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Post by morgandubhbraon on Jul 28, 2009 13:45:38 GMT -5
Morgan realised the dark seductive scent in the air. It was probably what had wakened him. His throat felt like sandpaper, and he was glad for her supporting arms. He took a pull from the goblet, and it was as a switch being flipped..he gulped the blood now greedily. He felt strength flowing through his veins and his muscles. He saw her then, really saw her. His thoughts were captivated as were his eyes. She was beautiful, she had on his shirt and it was loose about her yet flowed over her curves. Her skin was like glass, it seemed to shimmer in the pale light.
"Was I terribly bothersome?" he asked, his Irish brogue thick on his tongue. He tried to look abashed; he hated that she had stayed with him, had endured it to the end. His face betrayed his joy that she was there now. His mouth curved into a rogue's grin. He slipped out from the covers and stood in one fluid motion.
He could feel the coolness of the room, and the air was a bit stale. He knew no windows had been opened in the house, nor had there ben many visitors. There was a lingering scent two forms had passed through the Castle. It was amazing to him how everything was so different, and yet the same.
He still felt that pull in his heart when he gazed at her, and he drew her to him, unabashed and actually forgetting his state of undress. He remembered to be gentle, he could feel strength in his body much more than before. "I would not change my decision for anything, my Duskarie, my own Dark Angel." He kissed her tenderly.
He looked into her eyes, his were more steely blue now, the color they would always be from now on. He felt the burning in his throat and knew the little he'd drank was not near enough. He looked apologetic, and grinned as he pulled away to dress in his usual tight jeans and a blood red t-shirt. He slipped on a pair of laceless cons...he was dressing for formality of necessitation over any other reason.
"Lead me, M'Lady, truely I thirst..." His voice was low and melodic and desperate need. He hated this feeling of needing anything so badly; other than her. His fangs were already out fully and he found no awkwardness in them anymore. He hadn't even noticed them when he bent to kiss her. His mind was on blood for the moment, he would think coherently after he had fed.
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Post by within7temptation on Jul 28, 2009 17:08:12 GMT -5
She watched him as he got dresed, a soft smile playing upon her paled lips. She had not fed scince she had turned him, and it was becoming hard for her to wait. She took is hand in her own and pulled him from the room, leaving the goblet behind them, completely forgotten. Her slited skirt and his shirt flowed around her with her coppery hair as she lead him down the stairs and out of the mansion. The gate opened silently and was closed quickly. The woman's eyes were that lovely shade of white with such large pupils. And had she paled? Yes, most definantly. Her skin usualy had a soft pink tone to it. Now it looked like the skin of a sick woman. Or, to be more correct, a dead woman. Eventually she slowed to a steady walked, still holding Morgan's hand in her own deathly cold grasp, as they reached the edge of town. "You must always be careful as to who you feed off of and how much blood you take from them. No one would care if a cearal killer or a rapist turned up dead, drained of blood until they were completely fucking dry." She did not mean to be snappy or tempermentle, but she was tired and she was hungry. Her fangs were at their full length and her hands were caught in a claw-like form as she moved through the shadows like a vengful queen. "If you were to kill a teenage girl or any other innocent civilian, I can garantee you that my coven would send someone to put you down. You would be no better to them than a rabid dog. Feed off of them, but do not kill them." She pointed to a young escort on the corner. "Her. I will stop you when it is time if you can not stop yourself." Duskarie would not feed until he did. Only then could she be sure that he would not loose his control at the smell of fresh blood.
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Post by morgandubhbraon on Jul 28, 2009 18:28:55 GMT -5
Morgan felt the intensity of her hunger as surely as he felt his own. He did not question when she explained the rules to him, but he was not entirely sure how to react. He was certain he would stop...well no he should not be certain, that would be expecting too much. But he knew he would try. What he did not know really was how to move. Did you just walk up to them and say, "Hey, I'm hungry" and bite them. He felt stupid and irrational.
He looked atthe escourt, she was pretty in a plain way, her hair was not particularly appealing, nor was her face. But she was pretty. He grinned and his confidence returned. He left Duskaries side with a confident gait, he knew his outfit was plain, but he wore it well. His hair was a muss of bedhead tangle, but that only added to the complete picture. He smirked, poor girl she'd never know what hit her.
He approached her from behind just as she turned in her little row she was pacing back and forth over. When she turned again he was just a couple yards away, a warm smile spread across his features. Hello, nice evening for a stroll, isn't it? he said as he approached. He could gauge her response, and his prediction was accurate to the hand that fluttered to the collar of her shirt.
Her eyes widened, her lips parted, he saw her breath catch in her chest. He widened his smile and let it crinkle the corners of his eyes as he looked at her. I don't think I've seen you around here before. She found her voice, and replied, "No, I'm new in the Village, Visiting really." His grin shifted to a smirk, one he knew was lopsided and charming. He approached her and touched her shoulder gently, moving a stray hair back in place. He was being exceptionally flirtatious. His hand lingered at her neck.
He was trying to compose himself and yet he really wanted to sate his thirst. His fingers brushed her neck gently and he drew closer to her their bodies seperated by only centimeters. She was involuntarily angled toward him and he found the controlling power intoxicating. He murmured to her for a moment, nonsense words; how long are you staying, why are you out tonight alone...all the while she was like putty in his fingers. He leaned towards her eventually, carefully and slowly. His fangs were aching to sink into her flesh. She tilted her chin slightly as if pondering a question at his slight pressure. He caressed her neck with his lips, completing the spell he was weaving. Her breathing was erratic and shallow. His finger pushed the high collar of her shirt further out of the way.
It was so natural then, just to open his lips wider and sink his fangs into her throat, unerringly at the vein. He moaned as the first wave of crimson necter flowed into his mouth. He could still think clearly enough to remember to sip the wine, but not guzzle. He kissed her throat; for a moment caught in the images she had been imagining as he had drank. Then he backed away from her releasing his touch from her shoulder.
He left her there intoxicated by his charisma, and he by the taste of her blood. He returned to Duskarie's side and moved closer to her body. Now you must feed M'Lady. He felt stronger than even when he had drank the first goblet of blood, and his first triumph made him euphoric with success. His agonizing had been for naught, it was as if he had been born for this. But had he not, now, been reborn as this Vampyre? His eyes burned with excitement as he gazed at her.
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Post by within7temptation on Jul 31, 2009 0:02:36 GMT -5
She had watched her lover seduce the sorry scrap of a mortal woman with growing envy, though her hunger was always stronger. He was so... Well, he was perfect. The woman was completely entranced by the newly born vampire. Excellent. She turned away quickly so as not to loose her own well mantained control. Her copper curls billowed around her as she began walking down the street. His voice in her ear soothed her nerves and she turned her white gaze upon her lover. "Yes... I suppose that I must." Her fangs had begun to irritate her intolerably and it only added to her rage. The red haired vampiress reached out and took the other immortal's hand in her own dainty grasp as she led him through the streets. Her own prey was easier to work with, being a drunk male passed out on the street. She simple knelt ad fed and stood again. "Morgan..." she began as they moved further down the street. "This time it is me who will have to leave. I have to return to Romania soon. I wish for you to join me and my covenant there. We could be... Happy." She pulled a peice of paper out of the left brest pocket and handed it to him. Written in blue ink were directions to the ancient Castle Vontair. "Two weeks, love. A man will be waiting for you at the only hotel in town. His name will be Alexander Varquain." Duskarie leaned in close and graced her hand tenderly against his cheek. "I must go." She pressed her lips gently to his as tears began to roll silently down her pale cheeks. She did not wish to leave him. Not now. But he could handle himself, she well knew. But the coven needed her there in the ountain of Romania, now. She was slow to pull away. But when she finally did, she seemed to fly down the street to the plane that awated her. Her voice was caught by the wind. "I love you, Morgan."
The end.
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