开云体育

(Kutsuki)

Kutsuki was running around his room, cackling like a madman to himself.? He has been preparing for this moment for so long that he almost didn't even know what to do with himself.? Years upon years was spent pouring through all sorts of dark tomes, myriads of dusty old demonic scrolls and back bent over the computer screen, researching the literal digital hell that was the interweb.? Months and months and months of waiting, planning, staking out, syncing up everyone's schedules, playing the good ole child routine - all of it was driving him nuts!? But no longer...the wait would have been so worth it.? All the failures and the mistakes, all the minute adjustments that he's had to make...all the candles had to be precisely and methodically placed, the wax meticulously etched with the spells of protection so as to create a barrier.? Ingredients of the more exotic variety had to be procured, raiding almost every single occult shop, witches' dens, various voodoo shops of which there were many in the French Quarter of New Orleans, and many more.? Eye of newt, still-beating heart of a goat, dead man's hangnails - these were the most common of the available assortment.? A swatch of hair from a twice old maid, the ring finger of the thrice scorned bride, with the ring still attached...that last one made him giggle with barely contained glee.? These were nigh difficult to get ahold of since they all required precise and impeccable timing.? However, one could find almost anything they wanted in Rancoteur if they just knew where to look, or threatened to burn down a place or two, and actually followed through with it.

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All the furniture has been off to the sides, the bed stood up on its edge against the wall.? Bookcases, shelves, anything with a solid surface was arranged in such a way as to make a half circle, like the crescent moon.? All the books, every single page was in some way, shape or form dedicated to the occult.? Kutsuki has leafed through all of them at least three or four times in his periods of fixated obsession.? Today was no different, no...? Today WAS going to be different.? He slid to a halt in front of his bedroom mirror, the "Den of No Return" he called it, taking a moment to compose himself.? His hair, as white as a freshly fallen snow, sat disheveled upon his face, using his left hand to push it out of his face, but yet falling right back, hiding the right side of his face.? He raised his chin, a flippant sort of look on his face as he pushed the squarish glasses back up with a middle finger.? His eyes narrowed as they fell upon the book that sat half opened at his bedside table.? Reaching for it, he flipped it fully open, his fingers landing on the pages that described the sort of garb a demonic summoner would wear, but who cared for that?? He looked back at the mirror, twirling about as his reflection mimicked his movements.

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"<Do demons really care what you wear on the day of their summoning?>" he asked himself in Japanese, idly tilting the hand that held the book off to the side.? Kutsuki turned this way and that, examining his garb.? He wore what he always wore inside the house, a a black pair of under armor tights and long sleeved shirt, coupled with that indigo colored, 3/4 sleeved sweater that was too sizes too large on him, one side always sliding off of one of his shoulders.? It was worn almost like a tunic, pooling around his thighs like a skirt.? No shoes.? Absolutely none.? He preferred being barefoot inside his home, one habit that he would never ever change about himself.? Fingers and toes always applied with black nail polish, that was a must.? "A comfy, goth look," his unwanted circle cult of followers labelled, that insufferable gaggle of chickens that followed at his every step, always at a distance, making his skin crawl with just their presence alone.? Just like the chicken that laid across the silver tray with its neck cut wide open, oozing blood out of its gullet, pooling around an expertly drawn pentagram, its various circles inlaid with long forgotten Latin, inscription that called upon the deepest, darkest depth.? Smirking at its reflection, Kutsuki haphazardly tossed the book aside, shrugging his wide shoulders.? "<The fuck is he gonna care?? He's dead when he gets here anyhow.>"

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Whirling around to face the demonic circle, Kutsuki picked up another one, this one leather bound in in black and red.? The words that revealed the contents of the book were filigreed with gold, a sort of way too fanciful font for a demon summoning book.? And yet, it described its inhabitant to a T, a demon unlike the most of his kind, the ones that his "original" parents wanted to summon, with him as its sacrifice.? The type of demon who employed madness through the bountiful harvest of wealth that it bestowed upon its master, and he used that word loosely, because in the end, who was the master of whom?? Certainly not their summoner.? It was that very demon that Kutsuki was wanting to bring forth, to let that asshole taste the air of Earth again, and then rip him apart in a most magnificent way, to pay him back for having rejected his vessel so long ago.? Oh, today was going to be a day of reckoning, but not for Kutsuki, but rather for his unwilling demonic slave.? His mouth twisted into the most sadistic smile, lips letting loose a psychotic, clownish sort of laugh as he titled his head back, eventually stopping until only the quietest hiccup could be heard and then none after.? Looking back at the circle, he briefly glanced back at the myriad of tools that lay at his disposal.? Various consecrated and sanctified tools lay about, divvied up into the various religions that they came from.? Purified salts, voodoo dolls, crossed, silver daggers, you name it, he had it.? If there was ever someone unprepared, it was not him.

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"<Let's get this party started!>" he shouted with such exuberance, opening his arms wide as the air suddenly became extremely oppressive.? The wavering flames that bit at the candle wicks they sat upon were suddenly deathly still.? As he began chanting, Kutsuki's eyes began to glow bright, a fiery crimson red even more pronounced in the dimness of the room.? The book that he held now flew in front of him, violently ripped open as the pages kept flipping until they at last came to the dead middle, portraying the pentagram circle much like the one that Kutsuki drew, though much less defined and ugly.? A slew of words graced the pages, though it was not the Latin that it spoke of, but the crudely scrawled language of the demons as if written by a claw.? It is what he suddenly began speaking, a sort of inhuman, guttural type of language that sounded as if it came from the underbelly of hell, like the rough bray of an old goat.? The pentagram began glowing a fiery red, much like his eyes, as he felt his body float, just the tips of his toes touching the bare floor.? A wind picked up in the room, threatening to blow the flames out that dearly held onto their wicked lives.? As he brought his hands together, a flash of light glinted off a metal edge as he winced and turned his right hand palm down, as rivulets of blood dripped randomly upon the floor.

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"<I summon thee, you old reviler of tongues, the desecrator of the commonwealth, ruiner of prosperity!>" Kutsuki called out, his voice sounding akin to mad, barking dog, sweeping his hand over the circle as blood dripped down to the edge of his undershirt, wetting the fibers.? The rest of what he spoke was unintelligible.? "<Come out, come out, you bastard of the underworld!? You adulterated mongrel.? Heed your master's call!? I summon thee!>" Let's see you get out of this one, you son of a bitch!

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(Luke)

The sun sank low on the horizon. A smattering of clouds moved to the swift currents in the sky that had changed from pearl blue to musky white. The waters of the gulf were choppy and gray.

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“A good day boss.” The voice rang out with a Jamaican accent.

Luke Reardon turned from his perch on the bench that sat at the end of the dock.? “Hey Tiger,” he said.

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Tiger’s legal name was Jayla Lee. She was nineteen with a Colonial and Indian blood line. She was tall with skin like mahogany and as beautiful as any runway model Luke had ever seen. She wore cutoffs and a tee shirt that read, ‘Get Off beach’. Jayla sat down next to him and also gazed out to the sea.

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“They were happy, yes?”

“Yes, our excursion was very successful. They told me they were excited about the fish they caught. In fact, they said they’d call about booking another day sometime in the future.”

“That is good Skip,” Jayla called him skipper or skip. Something she’d been doing since she was just a little girl.

“I took a couple calls,” she said. “Possible bookings for both of them.”

Luke nodded. “Fill up the calendar. I got nothing else to do.”

“You got nobody, wise you have naught else to do Skip.”

He gave her a playful elbow. “Ah shut up, would you? All the time bother me with this obsession.”

She smiled and shrugged, “Can’t say what I want with you?”

“Of course, you may. Now isn’t it time for you to be getting home?”

“Momma ask when you come for dinner?”

“Anytime,” Luke said.

“罢辞尘辞谤谤辞飞?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“See you Skip,” Jayla said. She rose and walked back up the shore line.

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The sun was gone and the wind had died down when Luke decided to move. He’d been contemplating staying with the boat tonight. Another tour was scheduled in the morning, and he could just stay and not drive back to the house. Staying would demand getting something to eat. The traffic was mellow in Raconteur. He pulled up to Eddie’s BBQ. Beer and BBQ, what a great plan. Inside he was greeted like a long-lost family member. Business was slow, so he got in line and had the clerk build him a sandwich with a side of corn and wedgy fries.

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The BBQ place was dingy, dark and in many ways the opposite of inviting. The walls were lined in dark wood covered with old pictures of people who had perhaps lived and visited the place. Most of the images were of the homemade variety with people standing around not really ready to have their picture taken. Each photo felt like it had its own secret story no one was ever going to know because they looked to be about a hundred years old.

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The lighting was archaic too. Old converted ship lanterns with the original yellowed glass beamed light feebly. The cords and chain that suspended them from the ceiling as dusty and rusted as any you might find in a ship buried sixty fathoms in the ocean.

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He ate the meal slow and casual but as usual he was done in minutes. He finished off the beer and had decided to get gone when a voice from the entrance called out.

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“Hey Captain,” a dark figure called out.

“Jones,” Luke replied with a chuckle. They were old friends and sometimes ultimate enemies across a board of chess.

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Jones was a huge man in almost every category. His balding scalp gleamed from the interior lights. He came over and sat down. “You shovin’ off sport?”

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“I was sort of thinking about it,” Luke said.

“Well don’t just yet. Got a story to tell you.”

Luke looked down at his wrist and an imaginary watch. “Go ahead, I’m like killing time anyway.”

“Funny you should mention the word ‘Killing’. Kid got his ass shot off down on Bergen street.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Billy Wright ring a bell?”

“I knew of him,” Luke acknowledged. “He was a couple classes behind me in High School. There is a reason why I remember him but it doesn’t come to mind just yet.”

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“Well he got himself in a world of hurt. Been doing the hustle with that opioid shit. But check this out, he was all cut to pieces. The story I heard was he was dead before the bullet.”

“Exotic attack you think,” Luke asked.

“Got to be Captain. One of them fancy assed medieval fucks.”

“Well, that is as good a reason to stay at the boat as any I’ve heard.”

“You know that is right,” Jones nodded in reply. “Lay low, let the law chase those butchers.”

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Luke made to get up. “Whoa now, I got a board in the car. We should just have some beer and play a few games.”

Luke nodded thoughtfully. “Let no pawn be spared.”

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(Kitty)

Kitty skipped down the street feeling the night come alive.? She was hungry and in the mood to dance.? She knew just were to go, Sabbat.? Would Cho be working tonight, she wondered?? Of course, he would be.? He worked just about every night there.? She was dressed in a mismatched outfit; green and white striped knee highs, a dark purple miniskirt, a hot pink tank top, topped off with a blue jean short jacket.? On her feet were black patent penny loafers.? Her purple hair and violet eyes and ruby red lipstick.

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She skipped up to the bouncer, Billy.? “Hey there, Billy the kid.? Is our boyfriend working tonight?” She asked with a smile as she stood on her tiptoes to give the man a kiss on the cheek.? She had skipped right past the line of people waiting to get in, because she knew she would be allowed in.

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With a smile and a gentle hug back to the girl, “Oh yes he is.? And he said I could have my kiss if he got drunk enough.”? He patted her rear end as she scooted through the open ropes.? She giggled and gave him a wink as she headed inside.

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She danced across the floor to the bar where Melissa, the redheaded waitress of the night was talking with Cho.? She scooted onto the bar stool next to them, “I will have my Special, Mr. Cho,” she said with a wink as she gave a smile to Melissa, “hello there, Lissa.? Going to be a great night, I can feel it.”? She has always called Melissa, Lissa and the girl never seemed to mind.

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(Scarlett MacAleister)

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With the bass thumping from a blaring pop song and lights strobing around her, Scarlett MacAleister strode through the doors to the Glass Menagerie and scanned the place with her keen eyesight. The club was full, mostly young college kids enjoying a night out on the town in the French Quarter. Among those innocent kids were the occasional vampire, demon or other supernatural.

There was no getting around that in New Orleans. The average person wouldn’t notice them, but Scarlett was not a typical woman. The hole-in-the wall nightclub in New Orleans was hopping as Scarlett entered, sauntered through the place and began to take account of potential threats.

She was dressed in a skintight black leather outfit, a one-piece bodysuit, with spiked-heel boots and a black leather duster. Tucked under each armpit in a double shoulder holster rig were two MK23 MOD 0 45-caliber offensive handguns with extended magazines. The bullets in each weapon, as well as the additional magazines inside compartments built into the coat, were silver hollow points filled with liquid garlic extract. The rounds would kill a human, likely kill a vampire or werewolf and would at the very least piss off a demon. There was also a wakizashi short sword under her coat and a couple of silver throwing knives in her boots.

Her red hair flowed behind her as she walked through the club, navigating with almost choreographed precision around the surging crowd on the dance floor. Her eyes were trained on a table toward the back of the club where a group of men and women were congregating. Scarlett saw at least two bodyguards materialize from the crowd and move in a direction to intercept her and she just grinned. Looks like this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d expected.

The first thug came between her and her objective. He was a burly human, Japanese, maybe six-foot-two and bulked up with muscles that bulged under his fancy suit. Scarlett had already assessed him and determined he was human – what she’d expected from Nakamura. These were typical yakuza soldiers. No surprises here.

“Where do you think you are going?” the thug managed to exclaim over the throbbing music and loud voices filling the club.

“To see Mr. Nakamura,” she said with a sweet smile, just before Scarlett struck the soldier in the face with her right palm, smashing his nose. As he staggered back, reaching under his jacket for a gun, she finished him with a blow to his throat, dropping him to the floor in a gasping, convulsing heap.

The redhead continued uninterrupted toward Nakamura’s table. She saw the yakuza sitting on the other side of the table, his eyes locked on her as she approached. He drew casually on a vaping pen in his left hand, his right undoubtably under the table grasping the butt of a pistol.

The other thug on the floor lunged at Scarlett when she came within range and he grabbed her by the left arm. She yanked him off his feet with one sweeping motion of her arm and drove a powerful punch into his solar plexus. The yakuza exhaled sharply and fought to catch his breath as Scarlett flipped him, landing him hard on his back.

Leaving him behind, she continued to almost float across the club and came to Nakamura’s table. Three more bodyguards were up, all had drawn swords similar to Scarlett’s. That was good. She preferred fighting with swords – guns were so clumsy and caused too much collateral damage. There was more risk for her though, if one of these fools got lucky and took her head off…there’d be no coming back from that.

The first yakuza who came in range was dispensed with haste. He didn’t even see her wakizashi clear the sheath and come streaking at him, propelled by Scarlett’s enhanced strength and speed. Before he could even attempt to block, she had lopped his head off with the flash of her blade.

Suddenly, panic erupted all around them. The first two yakuza she’d dispatched had drawn little attention in the crowded nightclub, the music and lights keeping notice of the incident to just a few surrounding people. But when the yakuza’s head flew in the air, the screams that went up from the people sent a panic through the club.

Scarlett swung around and blocked another incoming blade, then attacked that sword wielding thug who did a good job blocking her advancing attacks. She sensed the other yakuza coming from behind and she pivoted, blocking his blow, before launching a kick at his midsection, which connected and drove him back.

She came up out of the kick in time to parry another strike by the yakuza who was still standing. After a series of strikes and parries, she managed to run him through with her sword and pulled the blade back out, leaving him to slide off onto the floor. Scarlett came back from dispatching that yakuza, to face the remaining bodyguard who was nearly on her.

He swung his blade viciously and the tip of the wakizashi sliced through the shoulder of her outfit and cut into her flesh. Scarlett barely flinched from the injury, returning the gesture by slashing the goon across the chest, opening a serious wound from his right shoulder to the bottom of his left ribcage.

Goro Nakamura was now standing, the rest of his party fleeing for their lives with the rest of the patrons, as the yakuza boss joining his bodyguard and attacked the redhaired vampire. Scarlett took turns fending off attacks by both men, her body a whirl of motion, until she finally managed to swing her sword and took off the head of the remaining bodyguard. As the headless corpse hit the floor, she pivoted and faced Nakamura.

“You are a dead woman,” he muttered, squaring off in a fighting stance. “Who sent you?”

“Does that really matter?” she hissed. “I want to know about the kid found dead on Bergen Street a few days back. Heard he was an associate of yours?”

Nakamura smirked, “Lucas Rhames? That punk? Who cares about him?”

“His parents,” she said. “He was dealing for you. You had him strung out to keep him loyal. Someone butchered him and I want to know why?” Scarlett said.

“I heard you were asking questions around town about him,” Nakamura growled low. “I know what you are. I’ve heard of you. I have a treaty with your people. You can’t touch me.”

Scarlett came at him and he fended off several blows from her sword as she circled him. “Then I guess you haven’t heard of me, because I don’t give a shit about treaties. Tell me who killed the boy.”

“There are worse things in this world than vampires,” he said dryly. “The kid is dead. Just another junkie. Forget about him and move on.”

Scarlett shook her head and he came at her low, trying to drive the blade into her gut, but she sidestepped his attack and fed him an elbow to the face. As he staggered back, she swung, slicing his left cheek, and he blurted out profanity.

“You are the Outcast?” Nakamura gasped. “Your death will gain me great favors among your people.”

Scarlett parried another attack and then came at him aggressively, challenging his ability to keep her at bay. As their swords clanged off one another, he faulted in his defense and Scarlett ran him through, the sword piercing his shoulder and pinning him to the wall.

“Looks like your ass is writing checks it can’t cash, Goro,” she said with disgust.

Nakamura stared at her in disbelief as he felt the sword pierce his flesh. He dropped his sword and stood there, his entire left side stuck to the wall behind him..

“You stupid…bitch…I didn’t kill him!” Goro groaned, looking at the sword buried in his shoulder. “It was something else…not human…I don’t know what…it wasn’t worth me…getting involved.”

Scarlett considered him a moment, then leaned closer to his face. The smell of the blood was getting to her quickly, so she knew she’d have to make this fast.

“A name. Someone who knows who or what killed Lucas!” she demanded.

“It had an associate,” Goro said through clenched teeth. “A human…a handler of some kind. He said the boy owed a debt and his master was collecting. I was advised to stay out if it…after seeing what it did to Lucas I wasn’t about to get involved.”

Scarlett stared at him a moment, gauging his reactions, then she pulled the blade from his shoulder and Nakamura slid down the wall to the floor.

The redhead flicked the blood from her sword and then she turned and looked around the club. It was mostly empty, save for a few patrons huddled in corners and under tables, seeking refuge from the battle.

Scarlett turned and headed toward the door. As she approached, another bodyguard, Nakamura’s driver, stepped inside with a pistol in hand and fired off several shots at her. She evaded the shots with lightning speed and when she reached the man, she knocked the gun from his grasp before slamming him against the wall and baring her fangs.

“Sorry, but I seem to have worked up a hunger,” Scarlett hissed, before sinking her suddenly extended fangs into the driver’s neck. She drank quickly, knowing the police or reinforcements from the yakuza, would soon be coming through the door. When she’d finished, she drew the sword and ran it through his neck, severing the head and making sure the yakuza would not turn.

Scarlett dropped the driver to the floor and headed out the door. Parked in the alley behind the club was her motorcycle, which she mounted and fired up. As she drove off into the night she pondered where this case was ultimately going to lead…but so far it didn’t sound good.

(Pyp)

Pyp was actually having quite a good time when he felt the tell-tale tingling in the air.? Someone was doing a summoning, someone not too far away.? The spell was archaic and almost certainly not meant for him, but hey, beggars could not be choosers and his time was running out.? Besides, the thought of intercepting a summoning intended for another demon appealed to his anarchic sense of humor.

"Sorry everyone," he sighed, looking to the crowd of enticingly-clad mortals he'd gathered in his luxury suite, a tempting assortment of male and female and those in-between.? He had fully planned to fuck each and every one of them at least once before dawn.? But as the man said, the best-laid plans of mice and men and all that.? "It seems that I'm being called away." Cries of disappointment filled the room, but he waved them down so he could continue.? "But that doesn't mean the party has to stop.? You all go on without me.? I'll pop back in if I can.? But if I can't..." he grinned devilishly "...just remember who made it all possible." ?

With that, he blew kisses to one and all and then left the suite.? The pull was growing stronger and Pyp knew that other demons might start picking up on it if he didn't act quickly.? "And a-way we go!" he snickered, turning about with a flourish and then vanishing from view.? The world around him flickered into darkness as he felt himself being drawn through the ether that normally existed between the spirit worlds and the mortal world, but in this case he was merely being taken from one place in the mortal world to another.? Somewhere very close by, judging by how quickly the world suddenly came back into focus...

...and he was in a room.? A room turned into a make-shift summoning platform, furniture obviously shoved to the sides to make space for the portal circle.? The demon glanced around at the various ceremonial arrangements, the arcane symbols drawn on the floor, the appointed enticements placed at the points of the pentagram. His boyish face scrunched up with disdain.? "You gotta be fucking kidding me," Pyp muttered.? "Even that quack Nostradamus wasn't _this_ bad." ?

As he finished his look around his surroundings, his gleaming ruby eyes finally settled on the figure of his summoner.? "I say again, you gotta be fucking _kidding_ me!? _You_ are my summoner?" The demon, still looking like a Korean pop-star flower boy except for his glowing red eyes, walked up to the edge of the summoning circle to where he was facing the white-haired youth dressed like a grunge singer directly.? "Are you even old enough to shave?" he asked incredulously.? "And what is this place?" he went on, gesturing with both arms at the surrounding room.? "Your mom's basement?"

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He smirked winking at Kitty.? “Mr.?? All formal and things now?”? He teased as he greeted her and moved back to his area to make her drink that he was now after seeing her a few times knew how to make it exactly to her liking.? He was enjoying this job more than his IT one this was purely fun in a lot of different ways, the people, the interaction and the scenery were all things that kept bring him back.? The tips were good too.?

“So lovely how are you doing tonight?? What have you been up too?”? He really was wanting to get to know her, what it wrong that he truly wanted to taste those lips she really did look good and he was full so he wouldn’t have to worry about her knowing who and what he was he could just enjoy the moment…if it ever came up.? Now Kitty he did have to catch himself from licking his lips cause her, he did look like she was on the menu for sure.?

He served her drink, moved on down the bar only to come back to get his answers.

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Tag: ??Kutsuki, Luke, Kitty, Scarlett, Pyp, Cho

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