Unnamed (1/?)
(Author: Alasia)
Knee high, black leather boots gave way to mile long legs that disappeared under a black leather skirt, the waistline covered by a tight black, sleeveless corset that was tight and laced up the front. The pale skin of her shoulders and bosom was covered by the black leather duster that fell just below her knees. Silky, pale blonde hair fell in a waterfall to her thighs where it curled into loose rings. Ice blue eyes line with black and a dark metallic red that barely dusted eyelids. Her lips were a deep red, reminding anyone that looked of blood. Sharp incisors showed that she was something more than human.
New York City was a mecca of activity, day and night. The centre of trouble for humans that went about their daily lives, barely aware of the creatures that roamed through their midst, picking them off one by one. There were clubs all throughout the city that catered to vampires and demons such as herself - there usually were. Danny's Place was one of the quieter, rundown bars that demons went to when they wanted to be left alone. The owner was a snitch, but he only snitched what he heard - he never asked questions.
A group of mean looking demons entered the bar, followed closely by the Tracer Demon she'd been hunting for days now. Tracers had the ability to travel between dimensions, and this one was currently picking off powerful witches, daywalkers and seers and others that worked on the Light side of the battle of good vs. evil. The rumour mill had produced that he'd started looking for a Daywalker, one that called herself Callisto, and as a result, the hunter had become the hunted. This demon had chosen the wrong Daywalker to go after, everyone in Danny's knew this as they watched her finish off her mug of blood (animal, as it happened - as Callisto was mostly human, and still had a soul) and rise from her seated position at the bar to make her way slowly across the room toward the Tracer and his demonic buddies.
Three vampires and a group of wrinkly demons quickly vacated this side of the bar as she came to a stop in front of the Tracer's table. They knew she was armed to the teeth - hell, she was the one who carried a black katana with diamond edging. She crossed her arms as the conversation at the table stopped and they turned to her.
"I heard you were looking for me, Tracer."
The Tracer looked her up and down, examining her pale hair and eyes, her high cheekbones and dark red lips. "Who are you?"
"Callisto." She replied. "Your next target - the daywalker."
The Tracer sprang to his feet and muttered something before hurling an orb of some sort at her. She deflected the blow with her telekinesis and it hit a barstool, which crackled for a second before disappearing into nothingness. The three demons with the Tracer lunged at her and the bar fight began. Hard blows were traded as full super strength was put behind not only their blows, but hers, as they were at least all seven feet tall with thick chest bones and horns on their heads. Callisto managed to decapitate one of them before her sword was thrown to the side and she was lifted into the air by the throat.
"Time for you to go, Daywalker." The Tracer spoke with a smirk before forming an orb of the crackling black energy he'd thrown before. Callisto's mind latched into her sword and it hurled itself into the demon next to it before running the one holding her up through. She landed on her knees and grabbed her sword before a shock filled her. Electricity was running through her veins, making her hair stand on end as her body jolted and she found herself falling through what appeared to be clear blue skies, her sword left behind in the dead body of an ugly demon.
She plummeted to the ground before she reached the forest, which she crashed through, slamming into three branches before finally landing on her back with a thud and a severe crack as her vision blackened at the edges as she tried to bred from what she knew was not only pain from falling for so long, but from having the breath forced out of her from the impact. She couldn't feel her arms and legs - the pain hadn't registered at all, as she'd crossed her tolerance on impact with the ground and it was a miracle she was still conscious.
Then, just as this thought crossed her mind, she blacked out.
* * *
When Callisto woke, she knew she hadn't started the fire that now roared merrily to her right. She knew she hadn't put that blanket over her, and she felt like shit. She was filled with aches and pains, but that was all, so she assumed she'd recovered from her broken back thanks to her advanced healing. Which also meant she'd been unconscious for something near to three days. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring up at what appeared to be a very detailed statue of a mountain troll.
"He's going cold!"
The exclamation forced her to tilt her head to see three tiny people hovering over another tiny person and a man who very obviously needed a bath, who stood with a torch in one hand some five yards away.
"Sam?" The man asked, turning to the fattest of the four tiny men. "Do you know the Athelas plant?"
"Athelas?"
"Kingsfoil."
"Oh, that - it's a weed."
"It may help to slow the poison." The man said to 'Sam' and the two were off looking for it.
Suddenly the hair of the back of Callisto's neck rose and she stood swiftly, the blanket that had been placed over her falling to the floor. The two remaining little men both jumped abruptly as she scanned the trees, eyes glowing softly in the firelight as her enhanced night vision spotted wolves just outside the circle of light. She calmed slightly, but not completely, something was extremely wrong with this situation, even as she took in huge, hairy feet and large, pointed ears.
"You're awake!" The shorter of the two exclaimed. Callisto gave a short nod before her eyes flickered to the road they were taking and focused her ears into the sounds of hoof beats. The man and 'Sam' appeared out of the bushes as a white horse cantered up and stopped, allowing its rider off so that the pointy eared woman could kneel by the obviously sick little man. Callisto's eyes flickered around the clearing before she dipped into each mind with her telepathy.
She learned a lot in those short moments. She learned names, and who and what each one was. She also learned what was wrong with this situation. The sick one, Frodo, as she learned he was called, had been stabbed by a morgul blade an enchanted blade that would take him into the shadow realms and make him a monster. She also learned of the great evil he carried and found herself entranced by the One Ring and its history. By the time she pulled herself from their minds the Elf - Arwen, as she was called, was riding off, Frodo seated in front of her.
* * *
Rivendell wasn't anything like what Callisto had expected. They obviously didn't know she was a Daywalker, or didn't care, wither one she found herself being settled into a room and given a long hot bath as her clothes were taken away to be cleaned and the leather of her skirt, coat and boots treated for travel in the wilderness. She was called in once to speak with Elrond and a wizard called Gandalf to discuss who she was and why she was there before she was invited to the council that would be held once Frodo woke.
She found herself hunting game in order to eat. Slowly draining the blood from rabbits and small birds once a day. She was careful about her hunting, making sure that none of the elves saw, and especially that her new friends, the Hobbits didn't find out. They'd asked about her fangs before, and she'd merely smile at them and said she was a little more that ordinary.
The day that Frodo woke dawned bright and early. Callisto found herself moving out onto what she'd come to think of as her balcony as she looked down into the main courtyard, dressed in a black silk night-gown and trailing housecoat. A small group of Dwarves had arrived the night before for the council, and this morning, as the day was still heating up and the air was still crisp as the sun wasn't quite fully up yet, in rode a man on a brown horse, looking worn and weary. Following him was a group of Elves that she assumed were from another region, as they dressed in browns and greens mostly, unlike the almost autumnal colours of the Rivendell Elves.
Below her appeared Elrond and Gandalf as they greeted the new arrivals.
"Who is that, my lord?" Boromir asked, looking upward. All eyes turned to the balcony where a tall woman stood, clad in flowy black, her pale blonde hair catching the light as the sun finally peeked over the tops of the trees.
"That, my friend, is a Daywalker." Said Gandalf with a tiny smile, baffling those around him. "She will represent her kind at the Council tomorrow."
Only Gandalf knew that she had heard his words. Only Gandalf knew what she was and that she had heightened senses... Or that she drank blood.