Topic: Baptism of Blood

Lucky Duck

Date: 2007-01-02 17:41 EST
"The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?" - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles Lucien remained silent most of the way north toward the Sanctuary and The Empress' villa, and more to the point, the mansion bearing silent witness to the brutal extermination of an entire family. He offered little more than a nod or a murmured response to Kitty's queries...and warnings. He looked over the once familiar landscape. He used to know who 'owned' every corner and who lurked in every alley. It was all foreign to him now. The point further driven home by the presence Moredhel-elf / werepanther at his side. A presence not unwelcome, except in that it was deemed necessary. The barrister tore his attention away from the streetscape and glanced over at Kitty. She looked like she was marching into a warzone. He shook his head. It was a warzone they were marching into. Lucien finally noticed the infamous shotgun he didn't recognize earlier at the House and he recalled one of the many times the weapon had been called into service. A gathering of family at the Joint, interrupted by an 'ex'. Words to arms...arms predictably, to violence. He reached under his coat and fingers found the metal hilt secured at his side. Another lifetime ago. "We're here." He looked up at the mansion at Kitty's sober announcement. The guard she had posted at the front door was scrambling to his feet seeing her arrival. Lucien let out a deep breath, steeling himself as he stared at the building. "Lucky, you ready for this?" The barrister nodded, without looking over at Kitty. "Yeah I'm ready. Lead on."

(Author's note: This is a continuation of the "Here Kitty" thread posted under Around the Mulberry Bush folder)

Issy

Date: 2007-01-09 16:15 EST
Isuelt's knees were bent, her haunches riding close to the marbled floor. She was squatting in the entrance way for the last twenty minutes or so, just trying to grasp what was happening here.

There was barely any headway being made in the West End murder case...or was it cases? It was easy to lump all the atrocities together, still Isuelt couldn't help but wonder if inspired copycats were playing their lackluster arias in an effort to ride the latest wave of hype. In any event, the gruesome activities of RhyDin's under-bellied counter-culture were seeping closer to her home. She was nearly kneeling in the once warm foyer of the Windom family mansion. Although the Judge had never rubbed elbows with the seemingly close-knit family, Jewell had. And their home was not far from the Sanctuary.

The entrance way reeked of blood. And if terror had a scent, Isuelt was almost sure that its presence would also be detected. The family of four had been brutally murdered, along with their butler. While each body had been identified, the one that pierced the Scathachian the most was the youngest child. Its scalp was covered in the caked brain matter that earlier oozed from its fontanel. Isuelt had ground her teeth as she had looked upon the grizzly discovery by the crib in the nursery upstairs. It took a special kind of monster to cave in a baby's skull...not just the run of the mill degenerate.

The authorities had been through the house, and several were still present upstairs, finishing up whatever onsite investigation they could. Isuelt had drifted downstairs in something of a daze, replaying the events of the past few months in her mind until she found herself in the foyer of the home. She was almost overcome by the weight of what had occurred here...of what was occurring all over the city. And the fact that she had done nothing to stop it' Although she had worn herself practically ragged, as all of the Scathachians had, patrolling the West End, the fact was that this killer was still at large. And would strike again...perhaps closer to the Judges.

It was like they were being mocked.

Isuelt's thoughts ran rampant in her mind as she hovered in the entrance way, though the sound of footsteps and a man's voice, "Yeah, I'm ready. Lead on," shook her from her reverie.

Trixie McAllister

Date: 2007-01-10 02:08 EST
Terror did have a scent. It was the kind of pungent thing that stung your nostrils going in and almost sparked up all the bloodlines weaving around your body. It was acute. And it was killing her, she could swear it.

Trixie had followed at least two yards behind Issy on the way to the crime scene, trying to prep herself for what lay ahead. Each step closer brought another wave of blood wafting towards her, allowing the aroma of carnage to ignite her veins. She hated craving it. She did. But she caught herself licking her lips more than once.

As Issy entered into the building, Trixie had to build up a helluva will to follow. The smell was so goddamned strong, her knees were practically knocking together from the pressure of keeping herself in line. She only got as far as the doorway before she felt her stomach cramp up. She wasn't going to be sick. She was getting hungrier. She closed her eyes as she fought against herself, making sure she stood there. Making sure she stayed.

She knew she was messing with her body and that given the current strain on all of them, she shouldn't be pushing herself like this. Somehow, though, she thought she'd need this strength for whatever lay ahead. And besides, this was good motivation. I mean, what better way to make yourself get in gear than by making yourself feel really really shitty first' She had to find this killer. They had dallied too long. They'd let an entire family be slaughtered. She hadn't been sharp enough to catch whoever was behind this before. She was going to fix this. She had to.

She tuned out the voices as she lifted her nose in the air, gritting her teeth as she inhaled. She had to find a scent past the guts and gore, and past the other breathies in the building. She thought she almost had it once...wait...there....yes! There!....

Her focus was broken by someone gently trying to move her out of the way. She seriously almost snapped. Seriously.

Jenai Ravenlock

Date: 2007-01-12 00:32 EST
Of all of them, Trix could be the hardest to follow. But when she was following someone, she moved with more care. Even more so....none of these scenes were lost from her ears as she had been working and delivering food and clothing to a few of the elderly and recent widows. Gossip got around fast when someone died anywhere in this Realm.

The little people always seemed to know more first. And with Brian having tried so hard...

The smell, the scene that lay before their eyes didn't bother the firehaired one in the slightest, even when it should have. Something was changing, or had changed within the bronzed one. Something harder.

She stood beside Trix covered in black from neck to toe. Even her hair was hidden under a scarf of black that wrapped and hide the long thick braid that wove around her neck loosely. But the lilac of her eyes stood stark, bright against the night and her garb. They flickered to Trixie a moment, then back to what had their attention before.

Kitty Helston

Date: 2007-01-12 08:32 EST
"Yeah I'm ready. Lead on."

She simply nodded and then turned. Oh wait, there was Trixie. She seemed...tense. Well, it wasn't as if she could blame the girl. The grisly scene inside was enough to turn anyone's stomach. Not to mention all the blood. All the blood...it had to be driving the girl insane with bloodlust. And there was another clad entirely in black....oh, Jen. Good.

The scent of death was almost overwhelming by this time and she had to blink her eyes against the sting. She hated having to take the barrister to see this. Some people just didn't deserve to see such brutality. It wasn't fair.

She smiled as best as she could for Trixie as she carefully slid past her. "Don't mind us hun. The barrister wanted to see the scene and I was escorting him here. Is anyone inside?"

She opened the door and held it for the barrister to go in before her as she looked to the vampire. She kind of understood the girl's problem, but not entirely. So she did her best to make sure Lucky and herself were out of her way as quickly as possible.

Issy

Date: 2007-01-12 17:17 EST
Kitty's strong hands pushed wide the heavy unlocked door...ironic that it was one of those ash-wood doors usually chosen for its unrivalled security. But security was one of the luxuries the Windom family had not been afforded.

Isuelt stood slowly, her legs contracting as they pushed her upright. The Scathachian stood in the center of the spacious foyer, just in front of the sweeping staircase. Her leathers creaked as she reached her full height and took in the sight on the doorstep: Kitty Helston, holding the door for Lucien Mallorek. With her Sisters, Trixie and Jenai, not far behind.

Somberly she nodded, "Kitty.....Lucien." Those dark eyes drifted to her Sisters and somehow, even in the midst of all of this tragedy, it was a comfort to see them each and every day.

Stepping aside, she turned her head toward the staircase. Isuelt could hear the new constable finishing up his duties. Hopefully, he would leave this small group downstairs and let them get to work.

Lucky Duck

Date: 2007-01-13 17:08 EST
He noticed the Judges' presence as he and Kitty approached the mansion. First, McAllister. The barrister remembered her. She was with The Empress when Jewell first came to him about Isuelt. Then, Angelique. He recognized the young Judge from around the Inn. The elder Ravenlock's lover. Tension practically screamed off the Sisters, understandable, and he offered no more than a muted nod when Kitty addressed Trixie. Wordlessly, he stepped past the Moredhel-elf / werepanther when she opened the door. Lucien didn't need preternatural abilities to smell the blood. It was everywhere. He could practically taste it in the back of his throat and it stopped him mid-stride. A breath passed and he uprooted himself and ventured further inside to allow Kitty entrance behind him. "Kitty.....Lucien." "Lady DeRomiano." The barrister returned his grim and succinct greeting to the Judge. When Issy stepped aside and turned her attention upstairs, his own gaze followed the risers leading to the upper floors. Without another word, he started up the stairs. It was then it started,...played from the far reaches of his mind. So quietly, he didn't recognize it, but there it was. Soft and melodious...pastoral. A piece from a long ago cantata. The constable and his few remaining men barely received any recognition, let alone a distracted nod in passing. The barrister's attentions had already moved passed them. To the walls. To the floors. To red that screamed its testimony, its witness of the family's eradication. Red. It was everywhere. And colored everything with death. With deaf fury. And the music continued to play...airy and peaceful. Red led him further. Past silent screams. Muted fear. Led him to the nursery. Blithe melody, rising scales in a major chord, descended into minor chords. Red. It cried out from the stone floor, mourning the 'small survivor's' death. And the music stopped.

(Author's note: The melody referenced is a piece for the piano called "Sheep May Safely Graze" from Cantata BWV 208 by Johann Sebastian Bach.)

Issy

Date: 2007-01-15 11:44 EST
"Lady DeRomiano," the Judge smiled at the title added by Lucien and moved aside as he headed up the stairs. She was always grateful to see him; after all, he had been instrumental in aiding her release from prison.

Her movements took her to Kitty's side, "The new constable is up there with a few men...finishing up." As her dark eyes watched Lucien moving off the landing and around the corner, headed for the bedrooms, she turned to look at Kitty. "He's okay to go up there?" There was a pause as Isuelt felt it necessary to qualify her question, "I mean...there's still a lot of blood everywhere...and..." This Scathachian didn't know how much lawyers usually could stomach in the wake of gore, but a better than average chance stood that Lucien could handle it.

Her gaze flickered over Kitty's shoulder to her Sisters; specifically focusing on Trixie. A thought dawned on Isuelt that the smell of blood was probably doing a number on The Harlequin. Her voice softened to a rare coo, "T...you don't have to come in here, you know..."

Trixie McAllister

Date: 2007-01-15 19:26 EST
Now, normally, Trix would be giving high-fives to Kitty and JenJen, and grinning all dopey-like to the dignified Lucien, but today called for a solemn attitude rarely seen from the Trixster. She just barely dipped her chin in way of greeting to the law man and to the pretty Kitty besides him. Her red-headed sister got an actual touch on the arm, but it was brief and lacked the same affection it would usually possess.

When Izzy approached and attempted to soothe, a very nice gesture on her part, Trixie set her jaw firmly and shook her head. In a voice that hung heavier than her sister might be accustomed to, as if something dark and solid was clinging to her vocal cords, she replied almost curtly, though she really didn't mean for it to be sharp.

"I do. It's my job juss' as much as it is yours."

And because she could be a stubborn ass sometimes (she shared that with some of her other sisters and occassionally her boyfriend), she took a step forward and kept her body straight...even though it felt like she'd just been hit by a plow.

Issy

Date: 2007-01-24 12:47 EST
"Of course, T," she nodded, thinking it better to stay out of Trixie's way. She had really only seen her like this a few times before; she knew the demons Trixie faced on an everyday basis were much different (and at times much more unforgiving) than those that the rest of the world did. Isuelt looked past Trixie's shoulder to Jenai, "You okay there, Jen?"

Isuelt side-stepped few more paces and came to rest at Kitty's side. It would seem as if the ladies would await Lucien's return from the devistation upstairs. If one thing was certain, it was that a new course of action would have to begin.

This hit was too close for comfort.

Lucky Duck

Date: 2007-01-25 03:29 EST
Time stopped as he stood in the room. The authorities had long taken the bodies away, and have been through the mansion, more than once. Yet, he heard the infant's cries. Thoughts and emotions continued to storm within, raging behind the Lucien's outer calm. Death was not an alien concept to the barrister. Even a violent death. It was an ingrained part of life in Rhydin. Death came cheaply in Rhydin. Life was cheaper still. The residents seemed to take word of another fool's death, another victim of a psychopath, with great apathy as if someone was speaking about changing socks. Many barely flinched upon witnessing a bar brawl end up in a death. The barrister was no different. Nevertheless, even for such a hardened citizenry, the recent murders in West End appeared to have struck a nerve. And for Lucien, it resonated personally. It usually did when children were involved. Lucien made his way back downstairs eventually. The barrister nodded to the Sisters, then Kitty, unable to find his voice. He had wanted to see it. He saw. And something died within the barrister. The price paid for his baptism in blood.

Pharagos

Date: 2007-01-25 12:32 EST
Blood...

Sweet lure, the heady scent of adrenaline, endorphins and platelets would be an irresistible draw to any predator. Cloying, the amount would drive any into an orgy of animalistic satiation, were the will not strong enough. Such willpower existed, both within and without the manorhouse.

Sallow eyes blinked once, reaction to light across the way. He had been lured by the sweet smell of blood, once again spilled in the homes and alleys of the city. In truth, his curiosity had been piqued, as that of his creator, for even by that one's nature the string of bloodletting was vicious. So for now, he was ordered to lurk, and watch. Find out what you can and report. But, careful what he told that one, in case it interfered with his own plans for the future. So, for now, he held firm to the roof across from the manor, a dark spot in the blackness of night.

Senses caught the flare of disgust, as well as the pent-up anger those below possessed. The sensations flowing around the buildings was heady, and teeth curled back in a silent snarl. His own lusts were up, and the willpower that kept the anger from exploding in others was keeping him from swooping down, heavy black wings instead folding tight to broad shoulders. No, the creator had no ordered these be attacked, and he could learn much, watching.

Though, he could also admire the viciousness behind the attacks.