Frost Wright.
"Take my Hand."
Disclaimer: Wow, you people actually liked what I wrote, Wowee! Now I guess I'll add a bit more from my role playing experiences with Victoria, and we'll see what goes on from there. Okay? Review please and let me know how badly I'm screwing up the characters! Oh yah, I don't own anyone here. And the new person Julian Greyshades is owned by my friend, Rose (The Dark Mechanic). Anyhow, enjoy.
Chapter: 1
New York. Most people come to think of this place as the 'only place to be'. In the minds of so many, there is this fantasy world of good or bad when regarding this state. Manhattan is mainly what people will think on. The dark yet crowded subways, broken down city streets and mob-gangs at every corner. Or in a more positive light, people saw fancy broad way shows, chipper patrons in central park, and the illusion that everyone is rich. While both extremes are easily mistaken, one can only say if they've been there. And what did Ceras Victoria think about it?
She hated it.
Hard enough for her being a vampire in a new country with no job, nor money, finding a place to sleep for the day without being disrupted was rather impossible. Nearly every nuke and cranny was filled with the homeless during the daylight hours, and even if she did find a warehouse, she found herself scrambling away when construction workers found use of the complex all over again. What did she do for blood? Yes, there were blood banks, but it seemed that their storages were rather low, and she never even so much as got to request for a packet before being crammed with a load of registration papers. After all, she was 'foreign'.
Regardless of life on the streets, she found no inner peace that she had once thought in escaping the land of London. The saying 'Out of sight, out of mind' was under rated, and the image of the tall dark vampire still plagued her mind as if it were branded to the back of her eye sockets. True, she had sworn she had seen him on the airplane in arriving at Kennedy Airport, but she did really believe that he would be here for her? Of course not, for as long as he had his new 'chyld' to brood over, she had no more place in his life, or anyone else's.
So where was our redhead now? Well, as the night had recently peeked over the industrial city sky, the girl had promptly crawled out of a small hobbled place made up from pieces of concrete, sheet metal and plywood. It wasn't anything like the nice padded coffin-bed she had to snooze in, but it was freedom. And Freedom was worth it, right?
" I swear, if I find one more rat trying to use my hair as a nest.." An extruded sigh fell from pale lips as Victoria had stood upwards and straight for the first time in the past ten or twelve hours. Her arms rose up and coiled over her head, hands softly patting at the bright orange tendrils to calm it from looking like a spiked Afro.
To say in the least, she didn't like where she was now. And she needed a status somewhat higher then an average bum. She had money, English money. And that was nearly no use. Especially when trying to convert an account to a name that's been labeled dead for the past six months. Disappearing from the world was one thing, but trying to get back into it was a task and a half. And she hasn't found that half much at all.
After a few dreary moments of silence, the girl had shifted to walk on, feeling as if her hygiene was at a negative number range, while her clothing was a bit scoffed up with dirt and grime. It also rained in New York quite often. Especially during it's winter months. Considering that Manhattan was surrounded by a decent amount of ocean, the heat given off by the sea would mainly prohibit snow. So instead, it rained. The humidity level also wasn't very comforting either, even for someone who wasn't alive.
"This has got to be the worst idea you've ever done, Ceras. You don't even know what you're going to do-OW!" words that were spoken aloud were cut off abruptly as the girl had found a force that had driven her to fall back and into a mud puddle. Oh, that's just great, and who was the brute that pushed her? Crimson eyes shot up to only catch a small glimmer of silver that blurred past her. That was strange. Normally nothing 'human' could move that fast, but then again, nothing ever crossed her mind that there would be vampires in the America's as they were in England.
At first, the initial thought was to go out and capture this vampire, purge him of his immortality and then report back to the Hellsing organization. That is, when she was enrolled. Now the question on what to do had left the girl sitting in that same gooey mass on the gritty street for some time then. Her crimson eyes widen and then shut, and with a gritting of her teeth, she pushed herself onto her feet and lunged forward in pursuit, " Hey! Look where you're going!"
So, the chase started. It was a tough one, considering the young female vampire was still quite famished from not properly feeding. It was strange to still abide by these 'human' rules that Ingetral and Walter had set up upon her a year or back. To think, if she was sired by another other vampire, she would have been gnawing at some poor git's neck waiting for the next savory taste of 'immortality'. But she didn't see things like that. She was raised differently. That didn't stop her from still catching up the brute that forcefully knocked her over. And as she ran, the streets began to blur together, and the buildings began to become meaningless. It was nearly a good ten minutes of leaping from ally way to ally way before her feet came to a skidded stop on the center of an abandoned street. Everything was quiet and predictably 'creepy', and yet, Ceras only gave a huff of annoyance, "Where in the bloody hell is he!? I thought I kept my eye on him the entire time." She spoke leisurely while walking down the moist concrete street way, gaze trying to pick out any sort of movement. However, she wasn't looking behind her.
" Maybe you should stop looking with your eyes, because I can see they don't do you much good."
The voice behind her had left a sudden cold lurch rush through the girl's throat, her shoulders growing stiff. Indeed, she left herself open, and in a situation back at 'home', she might as well be considered dead. And considering these were 'Americans', she considered they're reaction time to be a little be slower. Though while her fanged canines gave a grind amongst one another, and a foot went to pivot her around, a sudden 'thud' attacked the back of her neck.
And then there was darkness.
How long was she asleep? Or was she dead? It was hard to think of 'death' when you're a vampire. You're supposed to live forever, yet when you make the wrong mistakes, you can find yourself in an eternal punishment of hell. That is, if hell really did exist. For some vampires, it might be a paradise, others it would be the flaming torture chamber that most of us fear. Death, is there any salvation for the damned? Arucard would have said no at all costs, even for himself.
"Wake up, Police-girl."
Apparently she wasn't dead by the voice that touched the black around her and melded her eyes to clamp further shut. She didn't want to move directly, and yet she found a pressure on her bruised shoulder.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
That wasn't the voice of some sort of two-bit New Yorker punk, it had a prestige and royal valor. It was a respectable voice, and considering all aspects, who else would call her 'Police-girl'? After a moment or two of gathering up her split ends of conciseness, her head turned to the side to find it was on a pillow some sort, and that she was resting in a large old- fashioned bed. When her eyes lazily filtered open, the room itself seemed something of a City Loft decorated to fit the 'old times'. Satin curtains hung over shuddered windows, and the only light that beamed into the room as a few candles set here and there upon tables and wall mounts. But there was something else that was a bit more captivating.
Something red.
"M.. Master..?" Ceras spoke with a bit of a halted breath, crimson eyes matching onto a almond shaped version of her own, lengthy black hair wavering over his pale features as a set of trademark amber glasses rested on his nose. He smirked beneath the shadows and lifted a hand to pull out a piece of dirty red hair from the girl's eyes. He said nothing for a moment as the girl still progressively attempted to rise up from the bed.. yet the hand on her shoulder kept her pinned easily. Her lack of blood seemed more then evident now. But in some way, it was her fault. They both knew that.
"You've gotten yourself into a whole mess of trouble now, and I can't be the one who saves you." His voice was quiet yet placid, and above all determined. Victoria, whom had given up trying to get up, simply laid there staring up at her sire in idle wonder. Was he the one that conjured up that dream, or was it her own famished desires bottled up in that small moment where she slept? The speaking of trouble didn't mean much to her for now as she opened her mouth to speak.
Yet nothing came up a gloved hand over her lips and the downward stare to keep her silenced. She didn't have to speak her mind to have Arucard know what she was pondering on. And simply he kept it at bay, only shaking his head softly and easing back to fall into the depths of shadows once more.
"You -are- in trouble, Ceras. I'd suggest you watch your steps from now on, and what vampires you make friends in."
Though as Victoria had lunged up from the bed to grab at the fading form of her master, she suddenly felt the cold floor of cement bellow her. And the fantasy 'room' of the old world had faded. It was still indeed a loft, but it was dark and dreary. Boarded up windows and a small rotten and bug-eaten bed was what she was hanging off from. A few tables laid about scattered the massive hall and each of them were filled with a matter of odd looking characters. Fishnet, leather, boots, and multi-colored hair. For an instant, Ceras thought she was in one of those American 'music videos'.
'It was a dream again.. wasn't it..?' She thought quietly as she slipped completely off from the bed and onto her knee's, crimson eyes bitterly narrowing at the group of characters all staring at her sudden awakening. One however did rise from the mass of many. He was tall and thin and hording up lengthy silver hair up in a messy tie. His face was narrow but well sculpted and nose crooked down in a perfect display to match amber eyes. He seemed more like a falcon ready to stalk it's prey then anything else.
"You wake up fast, maybe I should have tied you down." He spoke idly to her, yet the comment started up a brief snickering from the group around him.
"W-Who are you!? And what do you want?" The red haired girl spoke out as she was onto her feet despite the growing dizziness nagging at the back of her head. Hands clasped to her sides, yet in her outfit, she found there was nothing. No guns, and no means to slay these 'creatures'. Perhaps she should listen to her dreams more often. Despite how 'surreal' they might be. Still, her crimson eyes narrowed without much fear of the man stalking before her. He had a set of vinyl pants that clung to his figure and a open ivory dress shirt. It seemed like he just got done with a formal meeting, yet he hadn't finished 'changing' his clothes yet. Still, the neighboring vampire shot out a toothy grin. He seemed happy, or was he plotting something?
"Julian Greyshades. And I can ask the same you for following me. You almost got yourself killed had I not lured you away." This coupling of words left the girl dumbfounded in some ways. 'Killed.?' Her thoughts lingered as she stepped back, having noticed that the rest of the vampires rose onto their feet. They weren't like the chipped FREAK vampires either. They all moved with their own grace, which was confusing to keep track of them all no less.
" What are you talking about? You pushed me and I followe-" She was silenced as her wrist was grabbed by a blurred hand, and Julian himself seemed to frown in his own distaste of something.
"Your from England, right? Not too many vampires over there thanks to that 'whatever' organization. But I have to say, you kept up pretty well, lap- dog." And suddenly the red haired girl was pushed back and smacked onto the bed only to roll off onto the other side. She winced and clamored onto her feet on instant however, speaking nothing. They know she was with Hellsing? She acted enough like it. It was more then just simply obvious after all.
"That's why I didn't kill you." And by then, the silver haired vampire perked another grin, "That and.. your eyes tell us you're a third generation. And not one of artificial ones that have been running around lately. I think you'll do good in the games."
Games!? Well, Victoria knew that the Americans had strange cultures, but vampires of this descent had their own bizarre tastes? Her eyes narrowed a bit as she found her arms grabbed on either end by muscle masses larger then she could recognize them as 'humanoid'. But she was hoisted to stand up straight then, her energy lacking more then anything, but she wasn't going to give up, she own suppressed a hiss to herself while silence still kept over her.
"You need to rest up first before you're any useful. I'll have the guys send you up someone, and the girls will 'do you up'. Because your going to be in the next game, which is in the next three days. I'm sure you'll hear -all- about it when the time comes." When he was finished speaking her turned away again to step back towards his table. Yes, she was in more trouble then she could account for, and like her master said in her dreams, he couldn't save her. Yet as her arms were tugged and her feet suddenly kicked up in resistance, panic built up in her mind. She had to get out of this herself, and she had to get out as soon as possible.
Otherwise, she might find herself wondering what 'Hell' is sooner then she thought.
Disclaimer: Wow, you people actually liked what I wrote, Wowee! Now I guess I'll add a bit more from my role playing experiences with Victoria, and we'll see what goes on from there. Okay? Review please and let me know how badly I'm screwing up the characters! Oh yah, I don't own anyone here. And the new person Julian Greyshades is owned by my friend, Rose (The Dark Mechanic). Anyhow, enjoy.
Chapter: 1
New York. Most people come to think of this place as the 'only place to be'. In the minds of so many, there is this fantasy world of good or bad when regarding this state. Manhattan is mainly what people will think on. The dark yet crowded subways, broken down city streets and mob-gangs at every corner. Or in a more positive light, people saw fancy broad way shows, chipper patrons in central park, and the illusion that everyone is rich. While both extremes are easily mistaken, one can only say if they've been there. And what did Ceras Victoria think about it?
She hated it.
Hard enough for her being a vampire in a new country with no job, nor money, finding a place to sleep for the day without being disrupted was rather impossible. Nearly every nuke and cranny was filled with the homeless during the daylight hours, and even if she did find a warehouse, she found herself scrambling away when construction workers found use of the complex all over again. What did she do for blood? Yes, there were blood banks, but it seemed that their storages were rather low, and she never even so much as got to request for a packet before being crammed with a load of registration papers. After all, she was 'foreign'.
Regardless of life on the streets, she found no inner peace that she had once thought in escaping the land of London. The saying 'Out of sight, out of mind' was under rated, and the image of the tall dark vampire still plagued her mind as if it were branded to the back of her eye sockets. True, she had sworn she had seen him on the airplane in arriving at Kennedy Airport, but she did really believe that he would be here for her? Of course not, for as long as he had his new 'chyld' to brood over, she had no more place in his life, or anyone else's.
So where was our redhead now? Well, as the night had recently peeked over the industrial city sky, the girl had promptly crawled out of a small hobbled place made up from pieces of concrete, sheet metal and plywood. It wasn't anything like the nice padded coffin-bed she had to snooze in, but it was freedom. And Freedom was worth it, right?
" I swear, if I find one more rat trying to use my hair as a nest.." An extruded sigh fell from pale lips as Victoria had stood upwards and straight for the first time in the past ten or twelve hours. Her arms rose up and coiled over her head, hands softly patting at the bright orange tendrils to calm it from looking like a spiked Afro.
To say in the least, she didn't like where she was now. And she needed a status somewhat higher then an average bum. She had money, English money. And that was nearly no use. Especially when trying to convert an account to a name that's been labeled dead for the past six months. Disappearing from the world was one thing, but trying to get back into it was a task and a half. And she hasn't found that half much at all.
After a few dreary moments of silence, the girl had shifted to walk on, feeling as if her hygiene was at a negative number range, while her clothing was a bit scoffed up with dirt and grime. It also rained in New York quite often. Especially during it's winter months. Considering that Manhattan was surrounded by a decent amount of ocean, the heat given off by the sea would mainly prohibit snow. So instead, it rained. The humidity level also wasn't very comforting either, even for someone who wasn't alive.
"This has got to be the worst idea you've ever done, Ceras. You don't even know what you're going to do-OW!" words that were spoken aloud were cut off abruptly as the girl had found a force that had driven her to fall back and into a mud puddle. Oh, that's just great, and who was the brute that pushed her? Crimson eyes shot up to only catch a small glimmer of silver that blurred past her. That was strange. Normally nothing 'human' could move that fast, but then again, nothing ever crossed her mind that there would be vampires in the America's as they were in England.
At first, the initial thought was to go out and capture this vampire, purge him of his immortality and then report back to the Hellsing organization. That is, when she was enrolled. Now the question on what to do had left the girl sitting in that same gooey mass on the gritty street for some time then. Her crimson eyes widen and then shut, and with a gritting of her teeth, she pushed herself onto her feet and lunged forward in pursuit, " Hey! Look where you're going!"
So, the chase started. It was a tough one, considering the young female vampire was still quite famished from not properly feeding. It was strange to still abide by these 'human' rules that Ingetral and Walter had set up upon her a year or back. To think, if she was sired by another other vampire, she would have been gnawing at some poor git's neck waiting for the next savory taste of 'immortality'. But she didn't see things like that. She was raised differently. That didn't stop her from still catching up the brute that forcefully knocked her over. And as she ran, the streets began to blur together, and the buildings began to become meaningless. It was nearly a good ten minutes of leaping from ally way to ally way before her feet came to a skidded stop on the center of an abandoned street. Everything was quiet and predictably 'creepy', and yet, Ceras only gave a huff of annoyance, "Where in the bloody hell is he!? I thought I kept my eye on him the entire time." She spoke leisurely while walking down the moist concrete street way, gaze trying to pick out any sort of movement. However, she wasn't looking behind her.
" Maybe you should stop looking with your eyes, because I can see they don't do you much good."
The voice behind her had left a sudden cold lurch rush through the girl's throat, her shoulders growing stiff. Indeed, she left herself open, and in a situation back at 'home', she might as well be considered dead. And considering these were 'Americans', she considered they're reaction time to be a little be slower. Though while her fanged canines gave a grind amongst one another, and a foot went to pivot her around, a sudden 'thud' attacked the back of her neck.
And then there was darkness.
How long was she asleep? Or was she dead? It was hard to think of 'death' when you're a vampire. You're supposed to live forever, yet when you make the wrong mistakes, you can find yourself in an eternal punishment of hell. That is, if hell really did exist. For some vampires, it might be a paradise, others it would be the flaming torture chamber that most of us fear. Death, is there any salvation for the damned? Arucard would have said no at all costs, even for himself.
"Wake up, Police-girl."
Apparently she wasn't dead by the voice that touched the black around her and melded her eyes to clamp further shut. She didn't want to move directly, and yet she found a pressure on her bruised shoulder.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
That wasn't the voice of some sort of two-bit New Yorker punk, it had a prestige and royal valor. It was a respectable voice, and considering all aspects, who else would call her 'Police-girl'? After a moment or two of gathering up her split ends of conciseness, her head turned to the side to find it was on a pillow some sort, and that she was resting in a large old- fashioned bed. When her eyes lazily filtered open, the room itself seemed something of a City Loft decorated to fit the 'old times'. Satin curtains hung over shuddered windows, and the only light that beamed into the room as a few candles set here and there upon tables and wall mounts. But there was something else that was a bit more captivating.
Something red.
"M.. Master..?" Ceras spoke with a bit of a halted breath, crimson eyes matching onto a almond shaped version of her own, lengthy black hair wavering over his pale features as a set of trademark amber glasses rested on his nose. He smirked beneath the shadows and lifted a hand to pull out a piece of dirty red hair from the girl's eyes. He said nothing for a moment as the girl still progressively attempted to rise up from the bed.. yet the hand on her shoulder kept her pinned easily. Her lack of blood seemed more then evident now. But in some way, it was her fault. They both knew that.
"You've gotten yourself into a whole mess of trouble now, and I can't be the one who saves you." His voice was quiet yet placid, and above all determined. Victoria, whom had given up trying to get up, simply laid there staring up at her sire in idle wonder. Was he the one that conjured up that dream, or was it her own famished desires bottled up in that small moment where she slept? The speaking of trouble didn't mean much to her for now as she opened her mouth to speak.
Yet nothing came up a gloved hand over her lips and the downward stare to keep her silenced. She didn't have to speak her mind to have Arucard know what she was pondering on. And simply he kept it at bay, only shaking his head softly and easing back to fall into the depths of shadows once more.
"You -are- in trouble, Ceras. I'd suggest you watch your steps from now on, and what vampires you make friends in."
Though as Victoria had lunged up from the bed to grab at the fading form of her master, she suddenly felt the cold floor of cement bellow her. And the fantasy 'room' of the old world had faded. It was still indeed a loft, but it was dark and dreary. Boarded up windows and a small rotten and bug-eaten bed was what she was hanging off from. A few tables laid about scattered the massive hall and each of them were filled with a matter of odd looking characters. Fishnet, leather, boots, and multi-colored hair. For an instant, Ceras thought she was in one of those American 'music videos'.
'It was a dream again.. wasn't it..?' She thought quietly as she slipped completely off from the bed and onto her knee's, crimson eyes bitterly narrowing at the group of characters all staring at her sudden awakening. One however did rise from the mass of many. He was tall and thin and hording up lengthy silver hair up in a messy tie. His face was narrow but well sculpted and nose crooked down in a perfect display to match amber eyes. He seemed more like a falcon ready to stalk it's prey then anything else.
"You wake up fast, maybe I should have tied you down." He spoke idly to her, yet the comment started up a brief snickering from the group around him.
"W-Who are you!? And what do you want?" The red haired girl spoke out as she was onto her feet despite the growing dizziness nagging at the back of her head. Hands clasped to her sides, yet in her outfit, she found there was nothing. No guns, and no means to slay these 'creatures'. Perhaps she should listen to her dreams more often. Despite how 'surreal' they might be. Still, her crimson eyes narrowed without much fear of the man stalking before her. He had a set of vinyl pants that clung to his figure and a open ivory dress shirt. It seemed like he just got done with a formal meeting, yet he hadn't finished 'changing' his clothes yet. Still, the neighboring vampire shot out a toothy grin. He seemed happy, or was he plotting something?
"Julian Greyshades. And I can ask the same you for following me. You almost got yourself killed had I not lured you away." This coupling of words left the girl dumbfounded in some ways. 'Killed.?' Her thoughts lingered as she stepped back, having noticed that the rest of the vampires rose onto their feet. They weren't like the chipped FREAK vampires either. They all moved with their own grace, which was confusing to keep track of them all no less.
" What are you talking about? You pushed me and I followe-" She was silenced as her wrist was grabbed by a blurred hand, and Julian himself seemed to frown in his own distaste of something.
"Your from England, right? Not too many vampires over there thanks to that 'whatever' organization. But I have to say, you kept up pretty well, lap- dog." And suddenly the red haired girl was pushed back and smacked onto the bed only to roll off onto the other side. She winced and clamored onto her feet on instant however, speaking nothing. They know she was with Hellsing? She acted enough like it. It was more then just simply obvious after all.
"That's why I didn't kill you." And by then, the silver haired vampire perked another grin, "That and.. your eyes tell us you're a third generation. And not one of artificial ones that have been running around lately. I think you'll do good in the games."
Games!? Well, Victoria knew that the Americans had strange cultures, but vampires of this descent had their own bizarre tastes? Her eyes narrowed a bit as she found her arms grabbed on either end by muscle masses larger then she could recognize them as 'humanoid'. But she was hoisted to stand up straight then, her energy lacking more then anything, but she wasn't going to give up, she own suppressed a hiss to herself while silence still kept over her.
"You need to rest up first before you're any useful. I'll have the guys send you up someone, and the girls will 'do you up'. Because your going to be in the next game, which is in the next three days. I'm sure you'll hear -all- about it when the time comes." When he was finished speaking her turned away again to step back towards his table. Yes, she was in more trouble then she could account for, and like her master said in her dreams, he couldn't save her. Yet as her arms were tugged and her feet suddenly kicked up in resistance, panic built up in her mind. She had to get out of this herself, and she had to get out as soon as possible.
Otherwise, she might find herself wondering what 'Hell' is sooner then she thought.