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(Location: The Docks --- London, England) Valerie spent much of her time avoiding the ‘patriarch’ of their little ‘family’ as she despised him and with good reason considering what he took from her. If it hadn’t been for Julian she would have had a family of her own, but the night she was to runaway to be with Stefan Salvatore he’d caught her. While preventing her from going to the man she loved was cruel indeed not so much as beating her until she suffered a miscarriage. Shortly thereafter Lily had given her some of her blood to heal the wounds, however, later that evening she’d attempted to take her own life something which lead to her status as a Heretic. Those memories would without a doubt haunt her for all eternity. The chance at having a family with the one she loved had been so close she could practically taste it. But that happiness was not to be, having a child was no longer possible as a vampire and she couldn’t face Stefan after what happened. While the pain still felt fresh at times it had been thirty-four years since the departure of her ‘family’ from Mystic Falls. During those times when thoughts of the past and a strong desire to drive a stake through the monster’s heart plagued her she often wandered down near the docks (a place where her ‘family’ rarely went). The vampire paused outside one of the warehouses there was something within those walls that had been involved with powerful magic. Cautiously looking around to ensure no one was watching then moving closer reaching she tried the door but found it locked. She gave a frustrated sigh, turning as if to go, though curiosity wouldn’t allow her to leave the premises without investigating further. Facing the door once more she placed a hand on the doorknob using the advantage of vampiric strength to break its lock. She looked around once more as a precaution before venturing inside. After a moment of slight hesitation her feet began moving once more as she began walking through the rows of wooden crates searching for the source of the magic. Although it took a while she managed to find a large wooden crate whose contents had to be what she sensed from outside. With a little applied force it was successfully opened without causing too much damage, looking inside she found an old sarcophagus. Lightly biting her lip considering whether to let this go or take a peek inside. Could she really walk away without knowing what was inside? If she did it she would be able to think of nothing else. She reached out with both hands opening the sarcophagus with more care than she’d taken with the crate which held it. Her eyes widening a bit at its contents as what she found was a woman who was desiccated to the point of appearing to be made of stone. Who could possibly have been so cruel as to force that existence on another? Since there was no one else she chose to use her own blood. Gently pressing her wrist against the woman’s lips after having opened a vein, repeating the process as needed each time the wound healed until she began stirring. She could feel her own need to feed growing after the amount of blood used to revive the mystery woman. Taking a step back to allow both of them to gather their bearings before questions were asked.

Natari allowed the drunk's body to slide down the wall to crumple on the cobblestones. He'd appear to be sleeping it off in the dark alley to any casual observer, and by the time he was discovered dead in the morning, she'd be sleeping it off. She'd gotten rather tipsy from his blood, but with more than 2 vampires in a city, one had to be careful not to kill anyone who may be missed. No one gave a damn about back alley drunks including her...well except for the meal they could give and the drunk would wear off soon enough. Her steps were already even as she left the alley for the busy streets again. She did gain a few odd looks for the 18th century garb she preferred, the billowing low cut green velvet Italian dress made her feel...most like herself, though, and she'd never given a damn about what other people thought. As she walked, idly uncertain what she wished to do with the rest of her evening, she paused to glance in the windows of shops and other buildings, most of which were closed. She'd not been to London in quite some time, perhaps 15 years? And it was interesting to see what had changed. As always it was some for the better and some for the worst. The friends she'd come here to meet were being delayed...perhaps unable to show up at all, so she was uncertain as to how much time she would spend here either. She supposed it would have to depend on if anything intriguing came up. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Valerie followed the ‘young’ woman’s gaze though found a response pointless given the question asked was answered moments later. Inclining her head slightly as she looked back to her. “Let’s see about getting you out of this place, shall we?” She had her suspicions the imprisonment could have been warranted somehow though choose to believe otherwise. If she were right, then whoever was responsible for her captivity might return and prove a tad more formidable than she cared to deal with at the moment. The vampire rose to her feet slowly extending a hand to help the brunette onto her own. Amara looked a bit warily to the hand hovering before her for several moments until she finally accepted the help pulling herself up onto her feet. “Where will we go?” Her tone easily reflecting her level of anxiety in that particular moment as she tried desperately to block out the spirits who had begun talking all at once making it impossible to make out what each was saying. “Honestly? I haven’t the slightest idea but…we cannot stay here.” Valerie cast a glancing look about the warehouse then back to the anxious brunette. “Whoever it was that trapped you inside of that sarcophagus might return and do so again.” Her warning not one given with the intent of causing panic and while she hoped that would not be the case the Heretic was prepared to handle it if things took that particular turn. “I…” Amara began remembering bits and pieces about The Travelers though not enough to offer up any information at this point. Though the words spoken were quite disconcerting she had no response only the troubled look on her face. “We can talk about whatever it is once we have gotten you somewhere safe.” Valerie reassured as she began leading the former handmaiden towards the exit knowing there might be too much risk involved in bringing her back to where her ‘family’was residing while here in London. Mostly because of a complete lack of trust and intense loathing when it came to Julian who destroyed her one chance at starting a family of her own with Stefan Salvatore. Once outside she reached reassuringly taking the hand of the strangely dressed young woman who had begun looking a bit overwhelmed upon getting her first glimpse of the outside world. A thing which had her wondering precisely how long she’d been desiccated. “This way.” Gently tugging her along as the two moved away from the docks headed into town. (ooc: Figured that I’d finally get those two out and about.)

Natari was glad Oliver mainly avoided people including his friends, for if she'd spent any amount of time around him he'd likely have noticed there was something wrong. Wrong? Well she supposed there was. Wrong. Yes. That wasn't exactly the word, but it would have to do. Uncertain of how she wanted to deal with this new and unexpected situation, the vampire had eventually attempted to distract herself with the music and dancing but after a while she slipped out into the night to walk...and she had nearly until sunrise. When she returned to Olivers on the outskirts of London, the vampire was apparently already nested down for the evening for he wasn't about. She retired with a book to her own room. A book she was hardly able to focus on and found herself grateful for sunrise. When evening fell she took her time bathing, arranging her hair with the new stilling cream that did nicely to tame her curls, and she found the new skin cream pleasant as well. The light scent was somehow calming as was the preparation process. Busy mindless work could at times be calming. Why didn't she just tell Oliver where the hunter was and be done with it? Because he was the first genuinely interesting person she'd met in some time, that was why. She sighed, and slipped out the door of Oliver's rambling manor and out into the night. Hunting didn't take long and then she shifted into her bat form and winged through the city, high above the watching eyes of any mortals into star gazing. Once she'd reached the address on the doctor's card, she landed behind the house, shifted forms, then walked casually around to the front door and used the knocker. Unwise some may say, but she was relatively confident in her ability to escape the man. She did not wish to fight him, of course, as there, she wasn't as assured in her skills having never engaged in battle. In some cases instinct would take over, but one would have to be all worked up and ready to fight, and she had no such situation going on. So...she would speak with him and if he came after her with weapons or medicines or anything else, she'd simply depart faster than his mortal eyes could track. While the idea of him coming after her with medicines was amusing, she couldn't help but wonder if something he'd come up with along those lines would adversely effect a vampire. Interesting...in a disturbing sort of way. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

London was, Vlad Dracula thought a most interesting place to be certain. More to the point there were numerous advancements in medicine he fully intended to bring back here as well. Sipping from a small glass of visanta the lord of Eastern Europe’s vampires exhaled once as he continued to study the numerous papers brought to him by a solicitor whose departure would be soon enough. Fortunate then that his bride and their numerous children all had assisted in ensuring Mr. Jonathan Harker had adequate accommodations. Of all of them, three had stood out. Nadia, Andre and Isabella. Dracula felt pride in all of his and Katerina’s progeny. Each of them were gifted with cunning, intellect and devotion to their family. A true blessing for him having a wife as wonderful as her and sons and daughters. It was why he had decided on England to become a summer home for he and his family. With the blessing of Lady Teja’ari who ruled the western portions of Europe and with little in the way of concerns to draw his attention Vlad wanted to surprise his beloved and the children born to the two of them. The countless legal forms or Harker’s continued desire to peruse the law list did however tend to grate on one’s nerves. To say nothing of the man’s unwarranted suspicions. The Count would be pleased when the imbecile was gone, for now he would play host and continue to display the love and pleasure his family gave to him. As he signed the final parchment the vampire stared at the mortal the temptation to devour every drop of blood quite strong. He refrained however. Business before any enjoyment no matter how small or justified when the solicitor handed him yet another seemingly increasing amount of papers to sign while smoking one of those foul cigarettes. Would any judicator in this world or the supernatural convict him Dracula wondered when the man carelessly dropped a match onto the floor. Guest or not there were limits to one’s patience. Savoring the fine glass of visanta did not help as much. Thus he was relieved when things were truly finalized and he inclined his head in a short bow to the barrister before rereading the documents. The purchase of Carfax Abbey and its surrounding grounds was only a small part in the gift he intended to give to Katerina and their growing family. Transferring a quarter of the considerable fortune garnered over centuries for use overseas had been another such thing. He and his family would not go as paupers, they were nobility and would be given such deference. To say nothing of the investments he intended to become involved in, the most fruitful ones imaginable but these were secondary. Vlad hoped that when he surprised Katerina, Nadia, Isabella, Andrei, Mircea, Valentina, Grigore, Alina, Narcisa and Vasile it would be an occasion of great joy for them to see more of the world. Placing his signant ring upon the wax for each envelope Vlad Dracula formerly the voivode and prince of Wallachia now a Count and a Lord among Vampires nodded once to Solicitor Harker. Among things taken were to be countless boxes of dirt, coffins so he and his family could rest easily. Already the gypsies would be well on their way to begin preparations. Saying nothing else he stared at the man despite his loathing and removed a single pouch containing golden coin, payment for the mortal’s service. “Thank you Mr. Harker.” He began eager to truly be rid of the pretentious human. OOC short and if we get a Harker not sure who will play him so just temping sorta for right now

She had never been so furious in all her life! What right did he have? Natari yanked her arms uselessly, but she had to do something. She had to try. Not to just stay here like some bloody butterfly pinned to a wall. At least no one was there to hear the flood of Italian curses that left her lips. She di'dnt usually curse. It wasn't lady like, but right now sadly, infuriatingly, there was nothing else to do! Oliver had been...angry, annoyed, upset, it was difficult to tell with him, that she had spoken to Van Helsing...very well that she'd actually gone into his home. The infamous hunter's home! This displeased Oliver for several reasons. One being that other vampires may try to use this, thus use her against her will. Another the obvious, that she had put herself in the hunter's hands, a point on which she strongly disagreed. She had professed to being the stronger of the 2, and thus able to take care of herself. Helsing tended to find vampires when they slept and kill them, and she didn't plan to encounter him unless she was very much awake. Oliver was still displeased. He showed this displeasure along with his disbelief in her skills to protect herself by chaining her to the wall of his basement. Her legs and arms were splayed, she felt tangled in the folds of her own heavy velvet dress, and she could not move. He challenged her to free herself and prove that she could handle herself when it came to Helsing. She yanked at the chains again with all her strength, then cursed in frustration when nothing happened. As if Helsing would ever be able to chain her to a bloody wall! Natari glared at the chains then movements more calm and deliberate she carefully twisted her wrists, trying to break the chains by twisting them around their own anchor in the wall as pulling them had not worked. Breaking was different than trying to uproot them from the wall, she thought. But still no go. She could sense that she was alone in the house. Oliver was gone somewhere...Gritting her teeth again she glared down at the chains...Her mind wandering to the room itself in which she was currently harbored against her will. It smelled...faintly of blood. Human blood and sweat. Did Oliver chain people here? She sighed and continued to study the chains. Attempting to twist her wrists free, to slip them out of the shackles hadn't worked any better than her attempts to pull them out of the wall. He'd spoken of these chains being iron...that she was lucky he hadn't felt like using silver...and he'd said that though iron did not hurt, it would still keep her from misting. Anger rising again she tugged and yanked frustration rising. She knew she likely wasn't thinking well, but could not calm herself enough to do so. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Katerina found it difficult to express what was going through her mind or even to put a finger on the reason for feeling as if she were drowning. These were thoughts and emotions that made little to no sense given her life had not been one of misery. Yet here she was. Struggling just to ‘keep her head above water’ all the while keeping it a secret from those she loved. It was no easy feat either as the connection between her and Vlad often made them like ‘open books’ to one another. She walked among the humans milling about on the streets having slipped away for a little time alone in the hope of getting some perspective or maybe just to drop all the pretenses. Since she was eighteen years old her role had been that of ‘wife and mother’, a thing that hadn’t made her unhappy in itself but somewhere along the way it felt as if who she was had gotten buried. After four centuries she wasn’t even certain she remember who that was anymore. It pained her to think of the hurt it would cause Vlad and their children if she even attempted to discuss any of it. Perhaps the matter should be discussed with an outsider, a thing the vampire wouldn’t have given even a moments consideration were not her problem alone. (tag: any) (OOC: Bit of a time jump so that I can get her and Nadia involved in the game. The other thread with Vlad will be a flashback one since not sure when or if our Dracula player will get involved.)

It had taken her several maddening hours to break free of the chains, and when she finally figured out the trick, she wished she hadn't because it really hurt. She was covered in burns, her neck, her waist, her wrists and ankles spreading to her arms and legs. Moving hurt and thinking even hurt that was until thought of Oliver enraged her enough to get herself moving. She could not throttle Oliver senseless in the state she was in. And there was no one currently in town who could help...except for perhaps...one...Dare she approach him in such a weakened state? Normally she would not have done but currently rage fueled her need to recover. It was a good thing she needed to fly as shifting more than 2 times in the condition she was in would've likely been impossible. It really hurt not to mention draining her of the little energy she had. It was easier to take it in stages...mental and physical steps from point a to b and c and so on. Flying through the night, mind blanking out the pain with minimal success and focusing on her rage when this failed. Reaching her destination...then the window...then transforming, then one hand clutching at the window ledge while the other tapped on the glass, once and again. It was several hours sense Natari had left Helsing's residence. Plenty of time for the good doctor to have found his bed. Perhaps 2 Am or 3 when there came a tapping upon his bedroom window. She clung with her other hand to the ledge, formerly fine clothes torn, skin seared and torn on neck, waste, arms, legs, and her youthful face now a mask of pain and concentration as she waited. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Blood, dear Lord . . . so much blood! It had soaked almost halfway through the sheets! And the man, his patient, William Peston, was half-crying, half-snarling . . . spasming in the middle, though still partially covered. And Doctor Van Helsing honestly didn’t know if the man was dying, or transforming fully into . . . what had attacked him however many nights ago it now was. He’d of course seen past cases of werewolf attacks, but . . . good God, nothing like this! What had happened?! He was sucking in deep breaths of air now as he backed away, half his tunic soaked in the dark wet crimson of his patient. He’d tried to be civil, tried to subdue, had been taken by surprise. He had not wanted to record this occurrence as a failure in any sense of the word, and his notes taken so far had been of great promise and positive thoughts. Alas, no longer. It couldn't have been any of his medicinals or . . . or . . . no! This abrupt turn had to be something to do with the mysterious aggressor. The good doctor backed away, trying for slow and steady and confident all at once, but his arms and now hands were shaking . . . but as he gazed down at what had been Mr. Peston, what this creature had been or now was, Van Helsing realized what he had to do. Initially he wanted to chastise himself for not entering the guest room unprepared, but why would he in this case?! The man had been . . . had been stable only an hour before, when the woman of the night had visited him yet again under even odder circumstances than the first time. The half-alive, or half-dead, form bleeding on the bed was attempting to move . . . he really didn’t know which and . . . dear Lord, he needed to get away this instant without protection. He felt the door against his back before he knew he’d reached it and yanked it open and closed it, praying he’d be more swift than the occupant within. Van Helsing raced for his study where he kept the modest stock of firearms, all loaded in their cases and cabinets for such a variety of reasons, this emergency being one of them, all the while his mind raced. He’d just secured a pistol of flintlock loaded with gunpowder into his belt and now held one in his hand, and was halfway back down the corridor when he noticed movement ascending the stairs. Tomas, his manservant! But the man could not . . . he was shaking his head before he even spoke. “Sir, you have a visitor calling on you. The same woman from before, if you can . . .,” both men froze, when they gazed at each other, Tomas gaping as he looked at his employer with the blood-stains and the pistol, Helsing at his manservant when the wording hit him like a smack. “Woman? Who . . . oh!,” but the doctor didn’t wait, only waving Tomas away frantically. Van Helsing looked down, yelling. “Dear Lady! Stay put, it’s not safe . . . wait, no, nevermind! Come quick! It’s my patient! He’s . . .” he trailed off, not knowing how to say it because he didn’t know just what he’d seen. "What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow."

Dracula had been not pleased to say the least both with being kept waiting and then with the request given. A part of him did not have the heart to refuse his mentor and friend she who had ensured his own survival when it would have been an easy enough matter to allow Keui-Jiin and Samdei to kill him for ‘violating’ the rules as had been claimed when his fangs had torn into Alastair’s throat. Back then before Katerina, and their children he had been much cooler in regards to humanity. Debts were always repaid that was the knight and prince in him speaking. And whether his beloved understood it well enough Lady Teja’ari’s requests were in his view to be considered immediately. Had it not been for her Katerina and he would not have ever met. Lastly his own family did matter and the missive sent to him had suggested issues with the Egyptian, of a sort which could not wait. He well remembered the first encounter with Imhotep Set’s chosen servant and the one who held much of Northern Africa under his sway. The meeting between himself had not gone well. Not when the eldest of Caine and Lilith’s children had informed him of a book bound in leather made from the flesh of an innocent man, with clasps made of metal forged in hellfire. It was a tome not even his cursed sire had ever been able to get his hands on. But somehow it had turned up in London and been stolen a dagger used to kill the previous owner. He did not relish the very idea that the Egyptian sought it. What chilled him next however had been learning that Katerina’s very blood could be used to open the gateway returning the god of chaos to the world of mortals. He had delayed too long in attempting to gain enough support for his eldest friend, who still sought more information in regards to how such could be brought about and left weeks after his arrival intent first on finding Nadia and the woman he had given his heart too. OOC meh short sorry, was rushed oi can someone save me from ups? Will add more to this, just to show not dead and am coming back full time or going to try to be

The youthful looking vampire disembarked the ship, gratefully stepping onto the London dock amidst the busy bustle of merchants, sailors, and the crates and cartons being unloaded. Such a busy busy place, all of it insignificant to him. The excessive activity along with the noise that accompanied it only served as background to his own thoughts. He'd come here seeking a 2nd chance for his life long goal. Klaus had survived many disappointments, but discovering that the Patrova Doppleganger was a fucking vampire had not been an easy one to swallow. When one of his many spies informed him of a sighting in the middle of nowhere, I.E bloody Transilvania, he'd been overjoyed! At long last he'd have that which he'd waited for for so long. But instead he'd found her to be useless entirely and out of his reach. At least for the moment. Klaus never gave up and that was why he always won. Because others did. They gave up while he persisted and this time would be no different. He'd not even allowed her to see him. Not her nor the man with whom she'd set up such a sickeningly cozy house. It was a pity he'd had to kill the wolf he'd befriended to gain the information he'd considered necessary, but he couldn't risk it bringing tidings of a strange Alfa, as it were, sniffing around and asking oh so innocent and friendly questions. He'd burned the body out in the middle of no where far from the ridiculous castle of Katherine...Patrova. For she would always be a Patrova to him. That thought caused a grim smile to curve his lips that did not reach his hard eyes. Mind turning back to the fact he always won, his smile became one of satisfaction as he scanned the baggage being unloaded until he spotted his ebony wood trunk with the brass handles sporting snarling wolf heads with ruby eyes. Moving quickly forward he snatched up the trunk and without another look turned his back on the dock, moving deeper into the city at a speed that would be impossible for the mortal eye to track. It was time to to something he'd never done before in his long long life. It was time to go to see a doctor! I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Amara felt uncertain about where they were headed, a part of her even wished she could dissuade her companions from seeking out the man known as Van Helsing. But the odds were stacked against this happening of that she was fairly certain as their gentleman escort appeared confident he could handle anything this 'doctor' might attempt. The very idea of which gave her pause as it was the source of some concern. ----- "It is indeed a strange thing...to seek out one who hunts without violence in mind. I doubt I would ever come to such point with the Huntress." Valerie heard whispers every so often that hinted at it being quite personal...and if even half the rumors were true about what took place between the bastard otherwise known as Julian and Rayna Cruz. ----- Amara fleetingly looked between her two companions as if questioning whether they were indeed certain about seeing this through. It would have eased her mind a little had she seen anything on either of their faces that revealed even a hint of hesitation though no such indication was given so with great reluctance she followed the directions given by the spirit who led them straight to the doorstep of one Abraham Van Helsing. She stood silently staring at the building then ignoring the pit in her stomach the former handmaiden turned to Klaus. "This is his home." Brown eyes darting to the other woman as she shifted the two boxes in her arms knowing better than to ask them to abandon whatever it was the pair had in mind.

OOC, Giving Victor and Hyde something to respond to as Victor's player requested. Forwarding this to her and she should be joining. This is the character Oliver was watching in my last post. I sent her profile and won't say anything concrete about her in this post in case anything needs to be changed. IC Her heart was pounding and she was breathing far too rapidly. She never panicked. Steady did it always but this...this here was something else. If not for all the vivid detail, none of which her imagination could've ever dredged up, the small slight young woman would've thought she was dreaming. She studied the tall muscular middle aged man from across the room. He wanted to be here in this tavern but radiated unease for all that as well. Someone respectable that didn't wish to be seen here...This place didn't seem particularly unrespectable. It was no slum. Seemed nice enough, though she supposed she knew little of these standards to properly judge. He had seen her and even studied her, but he obviously didn't know her...This was going to make things difficult if interesting. Slowly she began to thread her way across the room to approach him. Even knowing that she had to present herself in her very best light to him at this moment, her small hands clutched the fabric of the cloak more tightly around her. She shrank into it, hiding... Hiding! She was hiding, as stupid as that was even as she slowly inched her way toward him. This was stupid she knew...but nonetheless her panic was rising to the point he was growing light headed.What would happen if she passed out? She'd never passed out in her life, she thought, horror gripping her. "Excuse me," she murmured, shrinking even further into her cloak as she nearly ran into a tall rather thin young man in what appeared to be a doctor's coat. Her crow black eyes only passed him over briefly, however, before they returned to the handsome muscular man whom she still continued toward if at a snail's pace. "Such small fleeting lives,"Oliver noted dryly. "I suppose mine should have been one of them," he found himself confessing openly to Nadia without taking his eyes from the tiny cloaked and hooded figure and the tall man whom she approached. "Some stupid doctor believing himself merciful thought it a good idea to allow me to survive the black plague after it killed my entire family..." He turned to Nadia abruptly, the movement seeming nearly harsh in its suddenness. Though the mortals had prompted his story, he had seemingly forgotten them now as he studied her intently. "And you? Do you feel you should have been one of them by rights? Do you have a story?" His gaze was doubtful even if his tone held a flat challenge. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Nadia struggled with the fact generally speaking her father was a rather observant man, and yet, somehow all of those subtle indications that things weren’t quite right slipped through the proverbial cracks unnoticed. It was so very frustrating. He was so preoccupied these days. If not with one of her siblings than with something connected to the other vampire lords. Her mother, Katerina Dracula, was off somewhere alone undoubtedly sifting through whatever thoughts were weighing so heavily on her mind. Would she take off? Would her father even notice or care if she did? Shaking her head once trying to clear all those thoughts and the emotions which came with them. Right now, she needed to find out if there was anything that could be done to fix things for her mother. Carefully (or perhaps not so carefully) considering her options as she was rather unwilling to lose the one family member she felt closest to. Being rash would most certainly make matters worse of that she could be certain. Drawing her shawl up around her shoulders as if warding off a sudden chill as the brunette passed a small pub.

OOC was between that title and the baddest mf-er in the city. LOL. IC Releasing his grip on the minds of those on the small ship from which he had sailed from Africa, Mercia Dracul strolled onto the dock. Back ramrod straight, and head high as he scented the salt air mixed with rancid city smells, his black cloak snapped in the wind as his hair shifted against his cheek. What anyone saw in this place was beyond him. Not to mention the danger of at least 2 hunters wishing to frequent the place among other things, he failed to understand what drew his parents and elder sister here. So he had come to find out. In part out of concern, in part out of a morbid curiosity and in part to compete a little if there happened to be anything here he wanted. He had just completed a few lucrative deals with some African shamans and voodoo priests. He relished and reveled in their dark power and most important of all they were his. Nothing to do with his father or his other siblings, but completely loyal to him. A thing he would not share and as such he found himself already missing the place. The wilds of Africa felt so much more pure than dirty foggy London. As he moved from the harbor into town, his right hand strayed idly to caress the hilt of the sword hanging at his side. Mercia did not truly require a sword, but he enjoyed the gleam of blood on a steel blade and likewise the sport of toying with his prey. Killing with a sword, at times relinquishing at least some of his superior power for raw skill coupled with vampiric speed was perhaps his equivalent to a cat toying with a mouse or bird before striking. That and it kept him fit and entertained. For tonight he would take a room in one of the nicer and more private inns rather than seeking out the new family home. It would give him the opportunity to take stock in private. In that he would be more likely to discover the things, if any, the particular members of his family may be wishing to hide. Such facts were always far more intriguing than those they were willing to share. So a night in a good inn and perhaps a dance hall for some amusement and dinner...and more if the girl was pretty and captivating enough. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Fedora sat across from Captain Dance and calmly moved a white chess piece on the board as she frowned at her lover. The gesture was calm, as if there was no angrily roaring vampire being dragged across the floor. The silver chains being used to restrain him clanked almost musically with the movement. Neither of the players seated at the small square wooden table even looked, both confident in the ability of the witches to handle the vampire that normally could've torn the throats from anyone who even attempted laying hands on him. "You know I hate playing white,"Fedora grumbled, scowling at her move as Dance made his without even taking time to think. He smiled kindly at her. "And that, my darling, is why I insist that you do it at least some of the time," he told her dryly. Nearly as one, both turned to face the vampire once he had been placed in the center of the floor. "Well aren't you a prize,"Fedora drawled. "An ugly one at that, but still..." Dance's face drew into a brief scowl. Why did Fedora need her prizes to be pretty, he wondered peevishly. Unaware of his expression, Fedora turned back to the table, but this time she disregarded the chess board, instead her gaze moving to the photographs laid out beside it. Dance followed his lover's gaze to the young lady, a finger coming out to touch the girl's cheek, nearly as though she could feel it from the photograph itself. "She will be safe," Dance told her soothingly. "And once she has had time to think on matters she shall realize as much." Both regarded Rena silently for a moment before Dance snatched up the 2nd photo and tossed it at the vampire. The image was of Renfield, the small man captured in mid stride on a London street, completely unaware that he had been photoed. "You will seek out this man and take him under your wing," Dance told the vampire. "He has seen me and I can't have him continuing to focus on that unfortunate fact. Keep him too busy to do so." The vampire glared daggers, obviously quite unaccustomed to taking orders but Dance merely continued calmly, obviously accustom to giving orders and to being obeyed. "Set aside your plans for Dracula long enough to do that or I assure you, good sir, you shall not live nearly long enough to complete them." The vampire hissed and spat curses in Greek that Dance ignored save for a small frown while he silently translated. His unsettling gaze then moved to the witches, giving them a benevolent smile. "And now another task for you that I quite think you shall enjoy... IT involves the 9. A little math where they are reduced...drastically." "To 0," Fedora said with a titter. When the redhead laughed, the expression very rarely touched her hard cold eyes. OOC< Sham usually writes Dance, so if they are needed again and such that'll be his. I"ll email you their info off list they're canon. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

OOC, if you want to include Nadia's reply to Oliver before Mercia comes over, cool and I"ll work Oliver's response into the convo with Mercia. IC The door to the Black Bess swung open and Mercia Dracul swept in heading right to the table where his sister sat without even sparing a glance for the rest of the room. He didn't know the overly thin man with whom she sat, but he wasn't pretty enough to be a bedmate for her so he wasn't overly curious. Perhaps he had been once, but illness had ravaged him before vampirism had, a thing he had seen more than once. On the women it seemed particularly unkind. To leave a beauty a mere husk for eternity. Men could work with it, not minding for their appearance as much, though Mercia doubted the man got laid much. The ironic thought caused him to give said man an amused smirk in greeting as he stopped at Nadia's chair. "Ah sister Dearest," he said, bending in a graceful nearly bat like swoop to kiss her cheek. "You smell delightful as usual," he said with a wink. "Is it your perfume or mothers?" The quip was a teasing reminder of Nadia's playing dress up in her mother's clothing, and cosmetics as a very small child. Mercia had attempted the same with his father's weapons wanting to keep up and it hadn't always worked out so well, considering that time he'd accidentally stabbed a servant. In the remote area they called home, servants hadn't been so easy to replace, so he had gotten himself into a bit of trouble for that death to say the least. "May I sit down," he asked, including the man in his inquiring glance, though in truth he didn't care if the bloke wanted him there or not. He was beneath Mercia's s notice save for a vague curiosity as his sister apparently found him worth addressing for one reason or other. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

His heart had not been filled with such rage sense the 1400s! Sariel had NEVER been subdued by anyone much less humans! Mere humans with...something. They had strange gadgets and they were too fast and too knowledgeable. They had covered him in silver chains after somehow discovering his resting place. THEN they had dragged him by them literally. DRAGGED HIM! The vampire wiped his mouth as he left the headquarters of The Grey Cardinals and attempted to straighten his garments to cover the burns in his wrists and ankles. Those on his waist and upper thighs as well as on his chest were not visible but smarted and burned all the same. They appeared to be taking their time to heal too. Cursing and growling under his breath in several languages he headed out into the busy eara of downtown London seeking the little man whom the man and woman holding him in chains demanded he take in hand. A servant?! He needed no servant, and trusted no one in his personal affairs. Besides humans were weak and frail things. He preferred magical servants or those weaker vampires who feared what he could and would do to them if angered. This lot had given him no choice, however, and they hinted that he may have his revenge on the Tepes house if he played along so for now, until he discovered the perfect opportunity to tear out their throats and sup gleefully on their blood for what they had done to him, he would play along if reluctantly. When he reached the man's house he pounded on the door angrily, knowing that he would likely be invited in out of shock so he'd not have to bother playing nice. This was a good thing as he currently lacked the self control for it. He had to pound for half a minute too long in his opinion, before the little man appeared, peering out of the door sleepily, short white blonde hair disheveled. The black eyes that regarded Sariel were sleepy yet alert. "Yes? What ever do you want at this hour?" "From what I'm told it's more a matter of what you want," Sariel replied in a near growl. "Life, isn't it? Now let me in if you'd like to discuss the matter further." And it was as simple as that...As simple as giving candy to a baby. The door opened and Sariel was invited in. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Rena couldn't help but stare around as they headed upstairs. Pool had assumed they wanted the tea in the bedroom, not a bad thing in itself, but being in there and controlling herself while the damned tea was readied would be another matter entirely. Though he did look very different pre-potion, he was still damn hot. Of course she'd not have noticed before making her decision to experience fleshly pleasures, but it had been the same in her time when he was...post potion as well. It wasn't personal, she merely never thought that way. The place was nice...real Victorian, which for an entire house she'd never gotten to see in her day. And all the replicas were bullshit she noted. For an instant she was nearly breathless, fully able to appreciate the opportunity she'd been given by most likely an enemy to experience such a thing. To be in the past and to see it, to see it as though it were modern and new rather than in some museum, because right now it was. Fleetingly she considered pinching herself again but she knew she was awake as impossible as this all seems. "So...should we do the talking and explaining bit now while there is nothing else to do," she wondered, stiffening as dread washed over her again settling like a heavy ball in the pit of her stomach, making her feet heavy. "Of course if you had other topics of conversation in mind I'm open," she told Henry with a quick sidelong smile. "I mean if we've had too much to drink or whatever...surely we have, I am good." And babbling too which wasn't like her. Rena firmly shut her mouth before more stupidity could image and tightened her grip on Henry, feeling once again grateful to be here with him for things could've gone far worse. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.

Leti hadn't slept a wink and she waited as late as she could, just past daylight before finally breaking and walking through the city to the doctor's home. She felt dreadful doing so in spite of her terror. He had just given her his address, and for a party at that, and here she came bothering him...but she didn't know what else to do. Her feet dragged, because she knew she was likely to walk herself right out of that party invite she'd so looked forward to, but there was nothing for it. Perhaps she should've told her brother of the trouble she was having, but that just didn't feel right. She fussed with the ends of her auburn hair as she slowly approached the ground home, a pit growing in her stomach. The doctor and his lady had been all smiles and friendly words the night before but would they be so friendly in the morning light, especially so early. There was simply nothing to do but to get it done with she told herself firmly and lifted the heavy brass knocker letting it fall several times. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. I get along with the voices inside of my head.