Alright. Welcome to the Beginning of the end! Enjoy.
Disclaimer:…yadda yadda yadda, Donatello is one sexy little turtle…
Chapter One
Boots echoed off of the cold stone as the red-haired young man strutted into the dark room. The chains adoring his legs rattled loudly as he walked, the rattles slowing and then ceasing as he slowed to a stop in the middle of the room. A pasty white hand ran through scarlet-red hair as he sighed, preparing for what he knew he had to do. Casting away his self worth and immense pride, he kneeled in humility for the being that he knew was before him. Face to the ground, he spoke, his voice seemingly booming as it bounced off of the floor only inches below him nose.
'You've summoned for me, Master.'
It was not meant to be a question, but nevertheless, the being still responded as such.
'Yes my follower…'
The red haired youth waited in his kneel for the demonic master to continue, and as it was, he did not have to wait long. Talons tapped against the stone floor as the heavy footsteps of the demon underlord echoing loudly in the cold, dark room. However, the youth knew that if he looked up, he would have still seen nothing.
Drakoc still was not physical enough to be seen in this world.
But he was still there.
'The meeting shall be held tonight, will it not?'
His voice was the sound of all damnation, evil in it's purest form. It would have cut through the youth like a knife, that is, if the youth's own evilness wasn't so close behind. Instead, the youth nodded, his face never leaving the ground before him.
'Yes, my Lord.'
The noises stopped, ending just before the bowed figure. The youth listened, the demon's hot stench of a breath just on his neck as it bent over him. He remained still as the demon seemed to sniff him for one purpose or the other before speaking once more, his voice no louder than a fiendish whisper.
'Then let it commence as you say. Spread my forthcoming, and bring me followers. Then and only then can I be released into this world. But if you fail me…'
The youth froze as a hot breath was released on his back of his neck, not enough to scorch, but enough to leave his skin blistered. And almost as quickly as it had occurred it went away, the vampire blood within him healing him almost instantly.
Above him the demon began to laugh, his horrific chuckles resonating off of the walls like the moans of a million damned souls.
'Do not fail me, servant. Do not!'
The youth could still hear the smile on his voice as he continued, 'Or your own suffering will be inevitable…'The youth fell lower to the ground in reverence, his nose cold from the frigidness of the stone it touched.
'Yes, My lord.'
A single chuckle seemed to resonate against the walls once more before dying away altogether. The heavy and satanic spirit before him disappeared back to the regions of the netherworld, and in response, the youth waited several moments after the demon's departure before even thinking of sitting up from his kneel. He had his orders, and as such, he could complete the night as planned.
Tonight he would find recruits. Together they would form an army, finally able to overthrow the sovereignty
that was AVTech.And as it was, he knew that the vampires (especially this crowd of vampires) would be more than willing to join their ranks...
Trevor smiled.
After tonight, the gears of events would be unstoppable, their true ambitions finally able come out as the whirlwind of evil ran ramped through this world.
Drakoc's coming was so soon, he could smell it.
And God save this world when he did.
Owen breathed in the scent of blood and sweat as the girl in his grasp leaned against him for support. Slowing his ministrations to a stop, he held her there, not really sure if she could balance on her own but not wanting to risk having her just fall to the ground. After what seemed like eons, but what he knew to be only a few minutes, the girl finally stood on her own two feet. Moaning weakly, she looked up and into the black eyes of her captor, and in response, he looked back down at her with the sincerest remorse.
"Go home. Your father is missing you."
He stated simply, his lips never moving as he spoke into her mind. She blinked then, as if seeing him for the first time before staggering backwards and away from the tall figure. Owen watched her go, he himself never moving from her unwavering gaze until she found her way out of the dark alley. Then and only then did she let her eyes leave him, turning instead to run, her footsteps rapid against the gray concrete.Owen listened to their echoes until their was no more. Finally, when he heard her no more of her or her footsteps, he pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on, his lips barely moving as he shook his head at her former transgressions.
"Runaways…"
Stepping out of the alley himself, Owen breathed in the fresh air, the crisp September air nipping at his bare arms as he slowly and leisurely crossed the street. He felt naked against the cold and against the world, his coat being left and discarded on his chair in the lair. At first, and without thinking, he had picked it up as well to head out in, but with the turtle's chiding almost immediately thereafter, he dropped the coat, leaving it behind.
And for good reason.
That coat was Owen, and tonight he was not Owen anymore…
'That still doesn't mean it's not bloody cold…'
He thought miserably. Nevertheless, he still walked, the September winds blowing at his now, short hair.The two strands in front brushed against his face in a dance of apprehension.
Tonight was the night…
Tonight was the night that he would finally find out what exactly is going on. Thus, it was the night that he had been waiting for…
Looking up, Owen put on his toughest face before sticking his hands in his pockets and pulling out a single stick of gum. Owen was never very fond of the sweet gummy substance, but then again…
Tonight, he was not Owen, was he…
He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing uncaringly before sticking his hands back into his large pockets like the rebel he was becoming.
He eyed the old sign above him, the dingy green of the letters blending in almost perfectly with the dark smut around it.
'Miller's Inn'
If he remembered correctly, this place had been out-of-business for at least forty years now, him being there to see it come and go. Now it stood abandoned, falling apart, and boarded up. Never meant to be used again…
However, tonight, that would not be the case.
Owen stepped forward and into the beam of the nearby street light. Before him stood the boarded up entrance way, formally pried open by one person or the other, and tagged…
"Vampires Enter Here"
A red arrow pointed to the entrance way, it being one of the many other random pieces of graffiti on the board as well. Thus, it proved rather ingenious. The fact that there being vampires was so un-believed it made the very obvious and true note…unbelievable. Meaning, it would have been looked at as random, babble of nonsense by all, except for those that knew what to look for, and what exactly it meant.
Owen stepped into the dark entry way, having to step over the high boards as well as duck under the low boards in order to get in. But once in, he was not disappointed.
"Vampires This Way"
Owen followed the florescent arrow, it being the only color, hence, obvious thing in the old, dark and dank room. Finding himself in an abandoned hallway, he could only guess that this hallway lead to the rooms of the old inn, the pictures on the walls telling the tale. People smiling, laughing as if portraying the happiness that would come with just spending one night in the place. Now that story was old, worn and untold as the pictures lay in at least forty years of dust and debris making them seem rather spooky in comparison. Owen walked past those pictures, barely sparing a glance in their direction and instead followed the hallway all the way down, only to come to a dead end.
'That's odd…'
Hesitantly, Owen began to examine the boarded off passage way in front of him. His hands slid from crevice to crevice looking for something, anything, to hint it's open way.
He frowned.
Nothing.
"Well, what now?"
He backed away from the wall, not at all certain as to what he should do now.
'Maybe I made a wrong turn somewhere…'
'Wrong turn? You only made two, and both of them were directed.'
Owen sighed, there was no possible way he could have made a wrong turn, but he still found himself at a dead end. However, just as he was beginning to contemplate backtracking, he spotted something. On the wall adjacent to the boarded wall was a small note, barely visible, but it was there.
"Push Me"
Owen frowned. Was this what he was looking for? Well, having nothing to lose, he brought up a single hand and pressed lightly, and then heavily on the spot in the wall. Almost with no fight whatsoever, the spot gave way, a door way opening from the formally secure wall. Owen almost smiled at it's ingenuity. However, that smile did not last long.
As soon as the stepped through the open door, it closed right behind him, leaving him in pitch blackness.
But not for long…
There was a flash of light before it went dark again. But it was enough for Owen to know his fate. In those microsecond of sight Owen was able to see the contents of the room, but not before spotting the air-born barbed arrow.
Of which, now came straight for his head!
Donatello sighed from his spot on the roof top, the chilly wind playing with his bandana tails as he looked over the roof's edge. Owen had disappeared into that said building nearly a minute ago, and now he sat in watch.
But he was not the only one.
"Donny? Donny! Anything yet?"
Donny held the modified turtle-com to his mouth, his lips barely moving as he responded.
"No nothing yet, Raph. I think it's time to move on to Phase II."
The telecommunication device found his belt once again as he resumed scanning the ground below him for anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, and almost as an afterthought, the device buzzed as the others responded accordingly.
"Alright, Donny-boy."
"Rodger that Donny."
"Okie, Dokie Artichoke-ie!"
There were three gusts of wind, three shadows in the darkness of the rooftop as the three brothers moved from their respective spots of espionage to join their now placid brother.
Donatello, however, did not move from his perch as the shadows hummed behind him. Instead, he only settled for sitting cross-legged on the stone ground as he removed his turtle-com from his belt for the umpteenth time that night.
"Donny?" Leo stepped forward.
"Shh!"
Donatello furrowed his brows in concentration as he worked the device, a series of beeps admitting from the small machine as if it were a toy. Raph, and then Michelangelo, removed themselves from the shadows as well, joining their older brother in peering over Donatello's shoulder as he worked.
Patiently, they all waited, not really sure as to what Don was up to, but having confidence in him all the same. And as usual, their confidence was not misplaced.
It was only a matter of seconds…
"Yes!" He whispered into the air as he finally held up the completed program, a rather wide grin spreading over his wide green face. "I….am a genius."
At his self-proclamation the rest of the turtles ignored him, rather used to his 'antics' as they leaned closer. Faintly, but still loud enough to be heard, the sounds of light breathing flowed from the green com in Don's grasp.
And in response, there was a heavy silence as they all listened.
That is until it was finally interrupted by none other than the ultimate interrupter-er himself…Michelangelo.
"Um,…this is all interesting and all, but um…what, exactly, is that?"
Michelangelo scratched his head, perplexed as the others seemed to nod in agreement. They were just as clueless, making Donatello huff at their ignorance, but he clarified his device's readings nonetheless.
"It's Owen." He stated, a small smile spreading on his beak. "I placed a small but powerful microphone in his clothing. So small and so well concealed, in fact, that it's barely even noticeable! And thanks to you guys, he has no idea!" Donatello grinned in pride of his new invention. Meanwhile, the turtles around him soaked in the new bit of information. It wasn't as if they were completely unaware of the plans, all of them having some part in it with the preparation of Owen, but just the small details they were ignorant of, some more informed than others. Well, at least that was the case until now…
"So, everything that's goin' on in there, we can hear from out here and through your Turtle-com." Raph stated, rather than asked, a small grin growing on his beak as well. And in response, Donatello nodded, his own grin growing wider with the understanding of his brothers.
However, Michelangelo still seemed rather clueless, and it showed, his own furrowed eye-ridges and relative silence speaking volumes for his understanding.
"So…that's Owen. And…he's in there. And…even though he's in there, we're hearing him out here…"He summarized, taking in each part step by step before grinning as well. "Too cool!"
Raph nodded, voicing his praises for the purple-wearing-brain-child as well. "Yeah, good work, Donny!"
Donatello beamed inwardly suddenly growing bashful at all of the praises he was receiving. And in response to the sudden turn of events, he began to babble, not being completely used to such attention or acclaim.
"W-well, it was Leo's idea. See, he was really the mastermind. Heck, I just put it together…Not very hard, really-"
Donny's babbling was cut short, however, as he was suddenly interrupted by a quiet exclamation from his brother in blue.
"He's talking." Leo hissed. Instantly, Donatello fell silent as he and his brothers listened intently to the com in his hands. And just as Leonardo warned, as soon as he had quieted, Owen's deep but quiet voice flowed from the green gadget as he talked to himself.
"Well, what now?"
Each of the turtles waited patiently as a silence followed, only to be replaced by the slide of wall against wall.
"A trap door?" Michelangelo asked. His brothers shrugged at his inquiry, but stayed silent in hopes of not missing whatever little sounds that came from Owen's surroundings or Owen himself.
And like always, they did not have to wait long.
Suddenly, there was a "phiff" as something rush though the air Owen was in. At the sound all four of the turtles' stiffened, recognizing the sound almost immediate. Fighting for almost all of the years of their lives opened them up to the experience of fighting against every weapon imaginable.
Arrows being one of them…
"But why would someone be shooting at him? I thought he was going to be one of the-"
"Shut up, Mikey!" Raph snarled, also apprehensive over the entire thing, but not one to voice his feelings out loud. Donatello and Leonardo also seemed rather uneasy, their training telling them that Owen was under attack, but their common sense telling them that he wasn't. However, Owen's next words seemed to clear everything up once and for all, willing the turtles back from their panic.
"A test…It was only a test."
"A test…It was only a test." He whispered to himself, more to calm his nerves than anything else. In his hands he held the arrow, barbed and ribbed, of which, only seconds earlier had been poised to kill. Now it lay in his palms, motionless and just as harmless.
Owen blinked as the lights flickered on, showing the complete room and all that he had missed earlier. On the other end of this hallway lay a crossbow, it being the source of the former attack. But that was not what caught Owen's attention first.
It seemed that the arrow's attack was only a test of sorts, a test that only the good or the best fighters cold pass. Evade the arrow, and live to continue. But fail the test, and you lose your life as well. Around him lay several corpuses, all of which with an arrow straight through the cranium. They all came to the test and failed, falling prey to the arrow. Owen knelt down, and out of pure curiosity, he examined the corpses carefully…
Just as he thought.
Human.
They were all human.
This was a test, a test of mortality. If the person entering were what they said they were, even if the arrow had hit them, it wouldn't have done much damage for all the vampire had to do was rip it out and continue on his way.
However, humans were not so lucky…
It seemed that a few straggles had followed the signs in hopes of finding a good time in being somewhere they were not supposed to, but found death instead. On the ground their corpses lay, kids mostly, a hole through their head as well as their throats slashed and their blood drained.
Now those were definitely the works of vampires. Possibly passerby-ers who came not to long after their deaths while the blood was still good.
And feasted for the night…
Leaving their pale, purple-lipped corpses behind; bloodless, and not a drop remaining.
Owen soaked in the scene silently. On the inside, he felt remorse for the human punks, as well as anger, but knowing who he was and who he needed to be, on the outside his face was as cold as frigid ice.
They
could be watching, so even here, keeping up appearance was a must.Owen stood then, absently smoothing out his black pants as he did. With a flick of his hair, he wafted the hair away from his eyes as he coldly side-stepped the courses. Nosily smacking his gum, he walked down the long corroder, the chain and pendent around his neck rustling lightly as he made way down and to the next message.
'The true go here'
Dropping the arrow, he spared a stray glance over to the crossbow, noticing that it had already been automatically reset with a new dagger of destruction.
How sadistic, but that was what these people were known for.
The best he could do now was continue, and find out as much as he could…so he could take this operation down from the inside out.
Straighten his cloths and jewelry as well as his hair, he went full blown 'punk' mode, uncaringly chewing at the now flavorless gum in his mouth as he strutted down the last and final corridor.
This was it. This was what he had been waiting for.
'Enter'
A 'pop' escaped him as he blew a small bubble before pushing open the heavy wooden door…
Only to be spewed out and right in the middle of the enemy.
Around him, people conversed among themselves, a bar having been set up to accommodate the numbers that were supposed to appear tonight. The people buzzed, each one of them talking of the events that were supposed to occur that night. However, and unlike the rest of the people there, conversing was the farthest thing from his mind. At that moment his thoughts seemed to revolve around one single idea…
He was here, and he was completely incognito, with no one the wiser…
So far, everything was going exactly as planned.
Owen smirked.
And he would have had it no other way.
Centrice sighed from her spot on the old but comfy couch. This is not what she had in mind for their night of adventure, but it was here that they had left her, despite her protests. She had nearly killed Donny when he said she would not be joining them that night. And it took all of her will power, (and a little of his) for her to keep from doing it, him physically grabbing her wrists as she finally lashed out at him in anger. She had wanted to scope out Owen's sting operation as well and probably even more than they did.
But between Donny's calm reassurance and Mikey's bouncing optimism, she was stuck here.
At home.
Alone.
With nothing to do, and nothing but anticipation for what was happening elsewhere. That had been over twenty minutes ago, but that didn't mean she couldn't still protest…
"This blows!"
If she was a kid, she would have thrown a temper tantrum, completely trashing the room she was in until the mess was equal or more than equivalent to her remaining anger.
However, she was not a kid…but that didn't mean she still couldn't throw a tantrum…
With a giant huff, she kicked out and at the piece of furniture before her, sending that corner of the coffee table skidding towards the television in fury.
"This Sucks!!!" She exclaimed, leaning back while crossing her arms in a huff. It was just soo unfair!
'You're acting like a child…'
He mind chided her. And it was true, she was acting like a spoiled child. A spoiled brat that could not get her way…'Well, if they didn't treat me like a child, I wouldn't have to act like one!'
She justified her actions, kicking at the other side of the table which, to her ironic demise, sent it completely out of her reach. Still, she didn't give up.
Lashing out with her legs, she kicked after the coffee table, but each time her sneaker-ed feet found nothing but air. Still she did not get up, staying planted rather stubbornly in her spot, but still kicking at the table regardless.
However, after a while, and after a few more stray kicks, she relaxed, huffing as she gave up. Her body now slouched in the couch, she pouted.
Until a slight ringing fell unto her ears.
"Huh?" She sat up then, her bad mood forgotten as she looked around for the ringing's source. She finally found it, the ringing originating from the kitchen and from a single, abandoned, turtle-com, left behind and forgotten on the old wooden table.
Hesitantly, she picked it up, eyeing it as it rang again. Well, what did she have to loose?…
After one more annoying noise of a ring, she did the most logical thing, and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Centrice?"
It was Donny.
"Hey, are you ok now?"
Tons of questions ran through her head, but she held off on asking them. Oh, she would ask them, but not until she had thoroughly and to her desire, given Donatello hell…
"Oh, I couldn't be better! What a great night at home, alone!" She forced, sarcasm dripping off the very letters in her speech. And in response, Don all but took it as such.
"You're still mad."
Not a question but a rather dry, obvious statement.She was furious.
"Of course I'm still mad!" She fumed, throwing her free hand to the air in emphasis. Not like he could see it or anything, but it was done regardless and with emotion. From the other side of the line, Donatello rolled his eyes.
"Centrice, we've been through this before! It's to-"
"It's too dangerous, and it is not safe for me to be out like this, Especially with this sort of operation!"
Donatello grimaced as she imitated his voice to the tee.
"You're acting childish."
He chided."Well, you started it!" She countered.
Donatello sighed, literally having had enough. If she could not just accept the fact that he kept her home because he did not want to see any harm come to her, then that was fine.
But right now, he didn't have the time to argue.
However, Centrice must have immediately sensed his sudden change of mood either from the pause in his voice, or from the sigh on his breath, for she quickly and suddenly changed subjects.
"How's Owen?" She asked, her voice going from that of royally pissed to royally interested, leaving Donatello blinking in it's wake.
If that wasn't sudden, he didn't know what was.
"He's…fine."
He stuttered, not really knowing how to react to the sudden but seemingly positive change in her demeanor. However, that seemed to be the right answer, for she continued just the same."Well, that's good. I was pretty worried about the guy since I was kept from being there!!!" She blew up.
However, this time, and for once, Donatello was not too far behind.
"Centrice, I Am Sorry!!" Don exploded then as well, his arms waving in emphasis as he continued. "Well, God forbid I am actually worried about you getting hurt! Geez, Centrice! Man, what do you think?! That I wanted to lock you up, leave you there by yourself, at that, just because I wanted to "keep you out of it?!" Well, I'm sorry, but that's just not the case! We all are in very grave danger just being here, damnit! This isn't a game, this is real! Real dangers, real consequences, real life! And besides, I-I…" Losing all momentum, he stopped his rant slowing to a stop as he heaved a tired sigh. "I just couldn't live with myself if something happened to you…" He mumbled, ending his speech all together.
Three pairs of eyes watched him from the roof top's edge as a silence echoed from Raph's turtle-com, of which, Donatello now used to call Centrice. In reality, the only turtles that actually still had their turtle-coms available were Leonardo and Raphael, Mikey having left his behind for Centrice without her knowledge. The whole thing had been Donatello's idea, not able to sit with the fact that Centrice would be left home alone, but unable to tell her of the turtle-com due to their prior argument.
And now, he waited, the sound of Owen's distant breathing still echoing from his own com as Centrice's breathing echoed from the one he held. If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't have been able to tell that she was still even there.
She was.
But that was it.
"Centrice?"
He asked. All of the anger left his body, being replaced instead with the familiar flutter of worry in his chest. "Centrice? Are you alright?"From the other side of the line, Centrice could do nothing but sit there. Never had he talked to her like that before , never. He was always the quiet type when he was mad, not speaking or speaking very little when she had pushed him too far.
However, this was completely new, unsettling, and not to mention a bit scary.
She felt tears jerk at the back of her vision, but she did not let them fall. Instead, she took a deep breath as the anger left her as well. If he was this upset about it, then maybe she had over-reacted. He really was just trying to protect her from harm, and all she did was just give him a hard time….
Which wasn't really the right thing to do.
"Donny, listen, I'm sorry…I-I…I…"
"Centrice..."
Don muttered, cutting her off. He really didn't need her apology. He knew her well enough to know when she was sorry, and these were one of those times. She was and always had been rather…difficult…her being one to hold a grudge. But now he could tell that all was forgiven, her attempted apology being a clue if nothing else was. "I just wanted to check up on you, that's why I asked Mikey to leave his com at home, so that I could."Centrice soaked in the new bit of information, a few of the puzzle pieces falling together at it's meaning. Meanwhile, and on the other side of the line, Donatello continued.
"Centrice, I love you, ok? Don't forget that…"
He whispered, turning away as the 'guys' began to snicker. On the other end of the phone, Centrice smiled a little as his voice carried to her, and in response she couldn't help but giggle. Every time they argued, in the end, they always made amends, him reminding her of his undying love, and her not killing him. Now she smiled, unable to keep her school girl giddiness out of her voice as she responded."I love you too, Donny. And, I won't…"
Donatello grinned. Everything was definitely ok now.
"Ok, well. I can't really tell you when we will be getting home. Hopefully this won't be an all-nighter, but when we do, I guess I will be seeing you then."
He concluded, ending rather breathless, his voice quiet as he concluded their conversation.Centrice, in turn, also went quiet as she responded.
"Ok, Donny. Love you. Bye." She clicked off the communicator, it going dead on Donny's line as well. With a sigh, he pulled it away from his ear to look at it before journeying over to his brothers. Meanwhile, and with slight grins, they watched him approach their small huddle only to squeeze between the lot of them and take his place once again in the center, tactlessly snatching his communicator away from and out of Michelangelo's grasp.
Their snickers resonated in his ears, but he ignore them, and instead he focused on the immediate on the task before them.
"How is Owen?"
Nevertheless, the snickers continued, accompanied by a nudge every now and then. Meanwhile, and as it was, Leonardo seemed to be the only one actually willing to answer him.
"He's ok. I think he's in now."
Random voices flowed from the com, but that was all Donatello was able to here before his ability to listen was rudely cut off by a rather obnoxious, Brooklyn-accent, voice.
"Yeah, like how you're gonna be 'in' when we get back. Ain't that right Lover-boy!"
Raph and Mike snickered to themselves as they exchanged glances as well as nudges. Donatello heard their laughter and frowned, his voice flat and emotionless as he responded accordingly.
"Raphael? Shut up. It would do the world a great service. Really."
Owen strode into the dark and murky setting, soaking in the faces all around him. All of them looked familiar, meaning, all of them were criminals of one sort or another. And he couldn't help but smiled. The bounties in this room alone was uncountable, each and every person here, having some kind of record.
Owen began to head toward the bar, but before he could take another step a man intercepted him by suddenly walking by, his form lanky but muscular as he brushed through the crowd and away from Owen's immediate point of view.
In his mind, and with the ease of the skilled and seasoned Bounty-hunter, he recognized the man immediately and completely from memory.
Leonard Kilburn
Born: October 9, 1944
POB: Oxford, Mississippi
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 141 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Wanted for crimes against Humanities Rights Law #315
Now with the freedom of passage, Owen strode over to the bar as he eyed his surroundings. Sitting, he watched the people, but before he could turn around to even face the bar behind him, his thoughts were already almost immediately interrupted by a voice in the same direction.
"What's you're drink, bub?"
Turning, Owen faced the bar for the first time that night, only to meet the gaze of the barkeep. Behind the bar a short man stood, his skin well tanned, his hair bleached and pulled back into a rather long ponytail. Meanwhile, his eyes almost seemed to glow a deep emerald green as he patiently waited for Owen's order.
However, Owen knew this man as well…
Ashley Young
Born: August 27, 1936
POB: Dartford, UK
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 116 lbs
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Varies
Wanted for assisted escape of a Fugitive
Wanted for crimes against Humanities Rights Law #129
'Well there's definitely a theme…'
"Ah, No thanks. I'm good." He declined, raising a hand slightly, and in response, the bar keeper only shrugged before moving on. Owen leaned back, attempting to look 'cool' as Michelangelo would put it, as he scoped out his surroundings. Groups of people sat in packs as they talked and chatted amongst themselves. Literally dozens of bounty heads occupied this single room, each one more promising than the next. And even now, there were more coming in. Ever so often, one more soul would enter from the door way, having passed the test, but other than that, it was already what seemed to be a full house.
And as it was, all of them seemed to be there for one purpose, and one purpose alone.
"Hey, did you hear? They say that tonight the guy that called us all here will speak."
"That sounds kind of boring to me…"
"But not when it's all against AVTech. They are planning a giant rebellion against those pansies. Finally, we, the true vampires, will rule this pathetic world. Or at least, that's what I heard…"
Owen listened to the general buzz around him, and soaked it in, gaining some of the information he was after just by the various hear say in the room. It seemed that tonight some speaker was supposed to talk; some speaker promising these lowly souls power, in the form of domination…
Which was definitely something not to ignore. Who ever this speaker was, he was definitely dangerous, just with that statement alone.
He was an enemy of AVtech, thus, and enemy of Owen himself.
However, before he could analyze the situation any further, his thoughts were once again interrupted by a voice.
However, and unlike last time, it was a feminine voice.
"I don't remember seeing you around here, stranger…"
Perfect canines gleamed from under the puffy red lips of a perfect face. Well, not quite. A single, nearly black, scar ran down her face, beginning at her left eye before crossing the bridge of her nose and ending at the cheek of the right.
He almost smiled.
Oh, he knew this face well…
Felicity Angelica Faith
Born: December 25, 1643
POB: Unknown
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 119 lbs
Eye Color: Varies
Hair Color: Black
Wanted for illegal smuggling of goods
Charged for the Evasion of Arrest for his crimes against Humanities Rights Law #362
Wanted for the aided escape of thirty five convicts from the Vampireic Penitentiary of Manhattan
She had what bounty hunters like Owen would call 'a full plate.' If caught, the reward could be very generous…but only if caught. One of the main reasons the reward was so high was because of her years of elusion, her seemingly being almost impossible to catch. And at this thought, he couldn't help but smirk.
'Right into the spider's fangs the fly crawls. Predator to prey, the spider eats…'
"Well, I am relatively new here... Never really been to anything like this before…"
Being one of his honor, he was not a liar. Telling the truth came all too easy for him.
Besides, the truth always worked better than any lie…
And like silk, she responded, seemingly sliding closer to him as she peered from her orbs into his.
"Well, that's obvious…" She muttered, her mouth barely moving as she leaned forwards, her lips mere inches from his own. 'If I had seen you before, you would have already been mine.'
He was temporarily thrown off by her obvious and outlandish flirtation, but did not lose control. She leaned closer into him, her full intention to explore his mouth with her own, but before their lips were even able to meet, he turned away. Outward, he was apathetic.
However, inwards, he was appalled. Never had he met someone so…free…in his long life. Back in his day, she would have been considered a harlot, a concubine.
However, times do change.
Nowadays she was just considered a plain old whore, a prostitute…
A Vamp.
He looked her over, his eyes observing her from in the darkness of the bar.
Yup, definitely whore material.
At most she probably only wore at least two pieces of clothing. One of which being a skin tight leather pants that she seemingly poured herself into. The other…A nearly see-through mesh top. Although it was black, and it "covered" all, it still could be classified as a top that left nothing to the imagination. He wanted to grimace at her state, but didn't. Instead, he turned away, seeming ignoring her. That is, until he finally opened his mouth to speak one more time, his face still away from her in disregard.
"What's your name, princess?"
Although he did not want to lead her on, it would be preferable to meet an acquaintance here, but only for the information they could provide.
And this might just be that acquaintance…
At his question, the woman seemed to smirk, her eyes glowing knowledgeably as she moved from the bar, only to join him on the other side in order to meet his straying gaze. Then and only then did she finally respond, her voice as smooth and as sweet as chocolate in the presence of the hunk of a man.
"My…friends call me Fai…and yours?"
He paused at her answer, his mind going silently confused for a split second before understanding. He knew for a fact that her name was Felicity, but he humored her, going for the shortened name of her last, Fai.
Well, he could be humored as well…
"O'."
She blinked, her painted brows furrowing as she leaned in closer to hear him.
"What?" She asked, visibly confused.
Nevertheless, Owen restated his answer, his own eyes going knowledgeable as he smirked at the irony of it all.
"Well, my friends, call me O'." He declared, his voice sly at it's hidden meaning. However, and just as he suspected, it was all but lost to her, there not being enough connections between his former self and current state to start any suspicions whatsoever, her next question being all the proof he needed of the fact.
"O?"
Her voice was questioning, but he nodded regardless, his smile growing wider by the second at the true success of their plan.
He was in!
"Yes, O'."
Ok, what do you think? R and R. More to come, so keep watch.
