A lithe shadow moved about the dimly lit alleyways. Its form was male, tall and broad-shouldered. He walked with a confident swagger, as if he owned the night. His white jacket stood out boldly against the tranquil dark. The Japanese symbol for evil ruffling softly in the wind. He turned sharply into an opening barely large enough to fit his frame. He rapped upon the small iron door in the conclave casually. A narrow hole, just long enough for a pair of eyes, slid open to reveal a sharp set of ice blue, devoid of emotion.
"Wine can be bitter." A monotone voice sounded from behind the iron partition.
"But blood is much better." Responded the white clad man, a lazy drawl in his voice.
A heavy moving of metal locks echoed to the street and the door creaked laboriously inward. As he stepped within the door, it slammed with a sharp scratch of metal on metal.
"You got stuck with guard-duty again, Okashira?" The man in white bantered amiably. A teasing smile revealed long white canines.
"You always late to the meetings, Zanza?" The ice-eyed man responded in the same monotone as before.
Shinomori Aoshi, other wise known as Okashira in the Underground, was always given guard duty. It was not demeaning in any way, in fact it was one of the highest honors in the guild. To be given the task of dealing with the slayers and rouge vampires was no small task. Aoshi was one of the best. The man called Zanza swept past the outer hallway into the club portion of the building.
Pulsing strobe lights gave a stop action effect to the inhabitants within, that is, if there had been any action. The club was centered around a large stage. Below it were many seedy looking square tables. All of these had been pushed to the side to make room for a long meeting table. This looked very misplaced in the pulsing club atmosphere. Seated around this table were 9 men of differing social class. As Zanza entered, all of the men tensed visably, all eyes turned to him. Zanza grinned haughtily at them. It was his joy in life to break their little proprieties.
"Ahou, get your lazy ass in here so we need not prolong this little practice in manners longer then absolutely necessary." A wolfish man with golden eyes drawled languidly at the one entering.
"Just making a fashionable entrance, Goro. Hope I didn't disturb anyone's meal." Drawled Zanza.
Fujita Goro, also known as Saito Hajime, was one of the oldest and most annoying of the brotherhood present. His sharp angular features and hunter's eyes earned him the pseudonym of the Mibu Wolf. As much as Zanza found this man a bother, one had to admire the ability to survive as long as he had. As Zanza took his seat, he glanced around at the other vampires present. Zanza groaned internally. These were the same faces every October. Each of the mater vampires, those who had lived the longest, had brought their most prominent student. Much of the vampire status was based on who sired you, in essence, who brought you into the darkness. Goro had his favorite, Okita, beside him. That pair was as different as night and day. Okita was happy, spritely, and over all a bouncing ball of fangs. Goro had the most biting calm humor Zanza had ever come across. He was cold and calculation, NEVER bouncy. Shishio Makota sat across from Zanza, his blood-tinged eyes boring into his sanity. Shishio's apprentice, Tenken, also called Seta Soujiro, sat at the right hand of his sire, smiling. That kid, quite frankly, freaked Zanza. The vamp was always smiling, while talking, while hunting, even when he was slitting a throat he would still smile.
"Let's get this charade moving. First order of business, have we agreed on the location of the 'game'? The host is the Middle Earth Theme Park, during the Haunting Halloween special event. The radius is the theme park grounds, no 'kills' are to be made out of bounds during the 'game'." Each assembled nodded or grunted their acquiescence. "Good. Rules time. First rule: each hopeful 'hunter' must be sponsored by a sire of no less than 500 years born. Do all apply?" Goro looked about the room to have the formalities stated.
"Shishio Makota, birthed 1070 anno domini, install Tenken to the 'game'." Goro nodded as Shishio resumed his seat. Shishio's red eyes glowed in the alternating strobe lighting as he shifted slightly under the bandage wraps that covered his body. anOther man rose, his stringy hair was grey in hew, his gaunt face deeply etched with lines of age, despite his ageless condition.
"Okina Jiya, birthed 1109 anno domini, install Okishira to the 'game'." Okishira had silently taken the seat beside Okina and was now noding gravely to Goro. The man had sliped in unnoticed and soon disappeared in the same manner.
The next master to stand was Hiko Seijiro. His olimpic build drew all eyes instinctively. The white mantel draped languidly across his shoulders only added to his towering persona.
"Hiko Seijiro, birthed 1359 anno domini, install Miyohji Yahiko to the 'game'." His apprentace nodded, eyes burning with determination. This vampire was in the form of a young boy with spiked black hair and an old fashioned bokken slung about his back.
Sano waited, bored by the preceedings, until his own sire stood
"Captain Sagara, birthed 1470 anno domini, install Zanza to the 'game'." Captain Sagara spoke in a deep calming voice. He was strongly built, battle-ready, yet kept a playful glimmer in his eyes at most times. Zanza watched him with child-like awe. This was his mentor, his master, his idol.
Goro was the last to speak.
"Goro Fujita, birthed 109 anno domini, install Okita to the 'game'." Goro looked at each sire and apprentice present and sighed softly. "All sires accepted for installation rights. Next order of business, Second rule: each 'kill' made in the 'game' must be registered with the mediator. The proposed mediator is Makimachi Misao. All in favor of the weasle speak." Each sire voiced their approval, some snickering at the use of her hatted nickname. "Alright, the little weasel is approved." Goro grumbled.
Zanza tilted his head back, slumping lower into his stiff chair. Another uneventful meeting, but it was good to be back. He had actually missed seeing the old codgers again. It had been nearly 50 years since he even considered rejoining vampire society. After 'her' he didn't have the will to live anymore. Zanza woke from his contemplation to grin rackishly as his ears registered "Misao". At least this 'game' would have something fun. He had always enjoyed ruffling Misao's feathers. Just as Zanza was slipping off into a daydream of a giant rooster chasing a weasel aroung a theme pak, Goro's comanding timbre brought his back to reality.
"Third and final rule: NO changing or birthing of vampires for any reason. This must be followed! We do not want another 'incident' like was happened 50 years ago."
This was followed by shocked gasps and all eyes gluing themselves to Zanza's sullen face. Goro knew that this was an extremely unnerving for the reciently appeared Zanza, but he would have to face consequences soon enough for his actions.
Each apprentice stood, saying a solemn vow of non-interference with human mortality. Goro heard each vow with open ears, memorizing each vampire's face, just in case 'extreme measures' needed to be taken. As Zanza began his own vow Goro suddenly stoped him.
"Zanza as joyfull as we all are to have you return from your selfinforced solitude, I, considering your record with this type of circumstance, am not going to allow you to take the vow. Zanza, you are hereby banned from this year's 'game'." Goro traped Zanza with his amber glare, daring him to challenge his ruling.
The others about the table made small protests, though none were heatedly for or against the young vampire. Each were indifferent, as was their normal state. Zanza growled low in his throat at the hypocrisy of the vampire council, each only looked for his own hide. Zanza held Goro's eyes for a full 5 minutes before backing down. Zanza's voice, attempting to sound indifferent, cracked slightly as he spoke.
"Feh. Whatever. I don't need your idiotic 'game' anyway. Who wants to jusp through a bunch of hoops for a bunch of old mummies like you." Zanza spun on his heel before Captain Sagara could speak in his defense or temper his anger. Zanza spit one final barb at the masters assembled, unable to stop the hurt from seeping into his voice. "Thanx for the warm welcome back."
Zanza stormed into the entrance hall, leaving the others to finish their 'game' preparations. He flew past Okishira at an attempt to outrun the memories that the meeting had caused to surface. Searing, painful memories he had been trying to suppress over 50 years. As his arm pulled the iron door back violently, a gloved hand halted his arm. Zanza glared at Okishira, willing him to let go. Okishira had no such intention. His ice-eyes looked into Zanza's cinnamon brown orbs. Okishira silently sliped something into Zanza'a palm and shoved him out the door. As Okishira slid the iron eye hole shut his monotone drifted to the stunned Zanza.
"Have a good 'game'."
Zanza stared at the object in his palm. It was a small plastic slip, much like a credit card. On the back, inscribed in ancient Moorish, was the vampire passwords "Wine is bitter, but blood is much better." Zanza marveled over the magnanimous gift he had just received. Not only had Okishira just given him as in to the 'game' and regaining respectability in vampire society, but he had also risked his own membership. Zanza grined, sliding the card into one of his inner pockets. Okishira was a truely good friend, despite the whole ice-block image. Perhaps Zanza could return the favor in some small way. Zanza grinned devilishly at his never few thoughts. Zanza knew that, as much as Okishira denied it, his eyes only lit up when he saw a certain genki weasel. Possibly he could accidentally on purpose stick them in a dark cave with no means of escape… And no blanket. Zanza strolled back to his flat, via the bar, thinking. He though of many things, mainly the depressing past, but also of the upcoming game. 31st, All hallow's eve, or Halloween as it was now called would be fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay peoples, this is my new fic, no worries I have it all planed out 'til about chapter 6, but I also have school, work, and a senior project, so no time schedule yet. I hope you liked this. I know there were a lot of names thrown at you, but most you don't have to worry about 'til later. No wining! I know Kenshin's not here yet, but just hold your horses, I do have his entrance planned. The girls enter in the next chapter…. Oh the plot thickens.
Review! Ryu-chan types faster and longer when she has reviews to inspire her.
P.S. Yes I know Okita is dead, so don't even start! He's a vampire now and this is my fic. I can regenerate whomever I want.
"Wine can be bitter." A monotone voice sounded from behind the iron partition.
"But blood is much better." Responded the white clad man, a lazy drawl in his voice.
A heavy moving of metal locks echoed to the street and the door creaked laboriously inward. As he stepped within the door, it slammed with a sharp scratch of metal on metal.
"You got stuck with guard-duty again, Okashira?" The man in white bantered amiably. A teasing smile revealed long white canines.
"You always late to the meetings, Zanza?" The ice-eyed man responded in the same monotone as before.
Shinomori Aoshi, other wise known as Okashira in the Underground, was always given guard duty. It was not demeaning in any way, in fact it was one of the highest honors in the guild. To be given the task of dealing with the slayers and rouge vampires was no small task. Aoshi was one of the best. The man called Zanza swept past the outer hallway into the club portion of the building.
Pulsing strobe lights gave a stop action effect to the inhabitants within, that is, if there had been any action. The club was centered around a large stage. Below it were many seedy looking square tables. All of these had been pushed to the side to make room for a long meeting table. This looked very misplaced in the pulsing club atmosphere. Seated around this table were 9 men of differing social class. As Zanza entered, all of the men tensed visably, all eyes turned to him. Zanza grinned haughtily at them. It was his joy in life to break their little proprieties.
"Ahou, get your lazy ass in here so we need not prolong this little practice in manners longer then absolutely necessary." A wolfish man with golden eyes drawled languidly at the one entering.
"Just making a fashionable entrance, Goro. Hope I didn't disturb anyone's meal." Drawled Zanza.
Fujita Goro, also known as Saito Hajime, was one of the oldest and most annoying of the brotherhood present. His sharp angular features and hunter's eyes earned him the pseudonym of the Mibu Wolf. As much as Zanza found this man a bother, one had to admire the ability to survive as long as he had. As Zanza took his seat, he glanced around at the other vampires present. Zanza groaned internally. These were the same faces every October. Each of the mater vampires, those who had lived the longest, had brought their most prominent student. Much of the vampire status was based on who sired you, in essence, who brought you into the darkness. Goro had his favorite, Okita, beside him. That pair was as different as night and day. Okita was happy, spritely, and over all a bouncing ball of fangs. Goro had the most biting calm humor Zanza had ever come across. He was cold and calculation, NEVER bouncy. Shishio Makota sat across from Zanza, his blood-tinged eyes boring into his sanity. Shishio's apprentice, Tenken, also called Seta Soujiro, sat at the right hand of his sire, smiling. That kid, quite frankly, freaked Zanza. The vamp was always smiling, while talking, while hunting, even when he was slitting a throat he would still smile.
"Let's get this charade moving. First order of business, have we agreed on the location of the 'game'? The host is the Middle Earth Theme Park, during the Haunting Halloween special event. The radius is the theme park grounds, no 'kills' are to be made out of bounds during the 'game'." Each assembled nodded or grunted their acquiescence. "Good. Rules time. First rule: each hopeful 'hunter' must be sponsored by a sire of no less than 500 years born. Do all apply?" Goro looked about the room to have the formalities stated.
"Shishio Makota, birthed 1070 anno domini, install Tenken to the 'game'." Goro nodded as Shishio resumed his seat. Shishio's red eyes glowed in the alternating strobe lighting as he shifted slightly under the bandage wraps that covered his body. anOther man rose, his stringy hair was grey in hew, his gaunt face deeply etched with lines of age, despite his ageless condition.
"Okina Jiya, birthed 1109 anno domini, install Okishira to the 'game'." Okishira had silently taken the seat beside Okina and was now noding gravely to Goro. The man had sliped in unnoticed and soon disappeared in the same manner.
The next master to stand was Hiko Seijiro. His olimpic build drew all eyes instinctively. The white mantel draped languidly across his shoulders only added to his towering persona.
"Hiko Seijiro, birthed 1359 anno domini, install Miyohji Yahiko to the 'game'." His apprentace nodded, eyes burning with determination. This vampire was in the form of a young boy with spiked black hair and an old fashioned bokken slung about his back.
Sano waited, bored by the preceedings, until his own sire stood
"Captain Sagara, birthed 1470 anno domini, install Zanza to the 'game'." Captain Sagara spoke in a deep calming voice. He was strongly built, battle-ready, yet kept a playful glimmer in his eyes at most times. Zanza watched him with child-like awe. This was his mentor, his master, his idol.
Goro was the last to speak.
"Goro Fujita, birthed 109 anno domini, install Okita to the 'game'." Goro looked at each sire and apprentice present and sighed softly. "All sires accepted for installation rights. Next order of business, Second rule: each 'kill' made in the 'game' must be registered with the mediator. The proposed mediator is Makimachi Misao. All in favor of the weasle speak." Each sire voiced their approval, some snickering at the use of her hatted nickname. "Alright, the little weasel is approved." Goro grumbled.
Zanza tilted his head back, slumping lower into his stiff chair. Another uneventful meeting, but it was good to be back. He had actually missed seeing the old codgers again. It had been nearly 50 years since he even considered rejoining vampire society. After 'her' he didn't have the will to live anymore. Zanza woke from his contemplation to grin rackishly as his ears registered "Misao". At least this 'game' would have something fun. He had always enjoyed ruffling Misao's feathers. Just as Zanza was slipping off into a daydream of a giant rooster chasing a weasel aroung a theme pak, Goro's comanding timbre brought his back to reality.
"Third and final rule: NO changing or birthing of vampires for any reason. This must be followed! We do not want another 'incident' like was happened 50 years ago."
This was followed by shocked gasps and all eyes gluing themselves to Zanza's sullen face. Goro knew that this was an extremely unnerving for the reciently appeared Zanza, but he would have to face consequences soon enough for his actions.
Each apprentice stood, saying a solemn vow of non-interference with human mortality. Goro heard each vow with open ears, memorizing each vampire's face, just in case 'extreme measures' needed to be taken. As Zanza began his own vow Goro suddenly stoped him.
"Zanza as joyfull as we all are to have you return from your selfinforced solitude, I, considering your record with this type of circumstance, am not going to allow you to take the vow. Zanza, you are hereby banned from this year's 'game'." Goro traped Zanza with his amber glare, daring him to challenge his ruling.
The others about the table made small protests, though none were heatedly for or against the young vampire. Each were indifferent, as was their normal state. Zanza growled low in his throat at the hypocrisy of the vampire council, each only looked for his own hide. Zanza held Goro's eyes for a full 5 minutes before backing down. Zanza's voice, attempting to sound indifferent, cracked slightly as he spoke.
"Feh. Whatever. I don't need your idiotic 'game' anyway. Who wants to jusp through a bunch of hoops for a bunch of old mummies like you." Zanza spun on his heel before Captain Sagara could speak in his defense or temper his anger. Zanza spit one final barb at the masters assembled, unable to stop the hurt from seeping into his voice. "Thanx for the warm welcome back."
Zanza stormed into the entrance hall, leaving the others to finish their 'game' preparations. He flew past Okishira at an attempt to outrun the memories that the meeting had caused to surface. Searing, painful memories he had been trying to suppress over 50 years. As his arm pulled the iron door back violently, a gloved hand halted his arm. Zanza glared at Okishira, willing him to let go. Okishira had no such intention. His ice-eyes looked into Zanza's cinnamon brown orbs. Okishira silently sliped something into Zanza'a palm and shoved him out the door. As Okishira slid the iron eye hole shut his monotone drifted to the stunned Zanza.
"Have a good 'game'."
Zanza stared at the object in his palm. It was a small plastic slip, much like a credit card. On the back, inscribed in ancient Moorish, was the vampire passwords "Wine is bitter, but blood is much better." Zanza marveled over the magnanimous gift he had just received. Not only had Okishira just given him as in to the 'game' and regaining respectability in vampire society, but he had also risked his own membership. Zanza grined, sliding the card into one of his inner pockets. Okishira was a truely good friend, despite the whole ice-block image. Perhaps Zanza could return the favor in some small way. Zanza grinned devilishly at his never few thoughts. Zanza knew that, as much as Okishira denied it, his eyes only lit up when he saw a certain genki weasel. Possibly he could accidentally on purpose stick them in a dark cave with no means of escape… And no blanket. Zanza strolled back to his flat, via the bar, thinking. He though of many things, mainly the depressing past, but also of the upcoming game. 31st, All hallow's eve, or Halloween as it was now called would be fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay peoples, this is my new fic, no worries I have it all planed out 'til about chapter 6, but I also have school, work, and a senior project, so no time schedule yet. I hope you liked this. I know there were a lot of names thrown at you, but most you don't have to worry about 'til later. No wining! I know Kenshin's not here yet, but just hold your horses, I do have his entrance planned. The girls enter in the next chapter…. Oh the plot thickens.
Review! Ryu-chan types faster and longer when she has reviews to inspire her.
P.S. Yes I know Okita is dead, so don't even start! He's a vampire now and this is my fic. I can regenerate whomever I want.