T H E . F O R L O R N | C O N C E P T I O N



G e n e r a l . . . ; ;
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The Vampire world - an enigmatic society strewn out over the existence of the Human reign. Creatures not of life, nor of death - but a middle ground soaked in the casualties of mortality and its imperceptible existence.

The Modern Vampire - ruled by a syndicate known simply as The Forlorn. A group of Vampire who live by a set of 'laws' - or 'The Prescript', as well as enforcing them strictly. Governed by a Council of five Elders, and made up of a regiment of countless powerful Undeads. Seen as priceless pets - the Vampire is often hunted by mortals calling for even more need of the Forlorn Congregation. . .

P r e s c r i p t . . . ; ;
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x. No one Vampire may question the rule or the reasonings of any one Elder.
x. No one Vampire may mate, or form intimate relations with a Mortal.
x. No one Vampire may 'turn' a Mortal without said Mortal requesting the Eternal Osculation. [Eternal Kiss]
x. No one Vampire may 'turn' a Mortal that is not of Adulthood. [Under 16-years.]
x. No one Vampire may form a House without consent of an Elder.
x. No one House may keep Blood in Blood. [No mating between direct family in attempt to keep their bloodline 'pure'.]
x. No one House may attempt to cause or cause hostilities between another House or Houses without consent of an Elder.
x. No one Vampire may be judged for breaking Prescript. They shall face only termination by the hands of a Forlorn.



R U L E S

o1. Do not disrespect any other RP'er. If you form a dispute with another RP'er or RP'ers - contact ME directly.
o2. Understand the Limitations* of the Vampire Race in this story. Do not act outside said limitations.
o3. This is not a 'Free to Join' RP - you must send Character information and Post Sample to me in @ This Thread.
o4. If interested in Elder Rank - which will be open to limited Characters to receive - please state so in your PM.
o5. If interested in Forlorn Rank - which will be open to limited Characters to receive - please state so in your PM.
o6. If interested in Head of House Rank - which will be open to limited Characters to receive - please state so in your PM. [House Heads will be expected to have a good background to their House, and acceptable information regarding Vampire types permitted as House Members.]
o7. Use Quotations ( "..." ) for spoken sections of your post, and brackets (( [[ ]] )) or some other form of marking to mark yourself OOC. Do not post in this manor:

OOC: Hi guys. Can I join? :]

o8. Posts must be made in 'Normal' font size or smaller. Please do not use overly vibrant colors, either. IF asked to change your type format - do so without question.
o9. Inactive RP'ers, of a period of no lesser then 5 days, will be removed from the RP - and not be permitted to rejoin without GRAND reasoning. Said 'punishment' will not affect those who inform me of inactivity prior to being inactive.
1o. No multiple characters. You may play one person - only.
11. No one-line posts.

* L I M I T A T I O N S

o1. Vampires burn quickly via sunlight. A period of more then a few minutes, generally 4 to 5, will cause death. No Vampire is immune to this.
o2. Vampires do not like fire. Though fire heat and fire light do not harm them - the fear of burning can often overcome their ability to think properly. The older and more powerful - the less prone to fire burning you become. And thus the less fear you have.
o3. A stake through the heart will NOT kill a Vampire - though it can stun them and leave them unable to fight until removed.
o4. All other locations on the body that may be harmed will not cause much harm to a Vampire - unless said wound is cause enough for loss of significant, nearly all, blood.
o5. The cross itself will not harm a Vampire. However, strong faith can deter a Vampire. Strong faith in ANYTHING. Not just religion.

C H A R A C T E R S

V a m p i r e s . . . ; ;

Username: Lollirot
Character Name: Lucia de Lorme
Age: 200+
Gender: Female
Description:
Lucia stands 5'2" tall - weighing in at only 100lbs. Small bust - wide rounded hips/rear. A cinched waist from a lifetime in corsets. Her waist length hair is a ashen/gold blond - her eyes a silvery gray. Large eyes and plump lips. A true beauty - thanks to her mother, who she was a mirror image to.

[ http://lollipopdecay.deviantart.com/...agick-70883445 ]

She is a master of the whip - as well as being insanely skilled as wielding dual guns. She is the head of the Forlorn 'Army' - as well as being the 'pet' of an Elder. . .Thus forbidden to love another or to be part of a House.

Having fed from the blood of an Elder - Lucia has a number of powers not basically blessed upon other Vampires. She is a powerful young one - and a perfect example of what The Prescript could breed for it's followers.
Bio:
Lucia de Lorme was born a French Aristocrat. Youngest of three children - Orphée and Faye being her Brother and Sister, she was spoiled and doted on by her Father - Jephté. Lucia's mother, Anastasie, fell ill in Lucia's childhood.

Lucia's Father and Brother often traveled. In those times Lucia would be able to sneak to see her mother more often. Normally told to let her rest - she had little time with her ever.

Just prior to her 20'th birthday - Lucia had gone to visit with her mother late in the night during a snow storm. On entering the room - she found her mother in the arms of a dark man. His face buried in her neck, her mothers mouth parted to soft moans. Dropping a pitcher of water - Lucia gave away her being there and having seen. A shadow of adultery, the man swept down with inhuman speed on Lucia. Hearing only her mother voice screaming to spare her - before falling into darkness and faint.

On her 20'th birthday - after spending days locked in her room in pitch blackness at the hands of Faye on order of her mother - the dark man would come to her once more. Taking the final mortality from her - and commanding her to flee.

On the verge of death, with no idea of what she was meant to do with this life of night - Lucia was found by an Elder. Thus began her life with the Forlorn. More then 200 years serving The Prescript. . .
Extra: None.

Username: Hilf
Character Name: Keavy Douglas
Age: 563
Gender: Female
Description: With direct Scottish heritage, Keavy has the typical pale skin dotted with freckles and thick, wavy hair. It is brown-red in color, much like blood mixed into mud, with accenting forest green eyes. She's tall and lanky, not having much curve to her chest and hips. Keavy, however, has what people called elven features, with high cheekbones and a sort of royal posture about her.

Keavy likes to wear her family's colors. She often has some sort of tartan piece in her outfits, and if not still wears the typical blue and greens of the Douglas'. She also enjoys skirts and dresses, finding pants to be uncomfortable, especially while running. Some sort of dagger or knife is hidden upon Keavy at all times, normally in her shoes.
Bio: Keavy was born and raised in Scotland in the castle of the Black Douglas'. She was born during the Hundred Years War, about the time her Clan had ascended to such power it was thought they could easily take the throne. A few years after successfully holding the English off Scottish soil, King James II threw them out of Scotland and banned their tartan from being worn or made. As this happened, Keavy -the only child of a lower court royal- and her family had two choices; be sold into slavery and stay in Scotland or run away to Ireland.

Her family ran, living amongst the less-than-hospitable Irishmen. One night, as Keavy was returning home from working at a bar, Englishmen sailed in with dark flags and no lights upon the water. It was a raid! They often came to snatch children and sell them back at home, though Keavy was unlucky enough to be near to the shore during one of these times. They took her by boat to England, selling the starved Keavy off. For several years, she worked as a maid at a brothel, not yet being of age to do any true work.

Dreading her coming birthday, Keavy set the place on fire and ran through the night, managing to slide onto an estate where she could hide amongst the horses. When the lass awoke, she found a pale, strange man above her, staring at Keavy like she were a piece of meat. This man took the poor girl, giving her a proper bath and some food, commanding her to tell him her story. So Keavy retold her last fifteen years, also noting that her birthday was soon. He nodded, and allowed her to stay in the barn for feeding and grooming his horses. She wasn't allowed inside the house, and had to hide in the loft when others came out, "for your own safety," he explained.

The next month, as she turned sixteen, the man came back and -with surprising brutality- gave her the kiss of death. For what seemed a century, the man then stowed Keavy in his basement, teaching her how to cope with the smell of mortal blood without going into a bloodthirsty rage. Finally, after what was actually a simple year, he let her free.

Keavy's first act was to return to Ireland, finding her father dead and mother enslaved in Scotland. She lived in Ireland until the nineteenth century, where then she went to Scotland, living near Dublin and once more taking to wandering the highlands as she had as a child. When pathways to America opened, Keavy took one at the start of the twenty-first century, finding the life there harder than back at Scotland, but more free to do as she pleased.

The girl, Houseless and without any true ties to other vampires, took a mortal job as a security guard. Keavy stays there until today, not exactly enjoying the job, yet finding constant idleness worse.

Username: Fujii Griffon
Character Name: Rayleonard Leomeccanica
Age: 498 years
Gender: Male
Description: Rayleonard stands at an average height of 5'11, his skin pale as the moon, to which one would think he has a glow, in high contrast escaping from the tops of his head in disheveled fashion is his deep auburn hair which sprays down to his shoulders.

No particular fancy to any weapon in particular.

Bio: For close to half a millennium a daunting figure said to be a demon has been brandished by the military forces of Europe in secret. "Demon" "Mazoku" "Asura" "Atman" These names have passed the lips of countless to which have met their demise by his hands. Rayleonard living in darkness and captivity all his turned life knows only his name now, and that he is free. What made them forget of such a despicable and fowl creature such as him? He doesn't care nor needs to know. All there is left to him is the night and the rising Moon. Perhaps he'll find meaning in this endless night.

- Under Construction. -

H u m a n s . . . ; ;

NONE YET

H O U S E S

NONE YET

The city was alive! The people within it, they reeked of disgusting sin. Woman dressed like streetwalkers. . .though most were, men on the steps of clubs and of churches alike selling poisons of all sorts by the bottle. The night sky was filled with lights from the buildings, the theaters and the nightspots. The smells were strong of smoke, smog, and decaying litter. There was no silent location in town - not at this hour. Music blared from every window and every doorway. . .

Lucia walked slowly thru a crowd on a wide sidewalk beside one of the cities main roads. Her hands were tucked deep in an ankle length trench coat. Underneath she wore a black mini dress covered in sequins. A spiked belt about her curvy hips. Long bare legs ended in 7" platform heels, with an anklet of silver bells jingling to each step. Her bangs hung out over her shoulders, but the rest of her hair was messily wrapped up into a clipped tail. Even in the dark she had a set of sunglasses on over her eyes.

Plump glossy lips lightly waved along their length as she chewed on her own tongue lightly. She had few nights to herself, and when she did gain them she had no idea what to do. Even now - it was early, the sun had only just set. . .and she was just walking without aim.

Secretly, her hands in her pockets meant to play with objects under her coat. Hung off each end of her belt were her long-barrel dual pistols of pure silver. Hand crafted and engraved all over. . .Why did she even have these tonight? There was no job to do, no outward need. She could easily handle herself physically. . .

A deep sigh. Onward! Time to find some form of amusement. Perhaps a nightclub. Easy to catch a quick snack within those. . .

Upon a corner stood a young lady, perhaps in her late teens, it was hard to tell with her tall, yet flat body and aged expression, yet youthful skin. The skin was unnaturally pale, like flesh that had been molded from moonstone. Upon it were freckles, as fresh as splattered blood, dotting her face and arms. The lass had piles of brown-red curls, that were held back firmly with a green scrunchy. The green matched her eyes, as bright as the thriving highlands of her homeland.

The lady stood there, even as the light turned green, nose into a book. Her shin-length kilt whipped about with the wind, and her white shirt seemed to fade away against her skin. The lady had a long black pea coat on, the collar flipped up to reach to her ears, giving the woman a rather ancient look. When someone jarred into the reading lady, she blinked, realizing the crosswalk light just began to blink red.

Upon the wind a faint sound rose, making the tall woman half-turn, ears listening to the jingle. How bizarre, a bell anklet? Soon the owner came into view, almost making the gaunt-faced woman grin. Oh. That explained something. Keavy turned back around, pulling the collar up higher and hoping to perhaps hide herself. Interactions with others of her species weren't really the lassy's forte, and in fact, that one was the first she'd seen in at least five or so years. They'd certainly adapted to today's styles.

'Please don't see me,'Keavy mentall begged as her eyes stared intently to the light, willing it to turn green though she knew not even her powers were that great. It seemed to stay glowing red, spiting the poor Scottish woman. She watched the cars zoom past, allowing their deafening roars to dwindle her senses, the intoxicating scents drowning out her fine nose. It gave Keavy a headache, with neon lights half blinding her to make it stay.

It was the soft glare of street lights changing across auburn like red hair that caught her attention first. It was not common to see such a vibrant color anymore. Most American's where so muddled up in bloodlines that the 'red' heads of today were nothing more, in Lucia's opinion, then a dim glowing ember. Nothing like the roaring firey colors once adorned by such persons as. . .The Scott's, and what a coincidence. The smell of one hit her dainty nose right as the thought passed her. Thick lips turning up in one corner with a faint smirk.

She of course wanted a better look. Such a rare creature! Added to that, one of her own kind. They were far less common in this city then you would think. Lucia herself was only traveling through on her way home after a lengthy 'job'.

A sweet little hand reached up from her coat pockets, long slender fingers adorned in many silver rings dragging a few stray strands of hair back into place as she slowly walked up along side the girl. The light seeming to take it's time, almost as if it willed them to meet. . .Lucia let he hand fall back into it's pocket, but not until it had pulled away her glasses. Long thick lashes fluttered a few times as the eyes from under the glasses adjusted to the new lights. An minimalistic shimmer of pure white flashing over the silver colored eyes as she turned to look up to the girl.

"Lucia de Lorme," a semi-sweet smile as she introduced herself.

Keavy could have groaned as the other Vampira came to her side, but restrained herself in politeness. The woman return the blond's smile, her own a bit more distant, yet carefully not hostile. "Keavy Douglas," the woman replied gently, her voice holding a naturally timid expression, almost like it was question herself. She decided not to lie about her name, since it was pointless to one of her own.

This one was French, and not nearly as old as herself. Good. Keavy could out-run this one if she wished to, but decided instead to patiently tolerate this other until her curiosity was sated. "Long night, isn't it?" Keavy inquired, her voice seeming to fit the question much better than statements. Another car passed and Keavy inhaled the exhaust deeply, so as not to taste the smell of cold, dead flesh beside her. The aroma was always less than appealing to her.

And then, another question formed in the lass' mind, one that could possibly help her avoid running into others of her kind. "Do many of us travel along here?" Her voice was hushed, too low for normal standards, but Keavy was confident Lucia could hear her. The girl sounded earnest in her question, as if she wished to know so she could find more. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Though, no one but Keavy needed to know that.

Finally, the light became green, and the woman ambled at a mortal pace across. She still had an hour or so before her job started. It only took a couple minutes from here to reach her work, so it wasn't as if she had anywhere to go. Idly, almost as if it were too late, Keavy pondered where Lucia had been heading.

Lucia looked away after the returned grin. Mortals often were nosy, more so of pretty little girls. She thought it might seem a tad odd for her to have just walked up to the girl and started to speak as if she knew her. So, she attempted to make it almost impossible for the human eye to catch their conversation. Both could speak low enough to keep preying ears at bay, at the least. . .

"A pretty name. . .Keavy." Lucia drew quiet at that point. It would be obvious to the other Vampire that Lucia did intend to speak further, though, as the attentive nature of her body had yet to shift away. Lucia raised her eyes as the light changed. Keeping the same pace as the other girl, she began ahead. Both a tad slower then even the humans, which were now growing moody with such and walking around them to get across the street as quickly as possible. This made Lucia give a harsh snort, as well as drawing her lips into a pout.

Finally, she tilted her head to the side Keavy walked along. "This city? No, I can not say many of us do. There is no real use of this location. . ." Rolling her shoulders, she let her neck fall back into the correct place. "I am surprised to have found you. And by the smell of you, this city has been your home for some time. . .Perhaps you would like to explain? There isn't even a Forlorn congregation here. No protection for you at all."

Lucia had sensed she was much younger. Hell, not even half the age of the one beside her. This was not exactly strange though. . .Lucia was not anywhere near being an 'old one'. Neither was Keavy. . .And, after all, Lucia was often with Elders. She was used to being seen as a child. However - she also knew that she was Forlorn. Something this woman stepping across the asphalt with her - was not. Lucia expected herself able to protect against any harmful actions Keavy might - for any one reason - want to take against her.

Keavy's grin grew a bit short at the compliment, shier now that she was being given attention. "That's what it means... 'Pretty,' " the woman informed, making small talk at best. She walked the living walk in front of them before picking up her tone. Talking in such a small voice made her sound as old as she had been when she died. It seemed as though Keavy did not mind the humans, smiling at their impatience and reaching the other side with plenty of time to spare. She continued straight down the road, eyes traveling over the familiar signs.

When it was asked for the lass to explain herself, she shrugged and stared at her feet meekly. "I'm not exactly social," was what she said. It would have been all, if she did not feel Lucia was interested enough to hear more. "I like this place because there is no congregation. It is nice. I do not have to go out of my way to avoid other night walkers. I do not have to desert myself to highlands or tiny villages, where it is easy to see what I am. Here there is not enough people to become lost, yet more than enough not to be noticed. I do not fear having no protection, for I do nothing that would question it." Keavy sighed, idly strumming her nails against the hard bound book in her hand.

"I cannot say I am surprised to find you. It has been... Years... Perhaps almost a decade that I have not seen another of us. It was merely time before you came," Keavy mentioned. She showed a lonely smile briefly before her face returned to viewing the shops they passed. "By the way you speak, you must belong to someone. You must keep much company with the Forlorn, yes?"

There was the faintest hint of tribulation after the comment 'you must belong to someone.' It was gone quickly - it was not well looked upon for her to be anything but overjoyed that she was the pet of an Elder. She gave that semi-sweet smile once more. "Hmm? Oh yes. Yes I am spoken for. . .Actually I do more then keep company with Forlorn. I am the Head of the Forlorn Regiments."

Again. . .Lucia was VERY young. To be the head of a whole 'Army' was not a simple task - let alone a rank handed out lightly. It seemed almost a joke really, to say Lucia was what she was, even when it came from her own lips. However - the expressionless face had returned since that last smile. The stern nature of her eyes were speakers enough to the truth in her later comment.

"I really am just passing through. I did not catch scent of you prior to entering this City, so it was a strange surprise when I only noticed you once you were feet from me. . ." Lucia gave a little shrug, tilting her chin up in a somewhat stubborn gesture. Actually it appeared almost like an action a Royal would make when not getting her way.

That surprised Keavy, as one could see upon her face. The woman's eyes widened, showing white all the way around her iris, and her skin blanched. The woman almost stopped walking, shaking her head gently. "This I would not have guessed," Keavy admitted, though did not doubt it. No one ever made those sorts of comments unless they were true, especially about their own self. The lady continued walking, turning a familiar corner and finding herself within sight of her job.

"I hide myself splendidly," Keavy informed flatly when it was mentioned how dead her scent was. "It comes from living with mortals for all my eternity," she added. The lady was now walking a bit further from Lucia, the knowledge of her rank intimidating. "You begin to smell like them, talk like them... You know, be them. In fact, I sometimes almost forget my aversion to sunlight." Here she laughed, a hallow one but it was enough to have her tilt her head back slightly.

The moon reflected in a small pool of water collected underneath the broken gutter of a building showing age, the water stayed in it's worn nook in the alley, till a being clammered step by step through the small passage and fell to his side against a bricked wall and slid into the puddle of water. The water soaked into the rags and ripped tatters of cloth that covered almost every inch of whatever fell into it. The beast had wrists clasped by iron and chains. The chains had been broken previously as iron chains were no match for his inhuman strength to begin with. A yellow glint escaped from the rags about the head of the beast, the yellow orb reflected the bright light of the moon.

Rayleonard was this beast, and he was seeing the moon for the first time with free eyes. He had been locked away in captivity alone without his retainer to give him direction for half a century, and thus without direction left the home he knew as a black room of metal chains reaching out from him in every direction holding him perfectly still.

It was a wonder he even had a mind in that skull of his to tell himself to leave and find another purpose.

"You truly rather smell of their nasty fragility then of immortal existence? You, my young Scottish lass, are one of the strangest creatures I have laid eye - and ear - on!" She noticed that Keavy was trying to lightly distance herself now. Often those who chose life apart from the congregation were uneasy in being near even just a one. Lucia was more then just anyone of them, to top it off. She was sure that nothing she could promise or assure to the girl would calm her at this point. Actually, though, Lucia felt Keavy was taking the news pretty good.

The laugh did gain another soft grin from Lucia - but her attention suddenly was straying. How could she have missed another. . .? This was becoming a tad annoying actually. Lucia had become a bit tense, uneasy. She had turned her side to Keavy, and was darting her eyes all about looking for the holder of such a horrible smell. The smell of metal seeping into undead skin, of rotting fabric and moldy linen. The smell of a slave.

Slavery was all too common. Mortals were not all mentally defective. Many did know of the Vampire world, and many of those who did knew the income Vampires could make them. Just getting your hands on an artifact of the Vampire reign was enough to give a human a very comfortable life. However - the real money was in the capture of live Vampires. Grand pets they made! Or so the humans thought. . .

"Do you. . .smell that?" She questioned Keavy as she began to step ahead. Across the street in a dark, dingy alley a faint aura radiated. This was no overpowering sense, but enough to be sure there was dwindling immortality in whatever creature had escaped whatever captivity it had known.

And of course. . .A Forlorn Soldier could not ignore their kin in need. Lucia's eyes finally sparkled a bit in the bits of moonlight seeping through clouds above, she had spotted the shadowy figure. And towards him she began.

His neck arched back his eyes fixed still,completely oblivious to that which neared him. He was so content in the simple existence of watching the moon, then something entered into his nostrils, scent of perfume, and of flesh, different from the flesh which he understood made his chops salivate. It was of flesh much like his own.

Attention was turned, the single uncovered yellow orb found a new target to observe. A dainty young thing completely of another breed then those he ripped limb from limb and drank dry. It felt powerful instead of like the weaklings that crossed his path since memory forgotten. Only the retainer had the will to contain him and put him in place as a "demon" of many battlefields.

He didn't move besides that gaze, one such as him who knew nothing of purpose or self preservation merely took in the knowledge one could gain by their senses without wasting energy.

Slaves did not often break free. And due to the fact they often were kept very close to Mortals, it was nearly impossible to 'sniff' them out. So, though the Forlorn was very much aware of the mass amounts of slavery - there was really nothing they could do about it. Of course they were very harsh in their punishment when sellers were caught, as well as if buyers were. It just did not seem to deter the Mortals at all. . .

Lucia had stopped as the yellow orb of an eye turned up to her. The world seemed to slow around her. With her still and silent, the Mortals motioned on with their life at half the pace they once had moments ago. Her face lifeless as her body was, but her eyes glimmered still in moonlight like silver pools locked on him. She decided, the safer move to make at this point, was to search his mind.

A soft voice began to pick up in his mind, a soft echo fading after some words. Almost ethereal, the voice stayed genuinely gentle as if to stroke his subconscious.

"What is your name, boy? Where have you traveled from and for what reasoning?"

"These are things no mortal should see, nor those of the immortal world." From hearing those words a new image would enter her mind. He was letting her see his memories. 500 years of him killing masses, villages, and cities for the elite of the mortal world. War had atrocities and he was the tool to which they were birthed into this world. Like a beast he had wolf like movements in the past, ripping opponents apart at their throat. Or like mist he would encompass a village in a single night leaving nothing alive and bleeding them all dry.

The retainers that held him captive and under close watch had held him in dungeon deep in the bowels of the Vatican for years. During the second human world war he was sent to the battlefield often like any tool in an arsenal. Somewhere during that time no one came to release him anymore, or to have him feed. He had been moved to a remote location away from his original place and perhaps all that knew of him were killed during that time. When he awoke to the idea of leaving the place. All was gone, the building was in shambles. He himself having a thick layer of dust covering him that burst into cloud when he ripped apart his chains.

After leaving the confines of the small tiny room he entered the world for the first time as a free man since before he had been turned. Now he was staring at the image of youth. "My name is Rayleonard Leonmeccanica." He spoke for the first time in real audible worlds, and they seemed delicate, and almost as if his voice at any moment out of fragility could be snuffed out from this world.

Keavy stopped when Lucia had asked her to smell about, raising a delicate brow. She didn't normally like to try and smell out her kind, for it was quite a bit easier for her than others who surrounded themselves with Forlorn. But, soon enough, the third was brought into view. The woman wasn't surprised by his looks, and glanced over to see what Lucia would do.

If Keavy hadn't known better, she'd say the woman wasn't doing anything, but by the intensity in her gaze... Well, it was obvious to the lass. Keavy stood by, silent and wary. When he finally spoke aloud, the woman tilted her head gently. That was a name with orgins she couldn't place, which was peculiar for her. He seemed to be speaking to Lucia, though, and so she felt no need to answer. The young lass, in fact, edged a few steps away from them.

Being around another vampire was bad enough, but two...? Keavy had to curse her own terrible luck, it seemed. Maybe, now that Lucia had another upon her hands, one that truly needed aid, she could leave, hopefully to never see either again. It was a dream that Keavy realized was very faint, for rarely did a Forlorn forget another.

The world seemed to rush back to common speed again - at least in the eyes of Rayleonard and herself. The slowing of motion to the naked eye often became unreal to what truly was going on before it, when mental connections were created. It was not a common gift in Vampires to be able to link to another as Lucia just had, but it was also not exactly rare. Only to say it was not shocking to see a Forlorn do it so publicly. . .

A flutter of lashes as she forced her eyes back into focus. Tugging her jacket closer to her body, as if a chill had just shot up against her. She gave a quick shake to her head, and finally looked back over her shoulder to Keavy.

She stayed quiet a moment, and it seemed as though she had even let out a very gentle sigh. "I am almost certain you will not be pleased with this. It is not hard to see you are uneasy with the fact I am what I am. As you also mentioned, it has been a good gap of time since you had to deal with any other of our kind but. . .Please understand, you will get us out of your hair and of your town sooner if you aid me in this tonight."

Lucia swayed softly as she turned to face Keavy in full, it was more polite to do so. "There is no safe haven for me to bring him. And I can not hide him near mortals, they will ask too many questions. Until I can reach an Elder. . .I must stay here, in this city with him. Do you have somewhere we could go?" Lucia wasn't really asking. . .It was probably apparent to Keavy that she would have to do this task asked of her. To turn your back on the Forlorn was to turn your back on Prescript. . .and that, was asking for punishment even a Vampire would rather steer clear of.

Keavy, once more, would have groaned in complaint as Lucia turned to her, if it had not been impolite. So she created a stoic mask over her face, listening closely. The idea of spending more time with not only Lucia, but this other man... Keavy felt like saying no, and would have if the repercussions weren't so grand. Honestly, there was no way out of this. "You are correct, I am very unpleased," the girl stated.

With a softening look, the Scottish lass viewed Rayleonard in his despaired state. This will be her good deed of the decade, she was sure. "I can see no better way out of this than what you ask. My apartment -it isn't much, but it'll be good enough, I am sure. The manager won't ask questions, for the other residents are equally as shady as we." The woman uneasily shifted her weight, not sure what now to do with the male of their group. Did they carry him...? Or could Lucia do it herself?

The awkwardness that overcame Keavy was, she knew this, from her lack of time with others of her kind. She was not able to predict their strength, or intentions, and certainly did not know how they went about things. Keavy was so familiar with mortal life that, if she had happened upon this situation alone, would have called the ambulance for help. The lady did step closer, however, finally accepting the fact she was not getting away. Bound and tied, as they used to say. "I am Keavy Douglas, it is a pleasure," the young vampira introduced politely. Now up close she could tell he was younger than her as well, around the four hundreds, much like Lucia. All so young... What was this? "I don't know what has happened to you -and yes, I doubt I'd wish to- but I will help you until you leave our care."

It was a pledge, she realized, and one not entirely from her unending politeness. No, it was because her own heart ached at seeing his state. It was because of the memories he dredged up, of being sold as a slave, as being worked into prostitution... Of a life she wished to never live again, that this one must have been so close to. How he had escaped, she did not know, but felt a great deal of joy he had. And now, all this vampire -Rayleonard- needed was some intensive attention to get back onto his own feet. This was a cause Keavy -her own species or not- was willing to participate in. And all because she simply took a closer look at his terrible position.

He Pushed himself up off the cold and wet asphalt beneath him, and stood for the first time before them. Rays of the moon's light shone down on him pouring over the top of his figure giving him a glow. Bandages that were loosened with him laying in a puddle of water fell from his face to his shoulders allowing them to see his countenance for the first time. Youthful, with brazen dark auburn red hair, and yellow gems for eyes. Only stranger was his light pale complexion, he looked made of porcelain and just as delicate.

"You want me to go with you somewhere?" His eyes sharpened, and that fragile boyish look left him. He seemed resolute in not going anywhere with ones he knew nothing about. Though they had a similar familiar scent, it gave him a reassurance even if just a little that there was nothing coy in what they were talking about. "I'm not ignorant to your speech, I understand you two are talking about me..." sighing he leaned against the brick of a wall the energy he had displayed just with his leer disappeared, and he was finding support again in immobile objects.

"I will do m very best to gain contact with an Elder within this night. However, knowing the lot of them. . .it may take more then that. They often travel day to day, and locating just a one can be a rather. . .Well, it takes me more then a few minutes in a phone book." Lucia had begun to idly twirl strands of her ashen blond hair around her pointer finger. Stopping with a silent curse, as a few caught in one of her rings and snapped free from her scalp. Giving a resentful glance to her hand, before dropping it into a pocket as she did her other.

Her eyes widened a bit as he spoke up. She had no idea he had it in him to produce full conversation. His aura was pulsing so slowly, and with such little backing to it, she was sure he was near faint. Perhaps she was wrong. If he was one of the many used for humans aid in battle - he probably knew well how to preserve. She was sure enough they did not keep up with the care of the Vampiric pets.

Lucia gave a bit of a snort and grunt at how harsh he was being, when obviously she meant him no harm - nor did Keavy. The click of a heel sounded her rotating towards him. Now, her face had a slightly stern appearance. Something that oddly seemed more suitable for her. . .

"My name is Lucia de Lorme. I am a General of the Forlorn regiment. I am sure you understand the rank." Her lips pursed as she blew hair from her eyes. Giving a soft nod in his direction after. "You have been captive all your existence as a Vampire. I suspect you have sensed the young lady here, as well as myself, are like you. Not the animals you feed from. Not the animals who held you captive and abused the beauty that is your undead power."

She stepped with soft feet forward. Rather close to him. She seemed to lack a sense of boundary, though. . .he also, probably knew little of that. "The Forlorn is a group ruled by Elders of our kind. We follow a set of laws called the Prescript, that keep a decent level of peace to our world. We also, make it a point to help those of our kind in need. And you, my lovely boy. . .are in need. Believe me." She glanced about the street and sidewalks. "You will not fit in, and that will not help you with whatever your plans are now."

Keavy frowned at the news of the Elders' wanderlust, shaking her head gently, "Just to be expected," was all the girl murmured. The lass watched Lucia's frustration calmly, her own green eyes showing only dim interesting in her. Keavy, herself, was standing with her arms limp at either side. The woman was still as a statue, and could perhaps be mistaken for one if her hair did not sweep up into her face with each gust of wind.

As Rayleonard stood, the woman stepped closer, wary for him to fall. She could not see his aura, or be in other people's minds, but Keavy still knew the signs of a dangerously weak vampire. Hell if Rayleonard knew how to preserve, he was still suffering, as she had so long ago. Keavy's heart ached at seeing his amber-colored eyes, shining as brilliantly as she remembered the sun. When Lucia snorted, Keavy shot her a baleful glare, but only very briefly.

Apparently Lucia had something in mind as she began speaknig, and Keavy backed down, unwilling to get in the General de Lorme's way. The ancient lass stepped backwards, shyly wrapping her arms aorund her abdomen. As she neared the end of her speech, Keavy was shaking her head with such small motions normal mortals would have not noticed it. Rayleonard and Lucia, however, were not mortal. "That's rather harsh of you to say," she whispered once Lucia was done.

Then, gathering her voice so as to speak to Rayleonard, Keavy spoke up, "Do you truly not trust us, who are your kin? We cannot show you we mean well if you do not give us a chance." The girl smiled, hesitantly, not so sure he wouldn't 'fit in,' as Lucia had put it. She had, afetr all, well enough? It was true, she was a rare loner, but it wasn't as if she couldn't if she tried. It was simply that Keavy got nervous and paranoid around other Forlorn.

Sighing he looked down. "I suppose I'll go with you two for now. You have my momentary trust." wandering his eyes caught a glimpse Keavy. She was one that seemed worried, and afraid of something. Perhaps was it him? He thought, and he knew all the faces of those who had feared him just before he extinguished the light that burned bright inside them and faded like all others to his vicious feral-like fangs.

"You have nothing to fear miss, for as beastly as I may look. I am nothing but a mere gentlemen." He pushed away from the wall to bow, but the sight seemed strange in the fact he was much like a mummy wrapped in bandages and cloth of contorted and ripped shapes. The only sign of him being anything but cloth was his fair face. "Plus just as you said, do you not have trust in your own kind?" He lifted his head from the bow and grinned.

Straightening himself up, He looked to the tiny blonde haired one Lucia. "I'll follow you both wherever you may lead me."