Post by delacoix on Apr 3, 2010 11:11:36 GMT -5
"What the hell is going through your head Delacoix? You do know there's Outsiders down there, right?"[/color][/font]
A harsh whisper fell upon the uncaring ears of Delacoix, his focus instead upon the blackened streets below their perch upon a fractured rooftop. He took notice of the Outsiders that dwelled not too far down the street some time ago, instead choosing to push on in pursuit of her objective. Many moments passed with Delacoix's cold gaze falling out the window. Black eyes searching through the equally black night that surrounded them.
His silence only served to agitate his companion further. Nervously his companions eyes flitted from ground below to his face, mistaking the quiet contemplation for something more. Never one for silence.
"Rêve, I swear, if this is another one of your games, I'm going-"
"I didn't turn you so you could point out the obvious and second guess me, Ghost," Delacoix finally snapped back, still not looking him in the eye. "If you can smell them, don't you think I can?"
He had actually advocated for his turning, rather than the draining of his blood, because he had been feeling the need for a companion to watch her back. Times were getting worse, and venturing out alone, despite age and equipment, just wasn't as effective as it used to be. When he found the boy, barely 18, clinging to life amidst the outskirts of the city, Delacoix felt she could much more from him by saving him (if turning can be called that) rather than draining him. So far, this had proved rather true, though he hated having to play mentor so frequently.
"I guess you can't smell it yet, being a newblood," scoffed Delacoix, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet slowly, "but there's a human around. A live one. I'm hoping we can get to it before they do, and without them noticing." Much easier said than done. Delacoix suspected that the few Outsiders that had chosen to come so far inside the city limits had done so because they smelled something. Something scarce. If the Outsiders could smell the human, they could probably smell a pair of Vampires, too.
Ghost took his time taking in the information. Weighing the possibilty of slaking his five day old hunger against that of combat with Outsiders. Humans who wandered from their safehold were growing too few in number. Those who relied upon the humans for sustainance were growing desperate, and the humans knew it.
Finally, Delacoix had found what he had dragged her disciple to the edge of safety to find. Rounding the corner below was the human, a girl as it turned out. Short blond hair escaped from underneath a black tuque, mathcing the rest of her black attire. A low snort escaped from Delacoix's nostrils. How the human could rationalize wearing black as a defense mechanism against those who didn't rely upon sight was beyond Delacoix. Yet he understood why they would continue to make such simplistic errors, and why they would only become more frequent and severe. Humans were accustomed to being at the top of the food chain. The grand hunters. The ones with the intellectual capacity to evade any other foe using mind alone. This was, of course, before the world had collapsed in upon itself. Afterwards, humans ceased to command the world around them. Instead, the world around them began to dominate the humans. Hunted. In this fall from power, they not only lost the influence, but the psyche, of a hunter. Yet they were not accustomed to being the prey, either. Stuck in feeble purgatory, unable to progress upwards to the state of dominance, yet unable to accept the lower role.
Blood and carrion grew stronger in the air. A warning that Outsiders were advancing upon the human. Ghost could smell it too, his face reflecting the terror that the fallen humans instilled in most.
"Come on, come on, come on! She's right there, let's just grab her and go!"
Once more, his urging went ignored. This time however, Delacoix was not simply choosing to ignore him. His attention was caught by several dark figures, stalking forward from further down the street. His companion didn't need to be told what this face meant, instead tracing his line of sight until he felt the cold shiver of fear trickle down his spine. Carefully his feet peddled backwards, away from the edge of the building.
"Okay. We're too late, she's fucked." His breathe was short and hurried. He didn't want to linger any longer at this point. "Let's go."
The slow shake of Delacoix's head was enough to battle the uneasy sensation tugging at her companions mind.
"This isn't a horde, Ghost. It's a few stragglers, desperate and weak from famine. If you don't want to get weaker yourself, I think you'll be joining me," Delacoix added, the statement much more a command than a suggestion. Black combat boots sounded softly upon the concrete as they approached the crumbling edge of the building. The human, now slowly edging her way from the advancing Outsiders who had clearly sleuthed her from afar. There wasn't even a chance they didn't know where she was. With skin as pale as the moon illuminating it they finally made their appearance upon long street. Years of living on the outskirts of the city, a life of constant violence, became clear. Scars, open wounds and torn remnants of clothing plagued each individual. Walking turned to sprinting. Calm turned to fury, and the maddened snarls and growls of the Outsiders filled the air.
No further gesture was granted to Ghost; no word, wave or look. As if expecting to connect with material that was not there, Delacoix's feet met the air beyond their ruined platform, and he began to fall.
"I love our little talks Rêve!"
Ghosts' frustrated sigh was the last sound Delacoix could hear before the whipping of air surrounded him. Only moments later did his boots connect with the ground, Delacoix instantly springing up unphased from his leap. Easily, this was one of his favored perks of being a Vampire. And he abused it quite frequently.
The situation was growing far more dire by the second for the human. In a matter of moments, she'd gone from seemingly safe, obscure to the world around her, to flanked by Outsiders and an Immortal. A scream filled the air, the first reaction of a human in peril. Unthinking as to the consequences of her actions, seemingly the human way in the eyes of Delacoix. The only thing her act of desperation managed to accomplish was reassure the Outsiders before her that she was infact there, and alert everything else prowling the Outskirts of her presence as well. Things were about to get quite complicated.
Moments later Ghost followed, noisely falling over himself after his landing. Delacoix had always instructed him to look at where he was falling, not anything else, if he wanted to stop crashing upon the ground. But the sight of the Outsiders was too potent.
Once again, Delacoix could only roll his eyes at his companions lack of tact. With a quick look to make sure his human quary was still near, Delacoix confidently stepped forward to place himself between the approaching Outsiders and his prize. The snapping jaws of the creatures before him weren't his concern now. What worried him, was what other monstrosities would be drawn in by the high pitched scream only seconds before.