placing her hands on her hips, smiling. “If I wanted that, I’d hunt a human. No, go ahead and put up a fight! I won’t kill you if you entertain me. Promise.” It was true, she didn’t really have any intention of killing him. Her intentions could change though. And Veranda never really kept promises to those who weren’t terribly important to her. Promises didn’t hold much value in her eyes. Too many times was she hurt or betrayed by ones who made promises.

She supposed she might be biting off more than she could chew though. She was a newborn vampire, and not terribly strong. She was fast, flexible, and deadly with a blade, but she had no intention of using a blade. It’d be unfair of her to use her sword or dagger, because this vampire here wouldn’t stand a chance. But Veranda was never very good with hand to hand combat. Brute strength could easily overcome her if they managed to catch her. She had been training with Julien, but she only just started, and it wasn’t like she had improved a lot. But this vampire was drunk, so he couldn’t be that much stronger. Or faster. Though she’d have to watch herself.

“So, what is your name?” she asked, conversationally, head tilting. “I may as well get to know it, since you’re going to be fulfilling my desires and all.” She smirked at him, once more twisting his words into her own. This was going to be so much fun!

[Rosier Moore]

Body relaxing as she moved away, Rosier looked around them once more. But there was no hope. There was no one around. And no way to successfully get away.

He rubbed at his face briefly, then the back of his neck. She was enjoying this too much for Rosier's tastes. Oh how he prayed that she was a different race. A bloody dragon would probably be more welcomed by Rosier at that point.

Drunk, half blind, scared. If only he knew she was a new vampire. Perhaps he would not be trembling so much.

Not a religious man, it was odd of Rosier to be praying. But there he stood. Praying for anything. For a knight to come rushing by. For her to drop dead. For her not to be a vampire. For him to have been killed instead of changed that awful night.

But the most simple thing he could pray for is to get out of this alive.

How in the Gods am I supposed to entertain this woman, he thought to himself, placing hands on his hips. Looking her up and down.
"Rosier Moore at your service love," he put on his usual charm again, but this time out of habit as he let out a small sigh. The more he was in this state, the calmer he got. But the longer the situation was, the longer he was about to snap.

"And just in case you accidentally kill me or so," he continued, black eyes staring right at her. Nearing the brink of tears as he let out a shaky sigh once more
"Might I know your name as well?"

He shifted his weight as best as he could, getting into a fighting position. one leg in front of the other, feet apart. Fists at chin level. Waiting to entertain.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda watched as he struggled with himself, shaking and shivering like a leaf, nearly crying from the fear. This was too delicious. But he managed to compose himself a bit when introducing his name, still keeping that charm. She was actually quite impressed that he managed to stay charming even when he was utterly terrified. She wondered how he did it. She knew that when she was frightened she lost all charm. Of course the last time she had been truly frightened was when she was human, not so long ago. Ever since her change she wasn’t scared. Just…more or less walking on the edge of madness probably.

“My name is Veranda Kingsford,” she said. She was glad that she didn’t feel such anxiety here about her name. Being the only daughter of a powerful nobleman, a man she feared above all else, she was always afraid of someone knowing the Kingsford name. But since they sailed across the sea she doubted anyone would know of the rich, noble, Kingsford family. It was a relief.

Then Rosier shifted into a fighting stance, fists up and ready to go. Veranda stared a moment, struggling to keep her composure. He just looked so…so...hilarious! She suddenly burst into laughter, holding her belly. Never had she met someone who looked like him! Hardly a threat! She was sure he was a threat, but he didn’t look like it, standing there practically sniveling in fear. It was just too much!

“Oh dear…” she managed between laughs, trying to tone it down to giggles. “Forgive me, you just looked so funny! Is that really how you approach a fight? Bumbling humans do that, Rose, not vampires.” She giggled again before walking to the edge of the roof, looking down, then sitting down, her legs dangling over the edge.

“Alright, that was plenty for me. Lucky you, you didn’t even have to fight to entertain me!” she said, laughing again. She’d remember that for many nights to come. “Why are you even afraid of vampires? You are one!”

[Rosier Moore]

He was as ready as he'd ever be. Ready to fight for his life. Ready to kill her if he could. Ready to die a quick death if he had to. At least he knew her name now; Veranda Kingsford. That name would now forever send chills down his spine.

That is, until she burst out laughing.

Holding her stomach, nearly toppling over, his fear was briefly changed to rage. How dare she?! Tease him, frighten him, nearly torture him, and then she laughs at him?! If any time was a time to kill her, it would be now. He almost took a step forward.
But he remembered that she was a vampire once more, and stopped himself. Once more out of fear. But his eyebrows were much sterner now.

She would not be laughing at his 'bumbling human stance' had she not been a vampire, and had he not been scared.

For a brief flicker of a second he calmed down, however. Usually being called Rose was a frustration. But one of his friends, a rare thing for him to have, often called him Rose in a joking or endearing way. Oddly enough it soothed him now. Even coming from a bloodthirsty monster.

His body shook more violently now as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Shaken up by the practically near-death experience.
Rosier nearly scoffed as the question was asked.

"When you're a little kid, the change into a vampire is a whole different experience. Especially when you weren't supposed to survive."
He folded his arms across his chest without thinking about it; his body trying to protect itself from both Veranda, and the memories.

It was rare for a child to be turned; usually they died from blood loss, or being eaten before it happens. Some would call Rosier 'lucky'.

He certainly wouldn't.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda looked over at Rosier, watching his frustration with her. She supposed that was something he’d have to deal with. She regularly frustrated everyone around her. Julien the most probably, but he was always worried about her, so he sort of brought that on himself. Cori didn’t count either cause he just didn’t emote.

“Turned as a child?” Veranda asked, looking surprised. She honestly didn’t know it was possible. She saw no point in it, but neither did the vampires who attacked Rosier, since it seems they left him for dead. That was their mistake though. They should have been sure.

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed Rose, you aren’t a little kid anymore. You’re a dangerous thing. At least if you put your mind to it. I don’t think you’d be as helpless now as you were then,” Veranda said, looking up at the night sky, watching the stars glitter. No, if he wanted, he could fight back. Make those vampires work for their entertainment. She turned to face him again.

“Have you ever considered hunting them down?” she asked, head tilted. She was awfully curious. Veranda could hold a grudge, and be vengeful, but pretty much everyone she knew she would kill was either already dead or they hardly mattered in her life anymore. Like her father. She’d rip him apart, assuming she didn’t turn into a puddle of fear like Rosier, if she ever saw him. But the odds of him coming here were slim at best, and she wouldn’t go out to find him. She spent her human life running from him. Running in general. So why would she go about hunting him down? Besides, he was across the sea now, and she’d never get on another fucking boat. That trip had been just awful.

[Rosier Moore]

Rosier was becoming quite offended; to brush him off, just like that. As if he could just 'get over' that traumatizing moment. Of course he was not helpless; he had killed hundreds, if not thousands of being all across the world! An exaggeration of course, but that is what it felt like. He was a powerful man; who just so happened to tremble at the touch of another vampire.

His hands tightened around his folded arms. In fear. In frustration. Tonight was truly not his night. But he was hopeful at the thought that the alcohol seemed to be wearing off.

Slowly he paced towards her, only a few feet from her now as he listened. Praying that she might leave him alone soon. He could try to take off now, with the alcohol wearing off. But he did not want to test it.

Not yet.

"They're probably dead at this point..." he muttered, before rubbing a hand through his shimmering red hair to calm himself down.
"They were practically the equivalent of a couple of human druggies. Besides, they have some sort of deformity. And I wouldn't like to find out what it is."

He pointed to his eyes; no white, no colour. Only black. The vampires that had attacked his home were like this too. He could only assume it was a deformity. Did it make them stronger? Weaker? He did not want to find out by trying to find them.

Another excuse he knew was that he did not get that good of a glimpse of their faces. After all, a half-blind child could hardly distinguish his own parent's faces. Let alone a couple of strangers. Let alone while being attacked.

Besides; he knew he would just freeze on the spot. Even if he wanted them dead.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda tilted her head, looking at Rosier’s eyes. She had noticed that they were different than any other vampire’s eyes, but she hadn’t considered it a deformity. Coriander had some freaky eyes too. She half wondered if there were different lineages of vampires with different abilities. Probably nothing drastic, since humans were what they all were once, and humans didn’t deviate from the norm too far. Although what was considered normal could be a blanket term.

“Maybe they just had black eyes? Like I have black hair. A trait that is passed on,” Veranda suggested, before shrugging. “You lack quite a lot of curiosity about them. I suppose the fact that they hurt you would keep you from wondering too much. I hardly think about my father after all. You’re the first vampire I’ve met here that isn’t part of my company.” It dawned on her that Rosier really was the only other vampire she met since she turned. The only other ones she interacted with were Jules and Cori.

She paused when she heard padding coming up the alley. She looked down, seeing a little figure trotting towards the vampires. It was a little wolf pup, barely big enough to walk judging from the zigzagging way it stumbled towards them. It was pure black, save for blood red highlights and bright red, glowing eyes. It stepped up to the building that Rosier and Veranda currently were perched on, and it gave a tiny little bark.

“Maro! I told you to stay home,” Veranda said, amused to see her new pet hellhound had followed her here all the way from the old abandoned house she called home. Maro had leaves and twigs sticking in his fur. His poofy little tail gave one wag, then the glowing eyes turned to Rosier, and the pup began growling, though it hardly sounded threatening. Veranda giggled slipping off the building to land gracefully by her pet. She scooped up the pup and leaped back up onto the roof quickly.

“Naughty little creature, following me here,” Veranda scolded, though Maro hardly seemed to notice. He leaned forward, licking Veranda’s cheek. She giggled again, scratching the pup behind the ears. Her cheek was left reddened, as if slightly burnt, though she didn’t seem to notice or mind.

[Rosier Moore]

He shivered ever so slightly; her company. More vampires. How many were there in this god forsaken town? He wished not to know. Perhaps it would be best for him to leave soon.

...but that would be bad for business. He had already met Devan, whom seemed like a keen person of murder. to stay would mean to have a person for information. And Rosier did like that. Not to mention his first 'friend', so to say, since he was a child; Hatura. He couldn't very well leave the poor girl here alone. Not with vampires roaming the streets.

But then he noticed the noise below them; surely the alcohol was almost out of his system now if he could hear that well. Had he really not noticed it wearing off? His fear truly did control him.

Looking over the edge he saw a dog; no, a pup, waddling along. Squinting he could not see what type of dog it was. As it growled at Rosier, he smiled, eyebrow raised. A side of Rosier that was normal; his lack of fear towards anything but vampires.

Had this been a monster of a dog that could rip him to pieces, Rosier would have been laughing through the entire process. So this was rather normal, his smile at a growing pup. And it seemed normal, seeing as how it were so small.

As Veranda jumped down, Rosier felt relief. Perhaps she was leaving him alone. Perhaps he could go home. He lifted his foot only a centimeter off the ground to step back, before she jumped back up onto the roof, pup in hand. He cursed silently to himself.

But the pup turned his interest as it left a sort of burn mark on her cheek; he looked closer, squinting with his half blind eyes. Then an eyebrow was raised once more.

"Where on earth did you find a hellhound?" he asked; but it was a sort of mutter. As if he were asking himself. He tilted his head, wanting to step closer out of curiosity. But didn't, out of fear for Veranda.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda looked at Rosier as he asked his question. She looked back to Maro, who turned his gaze back to Rosier and gave another little growl, which came out utterly adorable to her. Cute little thing, trying to be scary and threatening.

“I found him in the mountains. Stumbled upon him really. He was lying in his mother’s blood, his fellow pup all around him dead, as was his mother. I’m guessing birthing a hellhound isn’t easy. The mother wolf and other pups were all normal though,” she said, turning Maro and holding him out towards Rosier, allowing him a better look.

“I took him home and kept him. He likes human blood. He just started eating flesh and meat. I named him Maro. Isn’t he adorable?” she asked, watched as Maro growled again at Rosier and a puff of sulfuric smelling smoke came from his mouth. A moment or two later Maro burped, then continued his growling. Veranda cradled the pup again.

“I think he’s trying to breathe fire or something. He coughs up smoke a lot and it smells awful. Sometimes the smoke is green, so I think he can breathe poison too,” she said conversationally. Maro’s puffy little tail wagged, looking at Veranda, before licking her cheek again, over and over, until a blister appeared. She winced and pulled back, giggling. “Enough, you’re burning me.”

[Rosier Moore]

Rosier leaned forward a tad as she spoke, head tilted more as he stared into the eyes of the hellhound. It amused him that the poor little thing was trying to attack and threaten Rosier. It had little sense of fear. Just like Rosier.

As Maro growled once more, Rosier eased up a bit, chuckling himself.
"I suppose as adorable as a hellhound can be-" he quickly backed his face away as smoke spewed out of the dog's mouth.

"Sounds like quite the amount of work," he replied. Fie and poison? This pup could turn into quite the killer one day.

He watched as the pup licked his master, thinking about what was said earlier. Black eyes just being a trait. He hoped so, truly. At the very least he enjoyed that his eyes might make him seem a bit more scary.

But his mind jumped back to another thought; she hardly thinks of her father. He had hurt her? An interesting thought to Rosier. If that was still a thought at the back of her mind, she couldn't have been that old of a vampire. Unless it was that significant of an abuse.

In that case, she was more human than he thought.

"So how many more are in your company?"
He didn't want to just run off; no, he would have to wait until she left. Otherwise she might follow him home, or try to give chase. So he might as well find out as much as he could about his situation.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Maro coughed out another puff of smoke, and Veranda leaned back from it a bit, wrinkling her nose. That smoke smelled awful! She wondered what kind of fire, if any, Maro would be spewing soon. She’d have to keep a close eye on him, what with him trying to figure out his powers. She’d hate to wake up one day and see the entire house of fire. She was sure Cori and Jules wouldn’t be very amused with her pup’s antics. They seemed unsure enough with her pet as it was, but their care for it slacked off a lot when Maro didn’t cause any harm. Yet.

It was amusing how fearless the hellhound was. It didn’t have any power, couldn’t even hunt yet for itself, and yet whenever Cori glided by Veranda, the little pup growled at the tall, terrifying vampire. Amusing, yes, but Veranda feared that one day the pup might get too bold and offend Cori by snapping at him, and then the ancient vampire would tear him to shreds.

“Work indeed. You should see this one’s appetite. He probably followed because he wants food,” Veranda said, digging into her pocket to produce the heart she had teased Rosier with earlier. Maro’s head snapped to attention, sniffing at the muscle, ears perked. Veranda smiled, setting the pup down before dropping the heart onto the roof. Maro snatched it up in his mouth, waddled a few feet away, and set to work on eating it, which considering his size and youth, would take a bit of work.

“A few are in my company,” Veranda replied to Rosier’s question, being a bit vague about it. She looked back to the other vampire, placing a hand on her hip, her standard pose, and she raised an eyebrow. “You seem rather sobered up now, Rose. Why aren’t you running off with your tail tucked between your legs?” She was surprised he hadn’t taken a chance to bolt. He had several opportunities to run away, though he didn’t take them. Perhaps he was still too intoxicated to feel comfortable in attempting an escape.