"Yar-har-har" is from Epicnamebro, during a run thru he did of this game. It cracked me up so much, I decided to reuse it. Check out his walkthroughs for Bloodborne if you're having any problems. They're very good.
[-][-][-][-][-]
"Aren't you a Vileblood?"
They were back at the Workshop. She was perched on top of the books in next to the workbench, her head on the palm of her bent arm, leaning on the edge, watching him fiddle with his cleaver.
"That…is a difficult question to answer."
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Count Mysterious."
"I should have never told you that."
"Too late, Count of Monte Crisco. You've opened the flood gates, now suffer the consequences."
He sighed, irritated. Still, he was glad things were back to normal with her. Her melancholy had the tendency to eat at him, and she had remained depressed for a good bit after their return from the college. He had no idea that his death had such an effect on her. It was rather a pleasant feeling, knowing that another cared for you.
"To answer your question, technically, yes. I did consume the Queen's blood."
A devious smile formed on her lips, and she tilted her head to the side, seductively. "Well, well…do tell. This sounds quite spicy."
He looked up at her, a serious expression on his face. "Somehow, I doubt that it would be as 'spicy' as you're eluding to." He looked back down at his weapon. He had found a new blood gem, with better properties. Removing them was slightly tedious, though. "She offered some of her blood in a glass, and I drank it."
Natalie gagged. "I called it. Vampire."
"What is a vampire?"
She jumped off the pile of books, and picked up the Blade of Mercy he had out. His loss to the invader left a bitter sting. His primary weapon was not as quick and agile, and he found himself quickly losing. It was worth the effort to perfect his skill with the Blade. She waved it around, looking at it in different angles.
"Well…it's really, a legend. A mythological being. Humans that drink blood to survive, and are immortal."
He stopped, and turned to her. "Mythological?"
She was yanking on the handle. "Oh yeah, none of that shit is real. Well…" she looked around. "I guess here, it is. There are different versions of what vampires are, how they act, feed, and how you become one. Various rules, like: you can't hang out in daylight, the ole 'stake through the heart' mumbo-jumbo…garlic."
She was flinging it harshly, in frustration.
"Then there's all the hidden, sexual connotations with it. A vampire represents this sort of, forbidden, lust. Some stories get pretty racy and graphic."
He stood up, walking to her.
"Your presumption has been that I am a vampire, then?"
"Yep." She gave the blade another shake. "Look, how the hell does it do that awesome "split into two" thing? I saw that shithead do it."
She looked up and startled, moving backwards slightly, as he followed.
"Which part gives away my nature, my lady? The blood drinking…" His face came within an inch of hers. "Or lust?"
She stared at him…her eyes wide open, glancing back and forth. Her pulse sped up, and she laughed nervously. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent.
Opening them, he snatched the Blade of Mercy from her hand. "This is an ancient, trick weapon. Its origins dictate an even older lineage. The metals used are found in specific meteorites. It is extremely difficult to modify."
He held the blade, and placed his thumb over a small plate in the handle, flicking his wrist, as it split in two. He pulled the daggers apart with expert precision, twirling one in his palm.
"The Hunter that uses this blade, must be fast and deadly accurate. It allows no mistakes, but rewards skill unlike any other. I am, unfortunately, not as agile as this weapon demands. It will take time before I can wield it proficiently."
He connected the ends, twisting his wrist in one fluid motion, as the daggers folded in upon themselves, reshaping into the blade. He handed it back to her, an intense look in his eyes, as he nodded for her to take it. She cautiously put her hand around the hilt.
He returned to his previous task, prodding at the chamber which held a blood gem.
"Oww", he heard metal hit the ground. "I…need to stop playing with that."
The scent assaulted his nostrils, almost immediately. The beast was agitated. He heard her walk up next to him, and saw her form reposition itself back on the stack of books. Her thumb was in her mouth, as she sucked.
He licked his lips.
"Is that a blood gem?"
His eyes never deviated from her mouth. "Yes."
"Oh! Remember when I told you about making bets with stones? Here…"
She jumped off and headed towards her section of the shop. He heard the clinking of items. She walked back, waiving her thumb in the air, blowing on it, making a face and returning it to her mouth. She came up next to him and threw five blood gems on the table.
"Enjoy. One's a triangle. I thought that was pretty neat."
He picked one up, examining the cut. They were…
"Where did you get these?"
She waived her hand dismissively. "Around the shop here. I got bored and decided to dig holes one day."
He laughed.
[-]
"This place reeks of Dracula. More so than you, and that's saying a lot, Count. And what's with all the half-naked statues? Should we not blink?"
He looked at her, confused.
"Weeping angels?" Her eyes looked at him, with an expected recognition.
He raised an eyebrow.
A figure moved in the distance, and he saw a bloodlicker make its way towards them. He snapped his wrist, and the saw cleaver expanded. He turned around to see Natalie running in a full sprint in the other direction.
He sighed, and dodged forward, impaling the bloated licker on his cleaver. Twisting sideways, he carved a pathway through its swollen abdomen, as blood poured out, coating his entire body. The beast screamed, curling in on itself.
He breathed in, aroused by the smell of blood.
He snapped his weapon back into its folded position, and headed in the direction of his skittish female companion. Heading through the main gate, he saw her standing at the edge of the broken bridge. To her left was the dilapidated carriage that had carried him there, with the long dead horse corpses, frozen.
He confidently walked towards her, down the many steps, his footsteps coated in blood. The bloodlicker had been near full; having feasted on countless corpses. He licked his lips; it had been too long since he had come to Cainhurst.
He stopped behind Natalie a few feet away, patiently waiting.
"This…this isn't good. How did you even get here? We need to hide, though, and fast. I can't keep my eyes open much longer, they burn." She turned around, and stepped back in shock.
"Whoa! What the hell happened to you?"
He merely grinned under the cloth that covered his face.
She gave him a disgusting look. "God, you really have a problem. Here, give me your glasses." She swiped them off his face, and pulled out one of her handkerchiefs, wiping the blood off.
"This is so gross. I'm going to end up with hepatitis C, I swear." She held them up to the sky again. "Well, at least it's not weeping angels. We would have been completely fucked."
She handed him back his glasses, sighing. He grabbed her hand, covering it in blood. She gagged, flicking it to the side, and giving him a disgusted look.
"You are one sick fuck…" She walked past him, vigorously wiping her hand off, noticeably irritated. He laughed.
"What's wrong, little girl…scared of blood."
She froze. It appeared that "the beast" had come out to play, again. She wasn't sure how to control the "episodes", or what to do to get him to snap out of it. She was concerned this would happen, and memories of when he had her up against the tree came to the forefront of her mind. They were at the "Vilebloods" place of residence, after all.
She looked up the steps. The lamppost was a long distance away. If she ran, it would set him off. She had to keep her pulse calm. She took a deep breath and casually proceeded forward. "Not scared. More like…concerned. There are many diseases you can contract by touching other people's blood." She focused on talking scientifically, it helped keep her nerves under control.
She didn't hear him following behind her, and she kept her pace. She was whistling the Andy Griffith tune, thinking back to when she would sit on the living room floor, in her pajamas, while her and her brother watched reruns. It brought a smile to her lips.
She succeeded making it to the top where the large doors were cracked opened. Peeking through the doors, she saw the warm glow of the lamppost. She sighed, relieved. She turned around. He was…gone.
Her pulse sped up. Shit. "Alex?"
She felt a hot breath whisper in her ear. "Even covered in blood, I still crave yours…your smell, it is tantalizing."
He stepped in front of her, leaning in. Her eyes carefully watched him, noting the red glaze that burned behind the brown.
"I smell your fear. Your heart pumps faster. You sweet blood flows through you, even more excited." He ripped his hat off in one move, throwing his glasses and the face covering to the ground. Dried blood was caked around his eyes, and small rivers of it had poured down his cheeks. His slicked back hair had become wild and some of it draped across his left eye.
He leaned in, sniffing her neck, and running a tongue across the vein that throbbed subtly. She sucked in a breath and instinctively stepped backwards. He kept pace, looming over her until her back felt the cold stone wall of the castle.
"Where are you going to run to now?"
He reached under her thighs and lifted her up harshly. She grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to keep from toppling over. The scent of leather and musk entered her nostrils, and she placed her hand on his head, closing her eyes. She accepted her fate.
He returned his mouth back to her neck, running his tongue over the even more rapid throbbing of the vein. His canines scrapped the delicate skin, as he thrusted his hips up. She gasped and let loose a quiet moan. A new scent danced across his senses, and he closed his eyes, breathing it in deep. She was aroused. The smell was even more alluring than her blood, and he craved it.
A claw formed, and he slid the hand back, trying to dig into more of her flesh. A painful shriek tore through her throat. His eyes opened wide, as the red haze instantly disappeared and he dropped her on the ground, hearing a loud thud, followed by a groan. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing at the portion of her that had the burn from the Tonitrus.
"Jesus, that hurt…" She awkwardly stumbled past him, not even making eye contact. Her face was flushed, and blood was smeared all over the front of her outfit. He ran his hand over his face, biting his fist in frustration. He had no control over it. It was simply a matter of time…
But where could he take her? Who would look after her? She would think that she had been abandoned. Guilt flooded his emotions, and he sagged his head, picking up his hat and glasses, and rearranging them on his face. He looked up at her. She was taking handfuls of snow and trying to wipe off the blood, flinging it off on the wall.
"So gross…"
He made his way to her, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. He pointed to the side of the outer walls of the castle. "There is an elevator that leads to a short cut."
She started to head in that direction, deep in thought. She wasn't sure what to do, and her thinking was muddled. His "beast personality" functioned on a more primeval level: it wanted to kill, or fuck, anything that moved. What's shocking is that she made the split decision to go along with it. She internally chided herself. It was more important than ever that she keep her wits about her.
They walked onto the elevator, and he stepped on a raised tile with his boot. She felt the jerk of the pulley system, as air suddenly rushed down on her. Eventually, they arrived to the top, and she stepped off into an exquisite room, full of ornate bookshelves, and dining tables. The ceiling was at least thirty feet above her head. Massive engravings, of gold and silver, decorated everything.
"Wow." She stood staring, her mouth wide open.
Alex grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him, and off to the side, avoiding the wandering glare of a Silver Lady that roamed in the room ahead. He touched her shoulder, leaning in to make eye contact. His saddened brown eyes connected with hers.
She looked back at him, confused. "Did I do something wrong?"
He sighed, as he kept his grip on her shoulder. "Natalie…you never do anything wrong." He took in a deep breath, glancing around, before returning his eyes to hers. "I need you to be careful. Stay close to me, at all times. This place is incredibly dangerous."
He was back to normal. She shot him a smirk. "Ah, another Yar-har-har deal. It's ok, if we come across any Hunters, I'll make sure to take care of them for you."
He gave her an incredulous look.
"Come on."
She was still quietly chuckling when he yanked her behind him.
[-]
Alex wasn't the only one with mental problems.
The blonde, that had flirted with her last month, was standing in front of them, covered in blood and chunks of, what was, a person. He donned some sort of a gold, pyramid helmet. Over his arm was a large wheel, dripping in bits of flesh and organs. He kept raving about how his master had been redeemed, and something about grinding a siren into a pink pulp. She looked past him on one of the throne chairs. It looked like a body had exploded. She dry heaved, and put the back of her hand up to her mouth.
Pyramid Head + Executioner + Dead bodies = Silent Hill. She was in Silent Hill. Instead of sirens, you got bells.
Alex went to step towards him, and she snatched his arm, shaking her head feverishly. She jerked her head backwards a few times, indicating that they should leave. He shook his head 'no', and padded her hand. She reluctantly let go of his arm.
Alfred saw him approach.
"Oh, you, is it? Look at this! Thanks to you, I've done it! Well? Isn't it wonderful?"
He looked at the remains of Annalise, scattered across her throne.
"Now Master can be canonized as a true martyr! Ha ha ha! I've done it, I have!" He gave a roaring sound, intermixed within laughter.
Natalie was completely freaked out. This guy wasinsane…like, more so than usual for this place. Alex motioned for her to come towards him. She shook her head feverishly. No way.
Alfred noticed the motion, and waived at her.
"My dear lady, welcome! Welcome to the glorious victory of the Executioners!"
She cringed and clapped a little, flashing a pained smile. "Yay…"
He went back to laughing like a maniac, and Alex motioned her towards him again. She cautiously kept to the side, squeezing in between some of the billion statues that littered the room, eventually coming up behind Alex, to his right. She turned to look at the throne.
She squinted her eyes. The flesh…it was…moving? She grabbed Alex's arm, and pointed at it. He leaned in, trying to follow what she was pointing at. His eyes finally caught sight of the pink flesh, as it slowly expanded.
She was immortal. But…how to return her as before? While he did not particularly care for Annalise, her covenant offered some occasional benefits. He walked over to the throne, examining the moving flesh.
"Natalie, hand me one of your handkerchiefs."
She looked at him like he was crazy. "No…fucking…way."
He stuck his hand out and wiggled his fingers. She rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets and pulling out, no less than, five large pieces of cloth. He looked down at the bundle she placed in his hand, and raised an eyebrow.
"It'll be like greasy take-out. Make sure you wrap it a few times, so it doesn't leak everywhere."
[-]
She stared at the moving flesh in the glass jar.
"Do we like…need to talk to it?"
She was leaning on the table, on her elbows, slowly turning the jar around. It was fascinating and disgusting, all at the same time. Alex was bent over the workbench, as usual. She glanced over at him.
"You're going to develop back problems, you know."
She heard a chuckle. Rolling her eyes, she went back to staring at the jar. Footsteps made their way near her, and a hand touch the back of her chair. He leaned in over her shoulder, his breath tickling her ear. The smell of a muted spice swayed across her senses.
She glanced up. He was staring intently on the jar, his eyes somewhat squinted. Did he always smell like that? No, because this smelled good.
"I…don't think she is conscious. Merely, alive, in the most basic sense." He looked down at Natalie, and grinned. "Trust me, you would not enjoy the company of this woman."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know that?"
He nicked her chin. "Because, I know you." He stood up straight, and headed back to the workbench.
"How are you going to resurrect her?"
Some metal clinked on the table, and she stood up, walking towards him, perching herself up on the stack of books next to the bench. She put her elbow on the table, and her head on her palm, looking at the weapon he was fiddling with. It was a heavily decorated sword.
"There is something I had stumbled across before, when I first saw Ebrietes."
"Who?"
He glanced up. "Another Kin of the Great Ones. Left behind, long ago."
"Is he still around?"
"She…is dead."
Natalie frowned. She reached out, running her fingers along the beautiful inlays on the hilt of the sword.
"So where to next?"
He glanced up at her face again. Her eyes remained on the Reiterpallasch.
"You seem content to become a permanent travel companion, I have noticed."
She grinned, following an engraving up the hilt. This thing was expensive, no doubt. "It's better than sitting here on my ass, staring at the wall."
He chuckled. "Well put, my lady." He noticed the trick function had been damaged. It would require substantial repair. He picked up a rag, swiping it between his hands.
"However, I cannot take you where I am headed to. Not yet, at least. I could not assure your safety."
She frowned. He reached out, and put his thumb and finger under her chin, rubbing the smooth skin.
"This is a place beyond any horrors I have seen. You have a soft-heart."
She gave him a skeptical look. "Soft-heart? Because I went into shock after watching you die for the second time? Would it be better if a cracked a beer open and propped my feet up on your corpse?"
He nicked her chin, and tapped her mouth. "This…needs a restraint."
She laughed.
"I do have a favor to ask of you, if I may?"
She rolled her eyes, and stuck her arm out. "Drain away."
[-]
"Ahh, Kos, or some say Kosm... Do you hear our prayers?"
The Reiterpallasch was gripped in his hand, as the Host of the Nightmare made his grandiose introduction.
Alex had killed the Orphan of Kos, only after injecting himself with two vials of Natalie's blood. He regenerated his wounds at the same rate that he was receiving them, making him nigh indestructible. It had been a grueling fight, and one he took no pleasure in. Watching the wretched thing crawl itself out of its dead mother was beyond dreadful. The cry the Orphan gave caused him to die a little on the inside.
Yet, the nightmare beckoned an ending, as do all. Sometimes, only upon death, can one truly awaken.
"She does not, Micolash."
The Host turned towards him, his insane expression amplified by the Mensis Cage. His eyes wide with temporary panic, and his mouth contorted into a sneer.
"No, we shall not abandon the dream."
"All dreams end…"
His eyes were delirious, as his mouth hung partially open in a permanent mocking grin.
"No one can catch us! No one can stop us now!"
The madman took off, heading down one of the hallways. Alex's prey drive kicked in, and the red haze of his vision narrowed in on Micolash. He took a sharp right, heading off in a different direction at an intersection. Alex growled in frustration.
He jerked his arm down, transforming the Reiterpallasch into a firearm. He took a shot and hit the maniac. Micolash stumbled for a bit, and took another sharp left. A small trail of blood formed, and Alex quickly followed in pursuit.
He finally chased him into a larger room, that had mirrors. A gate fell behind him, and Micolash used an Augur of Ebrietas, sending a massive wave of large tentacle towards him. They caught him off guard, and he was sent backwards, slamming up against the wall. A mirror in the room rippled, and he saw Micolash step through, disappeared. Alex jumped up to ran off of him, and crashed into the mirror. Shards of glass cut his face, rendering an eye useless.
His left eye saw blood dripping on the floor. Above him on a balcony, he saw Micolash.
"Ah hah hah ha! Ooh! Majestic! A hunter is a hunter, even in a dream. But, alas, not too fast! The nightmare swirls and churns unending!"
He turned to walk off, as the room slowly filled with ethereal walkers. Alex hung his head low, patiently waiting for his eventual death by being torn apart. He would need time to figure out a strategy.
[-]
Alex had come back after being gone for a few weeks. She marked the days on her crude calendar on the wall. She had been displaced a few days, but it was nearing Christmas time back "home", so she had decorated the inside of the workshop in loops of different colored ribbon, and tied a few blood gems up, hanging them on a bush outside.
He had been in one of his "moods". The most recent expedition of his did not pan out like he thought. He had a different weapon on his table, meticulously making modifications of an obsessive nature. She had asked him a few times about going to Clinic, always receiving a "soon".
"Do you think we can go to Yharnam today?"
He threw his rag down. "Are you bloody daft? I said no!"
He turned away from her, while she stood there with an embarrassing blush spreading across her cheeks. She looked over at her corner of the shop. Gehrman had said she was strong enough to easily survive Central Yharnam at this point, maybe she needed to make a little trip…
She rummaged through her make shift dresser, and dug out the dead woman's outfit. She quietly unhooked her cane from the place on the wall, then slowly stepped out of the building, her arms full. She had given him another vial of her blood earlier, and he was preoccupied with it, noticing nothing.
Slinging her items on the rock wall by Ms. Dolly, she made a "shh" gesture, and proceeded to get changed.
Stretching her arms out, and moving her fingers in the leather gloves, she walked up to the first gravestone off the bottom steps. "Yharnam." Underneath were some additional locations chiseled in. Central Yharnam. This was it.
Stretching her arm out, she put her fingers on Central Yharnam. A low mist appeared, and the tiny hands of the zombies appeared. A few reached for her, excitedly.
"Central Yharnam, please." They bobbed their little heads up and down, and more tiny hands grabbed her outfit.
"Natalie! Wait!" Alex was sprinting out of the building. His hand reached for her, and swiped through air. She was gone.