Frailty of Will (Open)

[Vladimir Vin Niktu]

Streets of Coruscant

A jungle of concrete towered around him, casting shadows and shapes that always seemed different every night. Each one danced in his eyes as he calmly strolled down the nearly empty street of this sector of Coruscant. It was somewhat near and dear to him--he had been made not far from here. It wasn't necessarily a truly fond relationship, he to this area, but it was a relationship, and no matter which being one interviewed, one could always note that intelligence had a sense of home or bonding with a certain place or location.

This was his home.

And it was no secret that he had returned here shortly. Several familiars had come out of the woodwork to greet him. The familiar whine of the illegal vibrodrills and laser tools that the small arms dealer down the street used to make modifications to his merchandise. The begging and pleading of several death stick addicts who had made themselves a type of makeshift trash-town. Even the clubs seem to breath again as their life was restored in his coming.

He smiled--a wide, fanged smile--at several passer-bys. They didn't notice. Some would chalk it up to a lack of perception. Others would say that it was simply because his charm masked his sometimes grizzly appearance. It was an odd Sith talent that vampire had acquired--this ability to decieve by means of inciting pleasure in the hearts of others. Some vampires were horrible looking creatures--almost Sith Ghouls or demons of some sort. Still, they were able to lure their victims with impeccable charm. It truly was magic, he thought.

The doors to a small club nearly swung open without his touch as he entered it. Many glanced towards him once--then double takes--as they noticed his presence. His eyes sharply intense and his mouth contorted into a welcoming smile, he entered the club. Instantly, he found his gaze falling upon several different young woman--all beautiful--as he made his way to the dance floor.

He wanted to dance.

His long, dark coat swayed as he moved to the beat of the music, his movement graceful and seductive. Soon, he was surrounded by other women--most possibly meal options--as he continued dancing. He wondered who would invite him in this night or perhaps who--if anyone--would stir his interest.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: I sat back, watching the vampyre enter the room. I could tell he was one of the Damned so easily, the man spewed out charm like pus and my bloodless lips turned up in a sneer.
My head turned from my throne like chair on the balcony to the figure clad in a darker blood red standing next to me. The figure's silver glasses shimmered as a light reflected against them.::

Sol... would you mind asking that man politely about the Shrine for me?

:: My apprentice, Sol Invictus, had a knack for making polite sound very much like a gun shot when he pulled his silver revolver against another's skin.::

[Sol Invictus]

A gunshot rings out, drowning even the bass with it's ear-splitting howl. The women surrounding Vladmir shriek and cower, covering their ears. The men bow up, seeking the offender. The DJ slumps dead, the music fading out slowly, punctuated by another shot. The women before the vampyre fledgling fall dead, and he finds he's lost the use of his right arm.

"What manner of vampyre are you, relaxing your guard so much over a petty meal?"

[Salem Ave]

The sound of the pulsing music ceased, and Salem’s solid black eyes snapped open.

A gun shot rang in the air, though the Sith Knight remained still. For the past hour he had sat in the same seat at the same table, simply listening. From his niche in the bar he had an impeccable view of the dance floor and got the thick sounds of the bass on the music thudding into his mind. As had been so as of late, he was growing interested in things such as this – the effects that music had on people, and so was studying the various effects on a number of humans, hence his deep concentration.

The woman he had been watching had, however, just dropped dead.

His eyes travelled slowly towards a man in red.

“What mannerrr of vampirrre is ssso keen to cau-ssse a scene and attrrract attention himself?” he said, his voice a rolling his mixed with a purr; quiet yet easily heard by the attentive ears of vampires.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: I stood from my privately owned balcony above the entire area. I owned several night clubs and I spent most of my eternal life torturing the minds of those who decided to come. They exited with little to no memories of the pain and ecstasy they felt while dancing sometimes here but always had a calling to come back the next night, when the sun set, when I awoke.
But this time, my playground had attracted several interesting individuals. The fledgling, shot by Sol in the leg, for instance had not been seen at the Shrine for some time. And the other, who directed his sluggish dialect towards my understudy was a Sith by his signature and well attuned to the darkside.
I stood, placing my hands on the balcony railing as I looked down at Sol and the others. He had handled it very well, chaos had come well under the reign of Sol at the moment. My voice rang like echoes in a valley as the words escaped my bloodless lips.::

A manner of vampyre that has others bowing before him to accept his gift of Pain.

:: My armor unraveled black tendrils from my back and they reached out in every direction, making it seem as if the shadows on the ceiling were coming from me. I would like to see what havoc could be wrought in so little time by Sol. I had been training him and he head come to a very significant style of his own by now.::

[Vladimir Vin Niktu]

Vladimir's face had contorted into a grotesque scowl as his fangs were shown, a hiss spitting from his throat as he was shot. His company--a few young woman, one now silent--fell to the floor and many scattered as he suffered the pain of the attack. More importantly--and more to his chagrin than the physical pain from the bulletwound--was his contempt for the blatant disreguard of secrecy for the vampire cult. Another had mentioned the sacred term--one that was not to be revealed before regular beings--without reguard to his present company.

In a way, Vlad felt his masquerade violated. But just as he spoke another, unseen until this point, came forth.

“What mannerrr of vampirrre is ssso keen to cau-ssse a scene and attrrract attention himself?”

Vlad agreed, though he did not like the forthcoming of this fellow. Whether the other two were vampiric or no, To have an outsider speak forth with knowledge of the occult could strike Vlad as disturbing. Still, he sensed something. . .something dark about the man. The darkness of the Force that Vlad had come to know flowed through the other. Perhaps he was some sort of vampire as well.

A manner of vampyre that has others bowing before him to accept his gift of Pain.

The other responded, allowing illusion and prowess in an attempt to intimidate either Vlad, the newcomer, or a combination of the two. Vlad turned his attention to the still cowering crowd of mortal beings and wished for them to disperse so that they could not fall witness to more bastardization of his race.

"Get out of here while you still can!" Vlad said, his volume raised as he tried to intimidate the crowd, sending numerous scurrying and running in directions. Still disgusted by this larger one's conduct, he watched to observe the actions of the newcomer, letting dark recovery begin it's mending of his leg.

[Valirion Thorn]

No!

:: The doors slammed shut, locking as bouncers stepped forward, knocking the fleeing crowd backwards. The symbiotic armor snapped back within my body as I vaulted over the balcony and easily landed on the ground, the symbiote adding extra structure to my knees and by using the force to create a buffer to the impact.
My violet eyes bored into the fledgling that had told the mortals to run. His face registered as my armor brought up the more specific details from the Shrine. This one belong to Nathan, I couldtaste that much from him from here. Had he known I was Council member of the Shrine, this fledgling would be on his knees. And he would not be consorting with a dirty vampyre, I could sense it now from this close, but not of the Shrine... dirty.::

You are Vladimir Vin Niktu, fledgling of the Shrine are you not?

:: My speech was cut off at each word with biting emphasis.::

I am Valirion Thorn, Lord of Pain, Council member of the Shrine. Where is your respect now fledgling? You tell my meals to run? And you waste my apprentice's bullets to boot?

:: A devilish smile crept across my face as my violet gaze now turned to the other one. Vladimir was of no concern, he now knew who decided to do what here. But I was not alone either, there were more than just Sol and I to witness this insolence. My gaze passed through the mortals as I followed the quiet voice to the dirty vampyre.::

And what right do you have to speak of mannerisms?

:: My armor slipped about in my skin as I enjoyed the anticipation of such events, I could taste pain in the future and that was all I wanted.::

[Salem Ave]

“I have everrry right. I am of the bloodline of Sssaurron himself, childe of his own – Razielle… childe of the Coven, itself, forbearer to your Shrine,” Salem replied with a defiant tone, each word laced with confidence and smeared with venom.

He stood, a lanky 6 foot 7 inches tall, and looked up to the balcony where the so-called Council member of the Shrine stood. With black eyes he watched as the humans and aliens alike attempted to flee. Why, he wondered, did this one patrol other vampires as he now did? Under Saurron’s guidance, with aide from the Overlord Bowdin, the Coven had been an accepting place, tolerant of its fellow kindred. It nurtured its members, over-looking their fledgling weaknesses so that they could develop into fiercesome warriors.

“If I am not missstake, this man did not wassste yourrr apprentices bullets – your protégé fired upon Vladimir, at your command.”

Salem feared neither the master of the apprentice here. A twin-saber was at his waist, should he need it. He was a warrior of the Sith, trained by Jeseth Cloak in the Darkside of the Force and educated by both Lordess Alana and Mistress Razielle in the crafts of the vampires.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: I laughed hysterically as the vampyre gave his reasons why he had every right. My armor was going to frantic with the sense of pain on the edge and tendrils wavered about, flashing through the air as I strode forward to the sluggishly speaking vampyre. He was looking to where I had stood, but I had jumped down, I thought I remembered that much. My armor snickered at that with slight hissing.
The other fledgling, did not matter, he would later be exploited. Why one would stay away from the Shrine for some time, for which some of us hadn't seen him and then to go around, gallavanting with mortals without ever giving a welcoming word to his fellow brethren, or a few words of respect to one of his Council members. And what did a vampyre care if they killed in public, if they brought havoc to a world or not, did it matter?
I strode forth to the vampyre, seeing that he was sitting at a table, all black eyes staring at me. I took a seat across from him with a cruel smile.::

But yet you are not of the Shrine? And you oppose me? You would be an even greater waste for Sol to unload his bullets through your face. But don't worry, that shouldn't be the least of your worries, which you seem to act like you have none. But that is fine, that is fine.

:: The urge to sow Pain and reap its ecstatic pleasure from this being. My hand went up to run through my hair and as it came to the back of my neck, my sword's handle slipped from the base of my neck and into my hand. I grasped it firmly between my white fingers and my armor sighed as I stayed my hand. I wanted to talk a bit more before the shadows above me began to stir themselves.
I could see the stoic emotion upon the vampyre's face and my smile only grew. I was a Lord of Sith power and well able in the powers of compulsion. Rank always had a way of subversively nudging at the weaker's mind. This I had learned from Soth, one of my many teachers and I stretched the muscle slightly with little effort. No one was just made a council member, there were reasons and with them came a deeper respect for one's life when dealing with them.::

[Salem Ave]

The laughter that erupted from Valiron had no effect upon Ave. He simply surveyed the convulsing form of the vampire with a barely noticeable lofted brow, unimpressed by the lack of emotional control. What this vampire had just said made little sense; it seemed as though simply saying what Salem had previously said, pertaining to Saurron, the man’s opinion had been swayed, though he was not willing to admit it as such.

“A pox upon yourrr inane babble. Perhaps if you spoke with sss-ome coherencey I would have cause to feel even the slightest fear.”

Salem watched the small movements in the Shriners body. Inside, he laughed. For all his pomp and supposed strength, he still wore some form of armour. Salem himself had dressed himself in nothing more than a flimsy cloak, with black body plating of some rubber based material.

[Vladimir Vin Niktu]

Vlad knew exactly who Saurron was and with that understood that Salem carried more to his credit than Valirion would admitt. Perhaps Valirion was just acting in arrogance, but it mattered little to Vlad, as he was disgusted with the council vampire's actions. He would offer the respect that was do of him to the vampire lord, but nothing more.

"I am who you say I am, and. . ." he gritted his teeth and swallowed his pride. ". . .I submit to you an apology for my insubordinance. How will we still allow these beings to witness such talk? To hear us discuss ourselves--a race that walks among them clandestine and silent?" His question was phrased in a way as to not point blame towards Lord Valirion, but simply to raise the issue. He had been taught the the name of the vampire should and would never be exposed to the mortals--to keep it secret and safe from exploitation.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: My head lazily rolled to Vladimir as he brought the topic of keeping our race hidded. My smile only grew as my hand tightened about the sword handle protruding from my spine as this topic came to light in my mind. I had never been taught such stupidity, to hide the power of the vampyre. I had been taught many other things but not that. In fact the embodiement of the Shrine, the Goddess Ashiva, was anything but secretive, she was power, and she knew it. I had power and I knew it, no point in hiding that I could do whatever I wanted.
But I turned back to the Coven vampyre first.::

When Saurron acknolwedges you as his child, I'll nod to your claims, but I can't even see a reflection of the Shrine in you. You might be Coven but the Shrine is simply a different matter than your reclusive Coven is. I don't need you to feel fear, dear fledgling, but I will make you feel pain.

:: My eyes twisted slightly as my symbiotic armor laughed beneath my skin, making it seem that hands were trying to push out of my cheeks before subsiding again.
I moved in my chair to face Vladimir, my elbow resting on my knee while my other hand still grappled the sword hilt. A more friendly smile crossed my face. With the words escaping the fledgling's lips, I was pleased and all things instantly forgotten, sort of. Some things would later be defined at the Shrine. But I wanted to make sure this fledgling had a more informed view on the lives of vampyres from the Shrine's point of view.::

Not all agree in the secretive manner, that is one way to live Vladimir. But not even a Sith Knight would hide his status unless he had an agenda to do so. The same with us, unless we have an agenda that requires it. But we stand out, we are "damned" in their eyes, the forsaken, but we know we are the Chosen, blessed by the dark gift of Ashiva. Why should we hide that? Why do you hide power for no reason?
But to answer your question, all this talking has made me hungry, and I'm sure any of us would turn down ready meals. All except for you of course...

::nodding to Salemn.::

[Alana Stormcloud]

Alana stood deep within the shadows of the room, watching, and weighing what passed between each Vampyre. She who had been turned by Saurron, and sipped the powerful blood of the mother Ashiva. She knew there were some who thought it better to hide what they were. To mask the power they could wield. She did not hide, nor did she make no disguise as to who she was.

There was not one who did not know of the Coven or the Shrine, and what was housed therein. It mattered little to the Sith Lordess if she was recognized as one of the damned. She moved forward into the dim light of the bar. Her hue shifting eyes glimmering, her smile not hiding the fangs the nipped at her lower lip.

"It does my heart good to see so many of us gathered in one place. To make mortals cower in fear. What are we, if not Sith, and dealers in death?" Her sirens voice asked softly, but it carried easily over the den of noise. She brushed her hair back from bare shoulders, and smoothed her sheath of a dress along her form. Eyeing each Vampyre in turn. She glided down the stairs to the small group, her head cocked slightly to the side.

"What a pleasure indeed..."

[Sol Invictus]

Sol watches with a bemused smile, taking a seat for hiimself.

"Pleasure, Alana? Half the vampyres in here are the incarnations of foolery."

[Salem Ave]

Salem mused over the thus far empty promises of the Shrine vampire as Alana revealed herself. This one had once promised to guide to him and to teach him so much about vampire kind – thus far, these too had been empty promises. He watched her, and paid no mind to the crimson-clad lackey of the Shrine Councilman. Unlike most of the vampires here, he did not feed simply for feeding sake – he did it only when it was needed, simply because he thought it a waste of his time. Often the blood drained from the people of Coruscant was polluted, tainted with a lifetime’s squalor and sloth. To obtain the purest vitae, you needed to visit planets in far out galaxies, where the inhabitants lead wholesome, uncorrupted lives…

“Good evening Alana,” he remarked quietly, with a slight nod of his head in greeting.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: My lip turned up in a sneer. I waited for no acceptance of Vladimir as I had just begun to smile with Alana's decision to come from the balcony and join the fun with Sol and I, but the Coven member's lack of respect would not fall under my tolerance. My hand pulled up and the sword uncoiled itself from my spine, still supple and flexible like a tongue to the mouth like hilt. The large eye at the base of the blade glared at the vampyre as the blade reached out like a whip and snapped about the vampyre's neck.::

You have two options infidel. Add a Mistress to that name or lose your head.

:: I still casually sat in the chair but my arm was bent upwards, holding the sword with it's long blad across the table. Alana had given me the dark gift, deservable of respect in itself but she was Council also. And if the Shrine and Coven were close enough to call each other brother and sister some time, then this one could show respect to a greater vampyre then he would ever be.
And now with my sword about his neck, barely cutting in and tasting slight snips of blood. The mental link between my sword and I could not be seperated and it relayed the sweet taste of his blood to my own tongue, and showing me more than the vampyre could ever tell me.
He was only a fledgling by calibur of blood, and he acted with no fear, his rank within our race was pathetic, ths one was all air by my standards. And that was fine, he was easier to pop. I would like to see Alana's response to the vampyre's familiarity. While I turned my head to face Sol.::

Another example is he, my apprentice, of foolery at it's best.

[Vladimir Vin Niktu]

Vlad acknowledged Master Alana with a long and sweeping bow. Evern with vampire mistresses, he was very charasmatic and charming. He smiled half-heartedly as his ear remained occupied by the bickering of the others. He thought it foolish in a few ways, but found his place not to interject such an opinion. He was merely a fledgling, and he knew that his judgement meant little to a Lord like Valirion. He knew his place, and his mouth remained closed.

Instead, he kept a watchful eye, glancing around the room to the other beings that lay in fear--some wounded, some stunned, some even feinted. He was somewhat disheartened--he was hoping for a little foreplay prior to his meal tonight. He would have none.

He remained observent of the conversation.

[Alana Stormcloud]

Alana nodded to Salem in greeting, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. As she walked by Sol she trailed her fingers across his cheek.
She settled into a chair, her long legs crossing in a slow deliberate movement.

"Yes Sol, it is always a pleasure when our kind gathers to feed on the unwitting." She grinned at him, her hue shifting eyes flashing.

"Salem, It is a pleasure to see another of the Coven. I have missed my old home. You must visit us at the Shrine, Master Saurron has been known to pay unexpected visits from time to time." She responded to his greeting in turn.

As the whip snapped out of Thorns hand Alana chuckled softly. "Always my protector Valirion. Salem means no harm in his familiarity, he has just known me for some time. The coven is part of our family now, and as such we must care for all of our brethren. Come my prince of pain, and sit beside me. This night I can enjoy the pleasure of the terror you always invoke in the mortals." Alana turned her eyes back to her fellow Coven member. Her eye teeth extending, and biting into the tender flesh of her lip.


"Tell me Salem, have you asked Saurron if he will release you from Razelle so I can be your master, and train you in the dark arts of our kind?"

Alana turned to Vladimir acknowledging his bow. "Vlad it has been to long my dear, we miss your presence at the Shrine." Turning back to Salem she awaited his answer. As always the dark tendrils of the force wove around her, causing the shadow guardians that always hovered near her, into there perpetual muttering. There fingers tugging at her cloths like the hands of errant children looking for acceptance.

[Salem Ave]

The whip-come-sword about his person caused no real show of panic from Salem. His ever present apathy towards life and death remained painted across his expression as he looked towards Alana.

“I have sss-ent word to the Coven Citadel,” he began, speaking in fits and starts under the pressure of the blade that was still coiled around him.

“But as of yet, rrr-eceived no reply.”

[Valirion Thorn]

:: I tightened the sword about his neck even more until he couldn't speak. The blade widened, forcing his jaws open uness he wanted it cut off. I stood, the sword shortening as I moved right in front of Salem. My lip peeled back as my other hand shot foward, grabbing Salem's tongue in his open mouth.::

And yet "Mistress" has not grace your tongue yet while speaking to one that you require training from?

:: My clawed fingers pressed down quickly, slicing Salem's tongue at the tip in half. I didn' care really if he said it or not. Just the feeling of his blood was enough to satisfy me. I laughed as I turned around to Alana, my sword flicking away from his neck, cutting as it left, leaving two cuts, one at his jaw ad the other at the base of his neck.

I casually walked over to Alana, standing by her side as I quickly looked over the pahetic mortals cowering inside the room.::

Yes Mistress, we care for all our brethren, but some deserve to share in some of my pleasures, no?