Rayne of Blood (one on one)

Archer Fenway was unusual. All his life, he'd trained in fighting, and learned as much as he could about as many subjects as he could. He couldn't tell you why it was so important that he do so, but he did it anyways. It just seemed natural to him to need to learn to be the best. He'd seen many things in his life. He'd gone on many adventures, as some would say. So when he unearthed an ancient tome written in blood, he immediately begain to study it. He'd learned a great deal from it, including an ancient prophecy. "Born of Violence, both human and Whamphyr, she will bear the relics of Beliar, and fight against her own kind. She will lead the way to the treasure of Valado."

It was that prophecy that made him think of rumours he'd heard. Rumours of a Dhamphyr, half human, half vampire. And so, he'd chased that rumour. His only interest was the treasure. He ended up in downtown Los Angeles, standing on top of a rooftop, as he watched a battle between a rather stunning redhead in black and red leather, armed with wicked blades attached to her wrist, fighting vampires. She was badly outnumbered, though doing well enough. He considered what to do, then shrugged. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop until he was actually above the fight, hanging between two opposing walls. They had just about closed in for the kill when he dropped and struck. She had already passed out when he'd started to attack, his rather unique weapon lashing out and slicing through vampiric bodies. When the dust settled, he ran a hand through his dark brown hair, and then walked back over to her. He looked at her for a moment, then picked her up and carried her to a hidden location where she could heal and rest. He needed her in the best condition of her life.

Archer had placed her in a rather ornate bedroom in one of his safehouses. He'd stripped her down, treated her wounds, and then bathed her body, though that was now about a week past. The bed he'd set her in had silk sheets, though he didn't know whether or not she'd like that, and solid wood trim. The fluffy pillows had been meant to help her feel comfortable. He'd had to repair her clothing, as it had been torn pretty badly from the fight. He'd also gone ahead and sharpened the blades she used in battle. He had just returned them to her room and stepped out the door when she woke up. He made sure to stay out of sight, watching her reactions. He shook his head, seeing her almost fall off the bed as she fainted back onto it.

He walked back into the room, and picked her up gently, moving her back into her original position in the bed. He tucked her in gently, and then turned around and headed back to where he had been heading in the first place. He planned on doing some training, using his weapon of choice. As he made his way to the large gymnasium he used, he considered his next course of action. She would need food of some kind, though he wasn't sure how he'd acquire what she required. He'd also need to convince her to help him find the city in the prophecy.

He entered the large room he used to train himself. Lining the walls in some sections were racks of weapons. There were pillars and platforms scattered about, and poles and ropes for climbing, as well as banners sticking out from the walls for other purposes. Most of his training involved acrobatics during combat. That was why there were so many aerial obstacles. He picked up his prized weapon, a razorsharp chain whip that responded to his will. He'd found it in an ancient tomb in the area where Babylon was said to be located, resting on a pedestal with text reading Ashetar, Reaver of Damned Souls. He slid the weapon onto his forearm, tightening the bracelet, and picked up a sword. He began his training routines, moving in a fluid dance, his blade and whip flashing.

Rayne

Rayne slept for hours. She had been fighting nonstop and was really exhausted, which was why she had fainted earlier while fighting. When she awoke again in unfamiliar surroundings, she automatically reached for her weapons. She didn't find them and panicked, twirling around. Seeing no one, she grabbed a few weapons from the wall and started practicing with them. They were heavier than she was used to, but she still flowed into her practice exercises. She needed to keep in shape and nothing would stop her, not even her hunger for watered blood. She lived on human food and blood, either watered-down human blood or vampiric. She preferred vampiric blood herself. It tasted so much better than that watered down stuff. Most vampires just drank human blood straight, but she couldn't. It was too intoxicating and made her high most of the time.

Finally, after an hour, she stopped her practicing and put down the weapons. She didn't care that she was nude, she often went around her home that way. But this was not home, she remembered. This was another place, another section. Another test to prove her worthiness for the prize: the hidden city she was linked with in the prophecy.

Archer was deep in the almost trancelike state that he went into when fighting. He was so far into it that when Rayne entered the room and did some practicing of her own, he didn't even notice her. She didn't seem to notice him, either. But at a sudden movement she made, one that seemed to trip a trigger within him, the whip flicked out, flashing over the tall, busty redheaded Dhamphyr's shoulder, burying its blades in the wall millimeters from her face. It was several long, tense moments before he opened his eyes, and the ancient relic retracted, the whip itself seeming to vanish into the armlet.

He slowly undid the armlet as his eyes focused again, and set it on a pedestal nearby. Then he regarded the nude woman quietly. It was a good sign she was awake, he thought. Then again, it could also be very bad. So he spoke calmly. "I take it you're feeling better?"

(Warning: there are times when I come up with very short posts. I'll try to write long ones, but I can't promise anything longer than a paragraph or two. I can do longer than this when the mood strikes, which can be often, but not now. )

Rayne was impressed. She was also surprised.

"Yes, I am," she said. She smelled something familiar and tasty. "Do you have any vampire blood or something? I'm thirsty and I need to eat. Nice moves. Where'd you learn them?"

She had been trained, privately, by several martial arts masters all over the world. Her training exercises included essential moves from each person. By the time she finished with them, she had been able to beat them all.

Archer considered her question for a moment, then shook his head. He had no vampire blood on hand, though he figured it wouldn't be that hard to get. He made a quick phone call, pulling a phone seemingly from nowhere as he did so. A few minutes of negotiation and almost ten minutes of curses in ten different languages and he hung up. He nodded slowly, and shrugged at her question about his fighting skill. "No vampire blood on hand, but a supplier will have some for me here in about half an hour, if you can wait. As to where I learned. Eh, a little of this, a little of that. Here, there, everywhere."

He set down the other weapon he'd been training with, then grabbed a wet cloth and started to wipe the sweat from his body. A few minutes and he shrugged on a shirt, turning to look at her. "Well, I fixed your clothes. It took me a while. They're in the laundry room now. I hadn't gotten around to putting them back in the bedroom."