Cyn City: 1899 (A Prelude to the Kiss)

[Guest]

~*~OOC: Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long to get started. I hope you all have fun playing here! Please, keep OOC posts in my OOC Thread http://www.literotica.com/forum/showthread.php?threadid=32642&pagenumber=1, and do not do anything that could hurt or kill another role player without talking to them about it first. Thank you.~*~

Prologue:
Casandra shivered in her sleep, though the midsummer's night breeze blowing through the open terrace doors was quite warm. She stirred. It was a restless sleep, full of nightmare and bad thought.

A thin bead of sweat formed at the nape of her neck, sliding its way down between her heaving breasts, and rested there before it dissolved into her flesh. Her thin, silk gown clung to her sculpted body like a second skin. Its crimson color was a beautiful offset to her raven hair and pale skin. She was a vision of loveliness.

For a moment he looked at her through eyes of love instead of lust. The creature had a moment of weakness. A moment of human weakness. But, that was in the past now. Buried and long forgotten. He was not human. He was the undead. He was a creature of the night. He could never go back to what he once was.

He made his way to the edge of Casandra's canopy bed and pulled the sheer curtain aside. She stirred once more, her slumber disturbed. He smiled as he looked at her. He moved closer to her now. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to shake the images in her mind. Her breathing grew to a quick pant as a new coat of sweat covered her.

He lingered over her now, his lips inches from her flesh. She awoke. A soundless scream tried to echo in the small room. He smiled, and for a brief moment she saw he was not human. Then all went dark.

 

[Guest]

~*~Quick OOC~*~

(Yes, I know I am breaking my own rule...)

I just wanted to ask that you wait until Poohlive gets his post in before any of you post yours. He is going to start the beginning of the "modern day" of this thread. (1899 New Orleans..) His post is going to be an intraductory to his characters and his place in this lil' world we've created. You all can make your first posts like that as well. Carry on and have fun!

Please wait until after Poohlive can get his post in, though. Thank you!

 

[poohlive]

(putting all of this on my doorstep, lol, I love it. Ok, it's official, you may start posting and having fun and all of that)

Gary woke up, stretching out his body. It had been weeks since he had a good night sleep. He was finally able to relax, and let the past encounters drain from his mind for a while. It is the scariest thing in the world to be hunted.
"What time is it?" he asked, stepping out into the poorly lit tavern. It was starting to fill up, he wondered why. Although in the back of his mind, a frightful thought that sunset was not far off hit him.
"It's almost sunset."
Shit. Gary ran back up to his room. He grabbed his little satchel, containing some money and a few personal items. He didn't have time to dawdle.
"Listen," he looked at the bartender, "If someone very beautiful or very ugly, or... just if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I went deep into the woods. Can you do that?"
He handed the man a silver dollar.
"Yeah, sure, no problem."
"Thanks," Gary ran. He ran as fast as he could. Outside the dull overcast gave way to show the sunset. A few months ago he would have thought the sunset to be one of the most beautiful thing in all the world. Now, however, it was nothing more than an omen of death. They could come out after sunset. He had to run, had to hide. He knew he couldn't hide in the forest anymore, they could smell him. They had so many powers. He had to find a city, a nice big city with lots of people.
New Orleans.
Gary ran into the outskirts, a few bars along with some inns were crawling with people dancing and having a good time. They couldn't smell him in here, or find him. He could finally be somewhat safe, for a while.
The sun was down, and a few stars shined in against the cloudy horizon. It was too late, they were awake. Twelve hours before he would be safe again. He tried to lose himself inside a few crowds. He could tell already that they were coming.
... and death was coming with them.

 

[captainb]

Michael Zane

The figure in black raised a pasty face, glowing with an unnatural light. It spoke with a voice dry as bones. "Now that you have learned what you have learned, it would be well for you to return to your own country."

Twenty feet away, the man in tweed glared back, his hand holding a gleaming crucifix between them. "I prefer to remain and protect those whom you would destroy."

The other took a step forward. "You are too late. My blood now flows through her veins. She will live through the centuries to come, as I have lived."

"Should you escape us Dracula, we know how to save Miss Mina's soul, if not her life," said van Helsing bravely.

"If she dies, by day. But I shall see that she dies by night."

Van Helsing raised his voice, "And I will have Carfax Abbey torn down stone by stone, excavated a mile around. I will find your earth box and drive that heart through your st...that stake through your heart."

"Gods, when will you get that line right?" cried a voice in frustration. The figures on stage looked nervously at the audience seats, empty save for a few scattered figures. One stood and walked to the front, punctuating his words with thrusts of the pages held in his clenched fists. "Mr. Conner, you have been stumbling over those words for two weeks! Stake through your heart! The stake will go through his heart, now say it!"

"Stake through y..."

"Yes, stake through your heart!" He whirled away and raised a hand to rub his temple. The actors glanced at each other and waited. After a moment the director turned around, his face somewhat composed. "All right," he said tiredly, "it's late. Everyone go home, relax, and keep reviewing your lines. I know you know them, Mr. Conner, you just need to stop thinking about what you're going to say. Just be. Live in the moment, and the words will come to you. Now, good night everyone."

As the actors and stagehands began to leave, Michael Zane sagged into the nearest seat. One week until opening night. He'd been through this kind of panic so many times before, but it always pulled together in the end, didn't it? These were professional actors, they knew what to do. He had to trust them and coax them as well as possible. It will work, he told himself over and over. The actors had a difficult time at first dealing with the subject matter. Stoker's play had been performed to lukewarm reviews for two years now, but this was its first time in New Orleans. Maybe the strange appeal of sex and death would overcome any actor's shortcomings...maybe. This town always had an attraction for creatures of the night, alligators and things worse that supposedly crept in from the swamps and lived in the sewers. He ran a hand through his pale blonde hair and rose with a sigh. Michael stood six foot even, somewhat taller than most. The softness of his hands and face belied his lean legs and strong arms, remnants of a youth spent in a shack deep in the labyrinth of mangrove trees to the north of the city. In his late teens, he had escaped the terror of his father's drunken beatings, losing himself in the rising culture of this "inevitable city on an impossible site." Seven years later, he was starting to make a name for himself among the growing circle of artists and actors, and had been fairly successful at losing the deep cajun accent that gave away his poverty-stricken youth. Now he just needed to get some sleep and put some mental distance between himself and the theater. He hadn't been sleeping well these past few weeks, too many images of the show flitting in and out of his restless dreams.

The fog was thick outside, and the gas lamps were amorphous blobs that floated above his head as he walked through the French Quarter. Figures emerged and vanished in the odd shadows, their voices and footsteps amplified and carrying far ahead to echo over the cobblestones. He clutched his satchel tight and walked faster. Wouldn't do to be assaulted here, no one would be able to locate the noise, much less help. His walk-up was only another block though, and he allowed himself a faint smile as he passed the window of the corner grocery store. Then he paused and looked back. Mrs. Ceraney would still have her stove lit, and a hot bowl of gumbo would taste good. It might even help him sleep better.

 

[captainb]

*bump*

Where'd everybody go? Talk about building up suspense...

 

[poohlive]

Tigg's is having some writer's block problem's. She's trying to make a post, but it isn't going so well. Don't worry, it'll be here as soon as it can. I promise.