Private Tales Haunts of Kindred Spirits

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Samara Asenta

Samara Asenta

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Graveyards. A still, serene, picturesque field of stone statues laid out in rows bereft of the noise and bustle of daily life. Not the place people typically found seclusion. Naturally people whispered about monsters prowling about the tombstones. Any place there weren't people was safe for such fiends to gather. Half excuse to avoid uncomfortable reminders, and half truth.

Samara, however, liked to survey graveyards because Necromancers were more likely to visit than most. Some of that study might be of use to her. If they turned violent then they'd become a different use to her. Either way would be beneficial.

Scenery would have been better with company. Time had passed and the young Vampire had gotten used to being a silent outsider -- even when people were oblivious to her nature. Used to, but not comfortable with it. Just as Samara had yet to become comfortable sinking her fangs into people. Seclusion did make the desire for blood letting easier to handle with the lack of temptation.

She leaned up against the side of a mausoleum with a view of the graveyard entrance. Even Necromancers and Evil Mages could use the 'front door.' They didn't walk around wearing signs that spelt out 'I am evil' after all. Fortunately, Samara's personal experience as a Mage helped her identify others of the mystic persuasion. Of course, if they started raising the dead that would be a tell as well.

While waiting on more than a few animals crying in the early evening, the pale dark skinned Elf slowly turned a short sword over in her hand. As a Hunter of monsters she'd had martial training, but with the lack of magical power since her affliction Samara had been forced to practice more with such weapons. Inelven strength and speed was useful, but her skin and bones weren't made of steel. A sword was still best blocked with a sword or shield. Practical combat techniques still applied, which explained why the Seraphs had been so successful at killing creatures like herself in the past. They were difficult, but not impossible to best.

Jakub
 
Jakub had nothing against graveyards, no personal dislike for them. Yet, this one appeared oddly eerie, possibly due to its secluded nature and complete detachment from human touch. The locals indeed stopped burying their dead here years ago. Since then, no one bothered to take care of this particular boneyard, a fact that brought a light scowl to Jakub's otherwise lax face. Jakub's observations led him to conclude that the local flora began consuming the headstones a while ago. Vines spread through stone, unfurling along the surface of mottled granite monuments, going so far as to dig into the mineral, endangering its structural integrity. He knew that these monuments would be gone in a few years, wilting before the passage of time, worn down by mother nature's unforgiving hands.

Nonetheless, Jakub could do little other than shrugging at the unfortunate kismets of those submerged within these neglected grounds. Not that they would care, their souls having departed to whatever afterlife there is a long time ago. Knowing that the dead wouldn't be disturbed by his presence, the man began digging. The male brought a tiny shovel with himself. It looked like a utility tool but could displace dirt just as easily as any other implement. Despite that, Jakub hoped that he wouldn't have to delve for long.

Much to his surprise, it didn't take long before he ran into something sturdy. The less-than-optimistic part of his brain assumed it to be a rock, but the prospect didn't discourage him. Jakub's curiosity reignited upon seeing a smooth dome sticking out of the soil, reinvigorating him with the desire to delve deeper.

Pushing his digits into the loose soil, he pulled out a human skull that was missing its lower jaw. The bone was flaxen, an indicator of its advanced aging. At least he'd refer to it as such. Perhaps the less savory individuals would use the adjective "piss-colored" instead.


Jakub made an educated guess that not all bodies resting here resided within caskets. He was lucky to run into one such corpse, or perhaps a piece of it. Years of erosion must've moved some of the skeletons to different parts of the cemetery. The rest of the body could very well be meters away from where he found the skull.

He chuckled, staring into the skull's vacant eye sockets, devoid of life's precious spark. This one was perfect. The lack of mandibular bone didn't bother him. The skull's yellow, rutted texture gave it a vintage look. Perhaps he'd take it home, using it for decoration. Maybe he'd even inscribe some runes on the skull's crown, turning it into a magical battery to store his precious arcane knowledge.

Samara Asenta
 
Samara kept the crypt between her and the arrival another. She slipped the sword away and watched as he prowled through the graveyard with purpose. Not someone here for a loved one with sorrow's weight on their shoulders. The shovel was a give away as well. Despite such a tell, however, no action was taken even once the man set to work. Reconnaissance was never a waste of time.

When the man lifted a skull for study, the pale dark skinned Elf stepped quickly through the graveyard to circle behind the man before daring to approach. Careful, fleeting steps to avoid an errant twig or soft shift of earth. She wanted to get closer for a better look at the man and what held his attention.

And to converse with him at a far more intimate range than from across the graveyard. She paid less heed to the sound given by her step as she began to circle around the left side of the grave. No need for the man to twist all the way around to see her as she spoke. "I did not think to find such a handsome man of this particular Art." A little compliment to throw off the sudden intrusion. Hopefully he would not be so startled to start a confrontation.

Jakub
 
He was about to shove the skull into a pouch that he brought with him until Samara made her presence known. The unknown woman snuck upon him. Jakub knew it was a female, judging by the quality of her voice. He spun on his heel quickly, facing her with a shocked expression gracing his otherwise tranquil features. It took him a moment to inspect Samara from head to toe, noting her alabaster white skin and cat-like eyes, the markings of a nosferatu. His eyebrow arched upwards as Jakub's head tilted sideways. "Good morning, miss. I see that you've decided to sneak up on me; how engaging." His voice was a cavernous baritone, carrying a degree of discipline with it. It was the voice of a man who had a hint more power than his frame would otherwise imply.

Jakub coughed, clearing his throat and straightening his collar with one hand while the other gripped the skull firmly. He wore nothing but a sleeveless vest on his upper body, exposing his musclebound, tattoo-covered arms. If not for those, most would've assumed him a scholar. A few could see past his facade. Jakub usually wore baggier clothes, coats, and dress shirts that did well to hide the width of his imposing frame. "Your words are flattering, but I'd like to think that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder." He then raised the skull, extending it towards Samara to see, his digits still tightly clinging to its coarse surface.

"By art, you refer to this?" The male quizzed, his icy blue eyes locked onto the vampiric female. It'd be a lie to say that he wasn't surprised. Only a handful of people would address the bone gathering as a type of "art," with most of these individuals being either necromancers or graverobbers. Could it be that the lady in question was a thief? Highly unlikely, she dressed far too well to be one. Necromancy, on the other hand, appeared as a far more plausible explanation to her presence in this bum-fuck nowhere.

Samara Asenta
 
"The easier to speak with you," Samara replied merrily enough. That and to make it more difficult for someone with powers to start scribing some manner of conjuration circle or tossing down an obfuscation cloud for a hasty retreat. Meeting someone like this -- out here -- didn't normally start with trust and good repertoire. You had to build those.

The pale dark skinned woman, herself, had a broader frame than most woman -- or so she'd been told of this Outlands in which she found herself. A lifetime of training to hunt monsters had that effect. Physical frailty was a weakness on the battlefield; she hadn't been an expert in the martial world until her curse, but glass cannons hadn't lasted in her former life.

"Perhaps. That would depend on you." Samara extended a hand out to him if he desired a more equal footing with his new guest. She didn't want him getting the wrong idea that he'd dug his own grave. This was to be a conversation, not an interrogation. "Though I have been in search of people that practice such Arts. You see to be a man of intellect and taste. Perhaps you could help me?" Someone skilled in Necromancy or Dark Magic would be quite useful to someone seeking to better understand their own condition; they might even provide another means to feed that didn't involve blood.

Jakub
 
Jakub's brows slopped into a relaxed expression upon noticing Samara's friendly gesture. He grasped her hand, unsure whether she expected him to shake or kiss it. His was a much larger manus, almost unusually so. Jakub's hand must've been as large as a dinner plate. Strangely enough, it was neither bitten nor calloused, a sign that he took good care of himself. He turned Samara's palm towards his face, inspecting it thoroughly, enticed by the smoothness of her paler-than-moonlight skin. "I take it that you are a vampire? Everything so far implies so. Your hauntingly bleached complexion, catlike eyes, and the fact you are frolicking about this graveyard so far from any human settlement."

"Don't take my words the wrong way. I am an occultist by profession. It's a part of my job to know these things," Quipped the tall man, leaning forward to take a better look at her face. It was sculpted, with highly seated, angular cheekbones, wide eyes, and a perky nose. It was Samara's ears that took him off guard. She must've been an elf before the curse of vampirism took her over. Elvish leeches were much rarer, courtesy of their naturally long lifespan. It was humans who willingly joined the ranks of undeath, all too keenly aware of their frail mortality. "Captivating," He mumbled into his chin, his voice barely above a whisper.

A wave of realization suddenly hit him, making Jakub pull back, letting go of Samara's delicate hand in the process. "I forgot to introduce myself. How discourteous of me." Jakub sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, feeling a wave of the first-handed embarrassment take him over. It'd be dishonest to say that he was at the top of his game. Usually, people don't meet each other at cemeteries just as the sun is about to rise. "I am Jakub, Jakub Corvinus Popović, an occult scientist extraordinaire, and a world-weary traveler b choice," He presented, bowing slightly with his dominant arm diagonally crossed over his upper chest. "May I inquire as to who you are, miss?"

Samara Asenta
 
A smile played at the corners of Samara's lips before she pulled the man forward. Just enough to help him out of the grave. There was no need to tower over him. Then a melodic laugh followed the man's inspection of her hand and remarks about her appearance. "Must have been a shadow cast by pale moonlight." The Elf's eyes met his steadily, each a frosted blue ring.

Normally such open scrutiny would not have been welcome, but this man was a self-proclaimed Occultist and she'd come here interested in such a person's thoughts. Not to mention Jakub wasn't displeasing to the eyes. Had he been a passing strange in the street, however, Samara would have dismissed him with some barbed words or left him far behind. A fine brow lifted ever so slightly as the man murmured to himself.

"Well met, Jakub Corvinus Popović. I am Samara Asenta." The Elven woman stepped forward as she reached out to take the man's hand once more. "Bounty Hunter by necessity. But that's not why I'm here." Though she'd wanted a hold of him in case that openness -- the same he'd shown her -- spooked the man from who knew what grave-robbing crimes might hound him still. "I'm pleased to see you're not perturbed by my... condition. You're very observant. Then again, anyone I wish to speak to on this matter should be so astute." A life time of study in the magical pursuits had left her with a little more vocabulary than most would expect from a typical mercenary.

Samara made certain to securely hold the man's wrist as the conversation progressed. "What I could use from you, if you're willing, is a little information. But you won't be able to answer properly like this." As she appeared he might draw the wrong or inaccurate conclusions about her cursed state. Knowledge was what brought her here. Truth. Whatever it might be.

With that said, Samara released the iron grip she held on the dark beast within. The pale dark skin turned bone-white nearly matching her white hair. Her eyes became a fathomless depth in the blink of an eye with two silver-white rings floating within -- a life preserver for the living to cling to as they fell into her gaze. Somewhere for them to rest as the Vampire's gaze filled them with new purpose. She hoped this man had a strong enough mental constitution not to surrender too easily.

"I hope this doesn't startle you. It's been so hard to find people like yourself -- someone willing to converse about what I am. After all, a monster took nearly a full month to turn me into this. I could use an Occultist's thoughts on the fiend's design."

Jakub
 
He looked at her now transfigured form, tilting his head sideways. It was then that a cavernous chortle began building in the pit of his belly, only to escape as a raspy chuckle. "Oh dear, you need not worry about startling me," Mused the scientist, leering closer to Samara's body, observing it with utmost care. Something in his gaze spoke volumes as to how mundane he found her to be. He reached out, fingertips brushing against her hide, feeling that it was gaunt and spread to its very limits. The act of transforming must've taken a toll on her body, insinuating that it wasn't something Samara could do willy-nilly.

"I've seen far worse. Whoever did this to you must have been a very unexpressive individual. To think how much they could've added to you if they wanted to," Jakub added, wandering off into the wayward machinations of his own thoughts. He appeared as if in deep thought. The cogs in the back of his head were spinning rapidly, creating ideas, scenarios, solutions. "Your body is not beyond repair. Admittingly, I see little wrong with your current form, besides the fact that it isn't that of conventional beauty." Jakub gently cupped her cheek, turning Samara's head aside to get a better look at her profile, eyes, and nose, in particular, the latter of which appeared atrophied, almost bat-like.

"I'll make an educated guess and assume that your current frame endows you with superhuman abilities. Not uncommon among vampires, there are but a few whose strength remains the same as it was before turning." He suddenly ran his hand along her forearm and lower biceps, periodically squeezing to test out Samara's iron sinews. She didn't appear muscular, but he knew that each of her fibers had tensile strength far surpassing that of an average elf. "From a pragmatic point of view, there's zilch wrong with your body. Is it the cosmetics and the diet that bother you, Samara?" Probed the stygian-haired detective, his eyes boring straight into her's without a hint of dread or hesitation.

Samara Asenta
 
Samara's lidless eyes watched the man as she stood there. An alabaster statue with black lips and even blacker eyes. His gaze perturbed her on some level. One the Elf did not wish to acknowledge, but could not ignore. Jakub was not immediately taken with her beauty nor trembling in fear of what she was. One or the other was to be expected, but both struck a nerve. Then his initial impression... he might as well have jabbed a ball of fire into her gut. The muscular Vampiress could feel the little pinpricks race across every inch of her glory. 'Unexpressive?' 'Worse?'

"There is nothing wrong with my current form," the Elf snapped, her smile replaced with slight parted lips allowing the pillars of her fangs to be seen in the corners. The words flowed over her lips. Where they came from she didn't know. All Samara knew was that for some reason she felt insulted, even when this form was not her own. There'd been times the young Vampire had gazed into a reflective pool and seen herself, and while there was rage in her heart still there was also... admiration. Jakub looked at her as though she were incomplete when Samara felt nothing of the kind.

"What bothers me," the words nearly a growl, "is that the...monster that turned me into this spent a month doing so. In my travels I have heard many speak about Vampires, and almost all of them say the process is quick. A few days, perhaps, once the body is in the ground. I have not heard any where the maker spends so much time with their... creation. What bothers me is that I feel Her thoughts intruding on my own no matter how far I travel, and that it is all the stronger when I look more like Her," Samara swept one hand down the length of her body, "than I do myself. Is that conventional for Vampire, Occultist?"

Whether the man knew or appreciated it, the harsher tone to her voice was a far better fate than the one that played itself out in her mind. The Shadow tucked away in the recesses of her soul beckoned her to rend the man's flesh for what he'd said. If the Elf herself were so easily swayed, however, she would never have garnered the fiend's attention in the first place.

Jakub
 
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"Oh, come on, Samara. Frowning is so unbecoming of a pretty gal like you. You are going to give yourself wrinkles by making those faces," Chortled the man, brushing his fingers against the contours of her face as he passed by. Placing his hands behind his back, Jakub paused, back turned to Samara. Jakub contemplated the possible implications of her state. He pondered about the things unseen, the things unknowable, and things incomprehensible. It was as if a barely audible voice verbalized him the back of his head, its potency barely above a whisper. None could hear it besides Jakub. Only he knew what it meant and what it enounced. It hinted at Samara's usefulness, impelling him to aid the vampire in her plight.

He was about to argue back but had no desire to perform displays of public lunacy. Jakub murmured a handful of words into his chin, their frequency far too enervated for anyone's ears to catch. "There are about a dozen possible explanations for what happened to you at the hands of your sire. Not all are related. Not all can bring you elucidation," The male retorted half-heartedly, spinning on the back of his heel to face Samara. "Vampirism is an affliction of many strains and many mutations. Think of it like different dog breeds. They all derive their heritage from the wolf, Canis Lupus," Jakub placed his hands in a horizontally vertical position, about a foot apart from one another. "Nonetheless, the domestic canines of today vary massively in their morphological differences."

"I've heard about the undead imparting a piece of their essence into an underling as a fail-safe." Jakub reached into his coat, retrieving a silver-lined pocketwatch. He opened the contraption, shocked to see that it was already close to seven in the morning. "It allows the sire to take over the mind and body of their offspring, meaning that the older vampire can essentially reincarnate by extinguishing the mind of another." Jakub wouldn't admit it in a hundred lifespans, but he found the prospect of being trapped in his own mind most unsettling.

"I earnestly hope that isn't the case with you," Jakub commented while inattentively rummaging through his pocketed belongings. "Having the sanctity of your headspace defiled by an outside presence is bad enough. That is without considering the possibility of someone stamping out your consciousness without giving you a chance to fight back."

"I'll help you," He finally divulged, sending a look of unfeigned comprehension her way. "But I won't do so entirely out of the goodness of my heart. If you want, we can strike a mutually beneficial bargain."

Samara Asenta
 
The white rings fluidly followed the man in the black sea of Samara's eyes as he moved. The familiar touch did little to quell the perceived slight. Her lips parted in silent threat to sink twin pearly white fangs into his flesh. Control did not elude her, however, in the revealed state even while the urges were all the stronger.

Despite the couching in uncertainty Jakub led with, the man followed up with a small confirmation of a possibility. That it was associated with the Undead, however, did not resonate with her; but that did not mean it was ruled out. Disturbing as the possibility may be. It would explain how close the monster felt at times with her honeyed, tainted words whispering sweetly in her ear.

At Jakub's offer, a grin sprouted beneath the eternal field of black. "Never had I thought you would. I was prepared to crash the worshipers of a Dark God on the other side of the city. Unlikely they'd extend an offer out of the goodness of their heart either. So," Samara planted her hands upon her hips just above her sheathed blades, "what is it Jakub the Occultist would ask of a Vampire like myself?" In addition to the silent request that she not tear his neck open during or after their working arrangement.

Jakub
 
Jakub chuckled at her almost haughty display, picking up the skull he oh-so-conveniently left sitting on the nearest tombstone. He gripped the thing, looking into its bottomless black sockets with abandon. Breathing in and out, Jakub did his best to concentrate, feeling the tender deflation of his thorax with each passing heartbeat. The man mustered all of his available concentration, feeling his hands rattle and warm up as time went by. The skull began to glow as if commanded to do so, releasing maroon tinted sparks from its previously desolate cavities. A symbol appeared on its crown, resembling the Odal rune. It looked battered, with chipped edges threatening to split the skull in half. There was no doubt about it. The rune was spreading, growing in size as the once faint hue turned into an invasive presence, nearly blinding the occultist.

Jakub found himself partially dazed, unable to keep his eyes anchored to the sign any longer. He blinked, his resolve steeled, knowing that the moment of action was ripe. He tried letting go of the skull, only to find that his attempts met with force. Jakub felt as if his fingers began to cramp. Their movements were painfully sluggish and exasperated. It took him every ounce of energy to peel his digits off the accursed object, watching it hover but a few meters above their heads. The skull wasted no time bursting into a cloud of something that only described as...smoke?

Long, wispy tendrils of blackness seeped out of every crevice, floating upwards only to vanish upon getting too far from their source. Jakub gave Samara a fatigued smile, rolling up his sleeve to reveal an array of equally gloving tattoos, each one possessing the same eerie quality as the rune. "It is quite simple," He began, momentarily halting himself to take a big gulp of air. "I'll aid you in your plight. You'll owe me one favor. A favor that I can call upon at any time or any moment. And that's where things get fun."

"This is an agreement sealed with magic, meaning that neither of us can escape it unscathed. If I fail to fix your issue, my own sorcery will devour me alive," He grinned nastily, revealing his perfectly arranged, pearly white teeth. If Samara bothered looking into his eyes, she'd make out that they were, in fact, dilating rapidly. "But Samara, if you fail to deliver on your part of the arrangement, well," Chuckled the man, extending his hand forward, expecting her to grip it. "The price will be worse than if you had never met me."

"Now, won't you shake a poor sinner's hand, darlin?"

Samara Asenta
 
Necromancy had not been her field of study in the mystic Arts, but Samara knew of the practice Jakub employed. To what purpose the man seemed intent on carving a rune into the skull, she couldn't say. A soft hiss escaped her lips as her eyes narrowed to slits at the light emanating from his spell. The dark was a far more comfortable place for her now.

Thankfully such discomfort did not last long. Samara watched as the skull elevated into the air as power poured forth. Symbols on Jakub's flesh mirrored the energy that watched over them from above. A connection the man had established. For a purpose he soon made clear.

That Jakub would demand an unstated, open-ended 'favor' of her in the future did not perturb Samara. It was the price of such things, and she had precious little to lose. What did scratch at her thoughts, however, was the undefined nature of what he would assist her in completing; and how failure to do so would carry the most severe of consequences that would mandate her perform this act nor matter Samara's own thoughts. That was dangerous.

"My plight is my own, Occultist. To satisfy this pact, we must agree on when either side is satisfied." Of course this went both ways. Samara couldn't force Jakub to accept any particular action as the 'favor' she would owe him. That said, any 'favor' he asked of her not intended to fulfill their pact was subject to her own counsel on whether to fulfill or ignore it. It seemed a reasonable clarification to make before sealing such an arrangement. Nothing was worse than one or both sides not fully comprehending the nature of such a thing once struck. Unintended consequences might result.

The alabaster woman extended her hand out to accept his, unless he objected to the minor clarification of terms. "Long as you'll accept the word of the Damned, you delicious morsel." If Jakub felt inclined to continue being overly playful and outright dismissive of the threat she posed, then she'd return the favor. Samara could be playful. The trick was not becoming so playful she drained the other party dry.

Jakub
 
Samara's words earned her a light-hearted chuckle from her male acquaintance. Jakub couldn't help but snort at her words, finding them beliciously bemusing. "I'd never request favors that are beyond your scope of ability. After all, only an equitable entrepreneur can safeguard the trust of his clientele." It was then that his hand grasped her's, gently clinging onto the vampire's softened flesh. Jakub's eyes never broke the contact, staring into Samara's orbs with unfaltering certitude. He didn't shiver before her exuberant threat. "You desire total autonomy from the one who damned you to an eternity of ill-fated suffering as a creature of the night, a parasitic entity that feeds on the living to sustain itself." An imperceptible inkling of curiosity laced his words as he applied a slightly tighter grip upon Samara's deathly-colored appendage.

"I do wonder if you'd like to be vital once again. Sadly, I cannot promise the latter, but the former is within my propensity to accomplish." Jakub made an inconsiderable step closer, straightening out as he severed the eye-to-eye contact with Samara. He was significantly taller than her. Jakub's body warned him that bending over placed it in a discomfited state. "I promise not to fail you, as long as you can do the same, miss vampire."

"Buckle up. It's going to be a wild ride." Was Jakub's last coherent sentence before he seized her real firm, squeezing Samara's hand with significantly more force than his frame should've been capable of exerting. Tendrils of otherwordly energy rippled to life, unfurling across the surface of Samara's forearm, digging into exposed skin with unholy vigor. They spread from her limb to her torso, concentrating on the area of Samara's upper chest. Both could identify a harrowing torment as the energy did something to their bodies. It seared their flesh in two specific areas. In Jakub's case, he incurred a burn on his left shoulder, while Samara got one just underneath her bosom.

The burns were indistinguishable from one another. Both resembled a human eye in shape and structure, albeit much less detailed and somewhat mottled due to the imperfect canvas housing them.

Samara Asenta
 
"I won't suffer for an eternity," Samara agreed, "but I am not a creature of the night." Semantics. Most of her life was spent in the darkness now, this was true enough. Most tend to think such creatures restricted to the shadows, however; that they were safe in the two-thirds of a day in which they 'ruled' over the monsters of the world. A sad miscalculation for those that tried to treat Samara like any other Vampire. Let them drag her into the sun to their own peril.

As to what she desired... Jakub's statement was incomplete. Though what he did not say Samara herself had not confided nor did she fully understand it herself.

The tighter grip to her hand did no draw the black eyes to wince in pain. Samara was as strong as she looked, and stronger still. Her own grasp intensified in turn should the Occultist demand to arm wrestle their pact into existence. "Vital?" A laugh echoed among the tombstones. "I'm not half as dead as you believe."

Jakub continued to show a lack of deference to her personal space as he closed the distance. Yet the abyss into which he gaze never blinked. Should he desire to stare into her eyes for hours, Samara was of the mind to let him. After all, it was what She had done. Night after night. Staring into a soul-consuming emptiment. It would not be Samara's fault if the man lost himself to those depths and became her servant if he tried, however.

"Lofty words. Confident and full of bravado. You can trust I will uphold my end of our arrangement, Occultist." They had yet to even identify the true nature of things and already he seemed to promise her 'total autonomy.' An arrogant confidence, but not something she besmirched at first blush. Being a Hunter, Samara had plenty of that same arrogant disregard for the danger lurking in the dark herself. It made life worth living.

The symbol of Jakob's pact burned brightly upon her flesh as she held fast to his iron grip. Samara had felt the mystic shackle of understanding between them. Something she'd grown accustomed to suffering and yet no less smitten by being bound by anyone or anything. What went unseen was how this glyph faded from her alabaster flesh, only to return a moment later as the stark white took on pale dark hues once more and Samara's eyes became an ice blue once more.

Dawn had crested, and while Samara did not instantly burst into flames, the darkness held little appreciation for the light of day. Her Elven appearance resurfaced bidden or otherwise with shadows given form and soon diminished in stature.

A breathy sigh flowed from the Elven woman. "I hope you aren't squeamish. I have the feeling we'll see quite a bit of one another now, and I do need to feed -- one way or another."

Jakub
 
Jakub let go of her hand, proceeding to stumble around, knees buckling under the weight of his torso. He felt physically weakened by the ritual. As if some force had leeched the very vitality from his otherwise sturdy frame. There was always a fee to pay, either somatic or spiritual. And so he went, stumbling about until he reached the nearest memorial, pressing his tired body against it for some much-needed rest. Jakub's breathing became heavier than usual, his chest heaving half a dozen times in a second. He directed his gaze towards Samara, disgruntled by realizing she could still stand without tumbling over.

"You have no clue how much energy these pacts require," groaned the man, rubbing his face with a look of exasperation written all over. He tried standing up, but to no avail as his legs weren't listening. It'd be a fair few minutes before they returned to normal. All Jakub could currently do was sit and wait for his arcane might to reinstate itself. "The connately obtruded constrains of my mortal shell decided to rear their ugly heads yet again. It must be nice not having to worry about such unimportant details. Wouldn't you agree, Samara?"

Jakub wasn't the one to joke around, but he found the situation all too hilarious. It felt as if someone just made a pact with the devil. Funnily enough, Jakub couldn't quite discern in whose shoes he was.

Samara Asenta
 
Samara slowly closed the distance between them after Jakub collapsed before one of the memorials. She stopped just short and crouched down before him so their eyes were once again at equal level -- or near enough. A smile graced her lips as her icy gaze lingered. "I cannot eat or drink as you do. I wager I need not breathe nor sustain a beating heart in order to linger on the plane. At times convenient, I grant you. And yet, as I crouch here before you now, I have this overwhelming desire to pin you to that tomb and suckle on your neck. Fantasies of how you struggle to fend me off in your weakened state dance merrily before my eyes. Little hauntings of how you'd scream or snarl in objection to such violation play in my ears. Is that 'nice'?"

The hands of an invisible presence lay upon Samara's shoulders from behind. No words were spoken by the specter. None were necessary. She was inescapable as the instinct to draw blood from the Occultist before her. Worse, she stoked those very flames.

"If I don't feed on someone before I slumber this day, no doubt I will kill a soul this evening. Tis the trade one makes when they become Damned." A smile spread across her lips, but there was no mirth in her eyes.

"Will you recover readily?" Jakub hadn't suggested he was in peril, but Samara hadn't performed a pact like the one he had before. Magic carried a cost; to what extent it had extracted that from him she wanted to ascertain. The roiling of darkness within her belied the depth of the price she'd paid even if her body did not so clearly wear it.

Jakub
 
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Jakub leered closer, moving inch by inch until their faces were but a few centimeters apart. The distance was negligible enough that Samara could feel his warm breath licking against her exterior features. His irises glowed, casting a small, almost conspicuous net of uncertainty over the situation. Jakub sensed the air around them growing opaque, tense even, hanging soddenly under the weight of Samara's implications. "Are you trying to threaten me or coquet? I can't quite discern which of those two actions is currently traversing the boundaries of your mind," his voice broke a little as Jakub tried bridling a wide, shit-eating grin that threatened to splinter his face horizontally. The man reached forward, wrapping his long fingers around Samara's shoulder blade, engulfing it like some anomalous cephalopod.

He was using her for support, tugging himself upwards into a more comfortable sitting position. Gods knew that the biter, rigid stone of the graveyard monument did no good to Jakub's dorsum. "I am beginning to understand the allure of vampirism. No wonder that humans seek it out the most, for we are all too mindful of our fragile mortality." A thought danced on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't outrightly perceive its context. Samara's frisky conduct made him feel no safer than if he were in the presence of a candidly appalling sanguisuge.

On the bright side, at least her appearance wasn't revolting, prompting him to take a better look at her...voluptuous figure. Samara could've used a bit of thickening around her buttocks but was otherwise quite a visual candy. "But now that I meditate on the matter, having to drink blood, avoid sunlight, and losing the ability to utilize the arcane seems distasteful. I could get over the aspect of liquidating innocent people, but being controlled by such urges would do damage to my hobbies," finished Jakub, starting to get up onto his wobbly feet, unsure of whether they'd betray him. "I'll have to feed too as it seems," cursed the man, walking as if someone had plunged a substantially large rod up his bunghole.

Samara Asenta
 
The closer the man got, the more dilated her eyes became until the ice blue was nearly a fine ring scarcely fencing in the abyss. A soft hum grew within the deep at the man's playfulness in the face of death. "Both," Samara breathed. The desire to feed on Jakub wasn't just an urge that gone from insistent to painful, but a consuming need. As the man had fought to remain upright, the Vampire fought not to lose all control of her own body and gorge herself. That Elvish pride in decorum usually provided that last straw to desperately hold onto in the black storm.

"I've never sired another." Samara replied once Jakub found his more comfortable position. One where Samara had leaned in to ensure the the man's face didn't escape too far from her presence. "An eternity to spend with one's lover. To pursue one's desires. To witness history be written, and to shape it by subtle corrections or overt act. There is no end to what you could come to know." Slowly her hand reached out to walk the tips of her fingers up his bare chest between the vest's panels. "What you could do." Slowly her hand pushed the left vest panel to reveal more of Jakub's chest. "All for the small fee of feeding off the blood of others. Is that such a great price to pay?" Samara's eyes had risen from Jakub's chest and landed upon the slope between the man's neck and shoulder.

That Jakub could leer down the tops of her own buckled and strapped outfit, between her breasts, did not ever flutter across Samara's thoughts. All the angels and demons of the world could have torn her clothes asunder leaving her naked before his lechery, and she wouldn't have noticed in that moment.

The softest moan followed as the Occultists forced himself to his feet and further from her lips. Samara, however, was not so easily deterred. Once he started to walk stiffly away, she pressed herself to his back, wrapped an arm about his midsection, and clasped the other against the front of his shoulder. "Mm. Are you going into the city for a bite?" Emphasis on bite. "Why not dine together?" Slowly her chin fell until her eyes caught sight of the man's neck once more.

Jakub
 
"Immortality can be both a bane and a boon simultaneously," piped the man, taking her hand into his own, bringing Samara's ghastly flesh closer to his face. Jakub hugged it against his cheek, forming an all-too-obvious contrast between the two. Her's was a tissue much crisper, much less lively than his, but it somehow retained the familiar softness of feminine features. He questioned just how "alive" Samara was, which portions of her body remained operative compared to those of an ordinary elf. "An eternity as a parasite seems unbecoming of a scholar like me. Change is my essence, undeath, on the other hand, leads to stagnation. Something tells me that vampirism would alter my perception of reality, and not in a good way."

Jakub cracked his neck, hearing creaky, downright irksome sonances springing from his irritated vertebrae. The spell had taken quite a toll on him, and regular food wouldn't suffice in replenishing him. Jakub needed raw magic to feed upon, to reinvigorate the natural production of his body. Finding said magic would be no easy task, Samara had none, and as of right now, he had no one to call. He spent a few seconds meditating on the matter, half distracted by Samara's well-upholstered bosom rubbing against his posterior.

"But what if I told you that there's a way to achieve eternal life without having to worry about the limitation imposed upon you by the curse of vampirism? I am sure you'd laugh. Many others would too," spoke Jakub, all the while feeling a peal of laughter building up in the pit of his belly. He restrained himself from guffawing. Jakub half expected that Samara would think him crazy if he did so. "We can discuss our dinner plans after I run a little errand in the city below, but before that," Jakub added, ostentatiously puffing before he struck one of Samara's plump ass cheeks, making it jiggle from the force of his blow. Much to his surprise, Jakub didn't expect her rear end to be that squishy. Samara looked more toned than anything else, judging by her sinewy appendages.

"Can you kindly unlatch yourself from me?" His words came as more of a question than an outright demand. "If you keep this up, I'll have to frolic about with an uncomfortably large erection."

Samara Asenta
 
"Parasite." Samara giggled before there was a soft nip at Jakub's earlobe. "Think you the boar sees your kind as a parasite? Everything feeds on something, Jakub. Mine is blood or the dark energy of the goddess -- but you can imagine how difficult it is finding someone able to channel the latter." As for the altering of his perceptions there was no comment. The fiend within was plying undo influence on the Elf's own senses in that moment with him. Samara did not tempt people or engage to convince them her condition was one to be desired. She, however, the demonic creature that sired Samara, would more than happily embrace Jakub. More to the point, to have Samara embrace him to thin the line separating them further.

When the man was silent a few seconds contemplating his meal choices, Samara occupied her time lowering her lips closer to the man's flesh. Her lips parted with pointed canines that peeked out just below her upper lip. Such a polite gentleman to not rebuff the Vampire clinging to him. So thoughtful to stand so still. The world became a haze as all her attention was focused on Jakub's neck.

"Mm, eternal life," Samara's muddled echo belied her attention being elsewhere. "Sorcerer's Stone. Grail. Becoming the eternal servant of the Dark Goddess. So many possibilities. So few worthy, but that's what drives mortals to seek them. To become one of those precious few." Slowly the Elf's lips closed as she tilted her head back to look up at the side of Jakub's face. "But they all have a price. Some are less unpleasant than others. While I did not wander the world as I do now as a mage, I know such things. Does this surprise you?" A discussion of a mystical nature helped draw out more of the Elf that had been drowning in a sea of blood.

A quick blink of the eyes resulted from the man's slap. "Careful, next time," the tip of Samara's tongue traced the outer edge of Jakub's ear, "I might just insert my fangs into your sun-kissed neck. So, do eat something delicious, won't you?"

Samara slowly extracted her arms from about Jakub's body with less grace than she'd demonstrated so far. Every movement to release the man from her entanglement, however, was a struggle against a deep hunger that didn't gnaw at her belly but her soul. "Occultist," she bid him not run off immediately, not that he'd shown any fear of her tearing him to shreds so far, "if I find you've slain or robbed those Dark God worshippers of their power I will be most cross with you." She was no mind reader, but she had slipped their existence and Jakub was being vague about this task; given his need to recover was it that far fetched to see a connection, paranoid or otherwise?

"Now go. And don't expect me to fall into your arms this evening so easily." Jakub certainly seemed to think his sexual harassment was endearing her to him. Samara had a 'moment' of weakness with the dark influences that crawled across her thoughts. If he had designs of getting closer, the man would need to woo her when not under such influences.

Once they'd part, the Elf would make for the city -- or a farm on the outskirts -- to find someone to bleed. They'd survive, though in a weakened state from their blood loss. Samara contemplated two visitations, but had to be careful. Too many strange occurrences could attract the wrong sort of attention.

Jakub
 
"Not so fast," Jakub chided in, snapping his fingers to catch Samara's attention. "I am too lazy to be looking after you later, so you'll be coming with me." The male clenched his hand, causing the tattoo upon Samara's chest to expand, compelling the female to move in the same direction as him. It had quite a bit of power over them since the two were so close together.

"There will be food for both of us. I know a guy who can provide fresh bodies for you to consume." Jakub looked in the city's direction, noting its gothic features and somewhat looming exterior.

"I'd rather not risk you getting caught and having the arcane trail traced back to me." And so he essentially puppeteered her towards it, keeping Samara a handful of meters behind himself to alleviate any suspicions. Gods knew that the local populace had a keen eye for supernatural occurrences. It was best not to draw unwanted attention. Killing the city guard wouldn't be much of a hassle, but being hounded by various monster hunters from across the continent wasn't advisable.

Soon the pair would reach city outskirts, largely undefended and left wide open for just about anyone to enter. The buildings were tall, made of solid stone, with heads decorated in the likeness of mythical beasts. Jakub noted the tightly packed, interconnected streets that formed a lengthy web of possible escape routes if things went south. He didn't know the outlines well enough to hide, but his associate did. That's why he arranged a meeting in the first place. It was only then that a realization clicked within his mind that the person in question could've been observing them the whole time. As it was, Jakub wouldn't be surprised by such a turn of events.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadowy figure coiling around the corner like a wisp of smoke, wearing a black cloak that covered most of their torso. They were tall, taller than Jakub, and nearly two heads taller than Samara. Despite his imposing size, the stranger moved with feline grace, waving in Jakub's direction as to fully captivate the occultist's capricious attention.

Jakub all but jolted upon perceiving them, stopping dead in his tracks while gesturing for Samara to do the same. It was the newcomer's turn to be surprised, craning his neck to see past Jakub, inspecting the sudden appearance of someone he didn't know.

Samara Asenta
 
"I don't need--" A sharp hiss punctuated the air as the man had the gall to conjure his magic to compel her. "You think too highly of yourself, Occultist. I will kill you if you do not release me." The Elf's dark lips parted to reveal the clenched fangs that awaited a soft neck. The wild flowers nearby looked in need of a nuroshing crimson shower. Seemed Jakub sought to find all the dark buttons to press.

"I don't care about your deep seated paranoia and cowardice. I have eluded hunter and Vampire alike. Moved among mortals as a ghost. The only time I have left evidence of my passing is when some arrogant, boastful, self-absorbed prick tried to enslave me." Despite the rising sun that suppressed her greater pallor state, Samara's icy rings had begun to glow hot-white as they stared, lidless at Jakub while she spoke.

Darkness still roiled around and within the Elf's body when Jakub signaled for them to stop short. Elf and Fiend alike were still quite irate -- even if Jakub had so thoughtfully released her -- about what had transpired. The Occultist could be sure they would find a way to ensure it didn't happen again; or if they could not that they would find ways to make Jakub's life a living hell. The monster within would like nothing more than a reason for the Elf to give in to her darker impulses.

White rings still burned with ire when the shadowy figure appeared. "Get on with it," the Elf growled.

Tag: Jakub
 
The two shook hands, exchanging some basic formalities before the taller gentleman redirected his attention towards Samara. He was tall, as pale, if not paler than her, and sporting some peculiar features. It was his yellow, cat-like eyes and ashen hair that stood out the most. He wasn't wearing an average haircut. Instead, his mane reached down to the base of his neck, where several locks dangled, brushing against the vertebrae of his back.

"You brought a friend?" wondered the stranger, his voice barely above a husky whisper. He showcased no overt animosity towards Samara. Still, her presence caught him off guard.

"Friend might be a strong term. Associate would be more appropriate," added Jakub, earning him an estranged look from the pale, towering figure. Jakub felt his hand getting snagged by the other male who inspected the eye-shaped symbol upon it. He then briefly glanced at Samara, taking note of the identical mark on her lower chest.

"I see. My name is Andrei." Andrei didn't bother to look at either of two, running his plate-sized, clawed hang over the contours of the nearby building, leaving surface-level gashes upon the mottled stone. It was impossible to deny that he was huge. His upper-body appendages were longer than the legs of some people. Yet his lax, laid-back smile betrayed no hostility. If anything, Andrei seemed happy that Jakub came to him.

"And what does the lady need?" Jakub blinked at Andrei's question, temporarily stunned by how quickly the things were moving. "Ah, yes, food, for both of us," muttered the occultist, stealing a look at now pissed off Samara.

"You are a lucky man. I caught two faes a few days ago, different types even. I presume she drinks blood? Your 'friend' that is."

Samara Asenta
 
"Unless either of you cares to bleed your souls of every ounce of dark magic power you possess," the Elf hissed. "And don't presume to know me like your 'friend' does. His presumption will likely earn him a painful and slow death."

A breathy if heavy exhalation followed. "If we're going to 'chat' could we do it somewhere away from the sun?" The growing light in the sky that crept across the world would only grow brighter as time went on. The Elf wouldn't begin to burn or burst into flames at its touch, but that did not mean it was enjoyable to have a cosmic spotlight shining in her eyes. Mortals strained to see in the dark; Samara strained to see in the daylight as everything steadily became washed out while tiny daggers shot through her brain.

"What fae did you capture? And why?" Samara finally turned to regard the towering masculine presence as a person rather than a source of annoyance. Hopefully they didn't mean the shorter-stature or those lacking blood kind of fae. Andrei already recognized she'd like their blood; perhaps one of these 'kinds' would be nourishing to her.

Was she rude no introducing herself? Andrei could thank Jakub for putting her in a most foul mood. Captivity was the surest way to enraging the Elven Vampire. It was demeaning. Neither Elf nor Fiend found that acceptable. Not to mention Samara's personal encounter being held prisoner for a month at the hands of a foul monster that sought to break her soul.

Jakub
 
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