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Post by SAVAN AMARANDA DARAY on Jun 30, 2011 2:17:00 GMT -6
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♕ SAVAN AMARANDA DARAY i hide in the shadows, i long for the light;
for i am a vampire, imprisoned by night.
the moon is my sun, the night is my day,
for blood is my life, and you are my prey
Pulling the hood over his matted hair, the vampire bowed his head, the shadows resting heavily on his face as he strolled down the streets of the market, he frayed edged of his cloak dragging across the muddied ground. His boots scraped up the dirt of the wear and worn streets that were lined with vendors. Wagon trail marks, footprints, and trash scattered across the ground, leaving their marks for the assassin to inspect, right before they were wash away with a new set. Around him, people shuffled about around him, some flocking the center to witness the events that would soon unfold- others headed home, seeking shelter away from the blood that painted the ground. It was, after all, Sunday, and while some indulge in watching the twisted punishments of Death, others would rather not see- it wasn't something they particularly found enjoyment in. But for those few, whose attention span revolved around bloodshed and dark amusement, it was a perfect time for the vampire to steal something he's had his eye on for a while now- a sharper set of daggers. And what a better way to acquire it by stealing it like the cheap thief he was? With the money he had earned through killing, it wasn't at all fun if he had brought it like the 'good' boy that he was.
How funny.
One hand hanging limply by his side, the other curled around the front of his body, he followed the shuffling over to the center of the market- where the execution was, a young man who was seemingly charged with murder, his movements deliberately clumsier and slower then the people around him- looking much like the race that he hated more then any other- a good-for-nothing human. A fragile human. A human who couldn't do anything right no matter what, only good for food and nothing more. In truth- he just had nothing to do, he wasn't hungry, he hadn't seen that little elf, and he hadn't ran into anyone actually worth his time- so what was a vampire to do during his free time? Besides slaughter and massacre the forsaken and spill the blood of the innocent? Both had already been done. Side effects of living forever include useless actions with no reason and boredom. Great.
Stopping, he lifted his head just enough to peer at the victim before he moved to the side, where a vendor was selling some potions and a few sets of daggers and bows and arrows here and there. His ears listened to the event unfold as he reached out with one gloved hand to inspect the set that he had wanted. His fingers running over the simple design. It may not look like much- but the blade was thin, enough to go through one's ribs, and strong enough to hack through any armory or shield that could stand in its way- within reason, of course, but it was good enough for Savan, who knew most of his victims are took high and mighty to think they need protection- foolishly believing that no one would dare attack them anyways.
But Savan would.
In fact, he was sure that there was little things that he wouldn't do, he wasn't above being a better person, being a good guy in the story that always gets his happily ever after. Not in this life, not this time- he won't lie, before he had been a vampire, that idea of falling in love was gone. Now, there was no rule to bind him, not Death, not Thea. He did what he wanted- and if he wanted the daggers, that's what he will get. He didn't have to convince himself twice as he turned and glanced at the vendor absently, observing him and the way he ran the trade- he wasn't very attentive, and didn't seem to know much about anything, but he had a sharp eye, darting back and forth to make sure his wears were still there. Savan inwardly growled- if he kept it up, he could break his neck, leaving the vampire the power to just walk away.
But the old, balding the peasant didn't break his neck, and Savan had to act before the execution was over. He needed to act fast.
Sending a prayer to Xymore for his presence and help, he turned back to the table, ready to 'accidentally' trip like the clumsy human he was and snatch the item as the vendor picked up his things.
notes:: Ew. I hate starting. xD
words:: 7 5 0
tagged:: x y m o r e |
TEMPLATE MADE BY ICE OF OTE |
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Post by xymore on Jul 8, 2011 11:07:57 GMT -6
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i'm just a poor boy, don't need no sympathy
There were few places Xymore enjoyed to be in his waning days. Odantton was definitely one of the funner ones. A city full of fear and darkness, shadows and, most importantly, crime. A place where public hangings were the thing to see, with wonderfully nasty weather to go along with it. And vampires, vampires who had long memories and a few devout followers, well, as devout as anyone could be with no temples to have your tithes pick-pocketed away at.
This crowd, waiting for the execution of a murderer, was a prime place for his fingers to do their work. A woman with a minx wrap found she didn't have it anymore, a man with a golden pocket watch would discover it gone when next he tried to look at the time. Little things, even just some woman's necklace that looked pretty even if it had fake stones, anything that caught his eye, those were what he took. It wasn't that he needed any of it, but he was a hoarder, and he liked his collections. His own hidden home amongst the gods was filled with treasures he had stolen throughout the centuries, now all his. Things of kings and queens, even from the other gods themselves had found their way into his pockets and into his hoard. He was as bad as a dragon, finding a way to get whatever he wanted and cause a little misery along the way if he could.
It was strange for him in the middle of this crowd, though. Pickpockets were everywhere, yet each time he saw someone cutting a purse, he felt the emptiness of the air around them. No prayers were heard from their lips as they stole, no words asking for protection, for the shadows to cover their steps. It was a crying shame that they didn't know their place anymore, and one Xymore was very bitter about indeed. A forgotten god, loosing his power, and with the god of the sun as his company in fading. With a twitch, and a flick of his hand, he used some of his power to trip one of the pickpockets as he passed by, leaving a whisper in his ear, “Best to pray to a god of thieves, especially when he comes to town for a visit.”
He knew it wouldn't help, but it made him feel better knowing the lad would likely go to whoever it was that served as a leader to his crew and tell the tale. He would be laughed at, scorned, and punished by them for being caught as well. And maybe, just maybe one of them would think to look for a god of thieves. And when they did, they might just find him. Maybe, might, the words rang sourly in his head as he made his way once more through the crowd. Once upon a time was all he was, now. Once upon a very long time ago, there was a god who made thieves richer than kings. And then the thieves forgot about him and he was left roaming the world, and seemingly able to count his followers on one hand. It was pitiful.
Almost as pitiful as the performance he could see over by the vendors. A vampire, it was obvious to the god, was pretending to be a human, and eying up wares to steal. Xymore knew that look, knew it very well. This was a man used to taking what he wanted, and not getting caught. Slowly, Xymore drew closer, eager to see how it played out. The vendor had a keen eye, and time was running out for the vampire to stay hidden in the crowd. In fact, it was almost certain he would be caught for anything he tried to do. Xymore felt his lips twitch into a smirk, would a careless thief get himself caught? And then the words rang out in his ears, loudly, as if someone had shouted in the crowd. A prayer, to him. And the vampire wouldn't be caught, the god knew he had to make sure of that. With a quick glance, he once again picked out what exactly the vampire had been planning on stealing, a set of knives. But the vampire had waited too long, and the vendor noticed the suspiciously clumsy man watching him. Any move the vampire made would only get him caught, and Xymore couldn't allow that, not right after the prayer had been said.
So Xymore made his move, pushing through the crowd and grabbing the knives as he passed, slipping them into his bag of holding as he pointed a finger at Savan, boldly accusing him. “Beggar, get away from here! No coins for you, and don't think of taking this good man's purse.” Xymore had timed it perfectly, his own shouts only heard by the immediate crowd as the roar of the main crowd rose up with the execution finally completed. He put a firm grip on Savan's ear, twisting it to a point he knew would look like it hurt, yet not do any actual harm, especially not to a vampire, and he gave a deep bow to the vendor, “Please excuse me while I deal with this rapscallion.” He then turned and led them away, walking quickly through the slowly moving crowd to a secluded, shadow-filled alleyway.
“Well, my dear servant, you underestimate humans too much.” he tossed the blades at the vampire's chest, “Here's what you nearly lost your neck over. Just nearly, though, I can't have my few worshipers dying on me, not when I only have about half a dozen, and I was standing right next to this one.” He gave him a small smile and a little bow. “Xymore, god of thieves at your service.” He paused for a moment, looking over the vampire, and furrowing his brow in thought. He knew he recognized the vampire, from years ago, back in the time he wasn't so fading, back in the day his human form seemed to crackle with power as he walked among the mortals. It would have been nearly a thousand years ago. He knew the vampire couldn't recognize him now, not as the powerful god that had once helped him early on in his career. But he did recognize the vampire, and the fact he was still alive, and still thieving brought a smile to Xymore's face.
cause it's easy come, easy go WORDS: 1076
TAGGED: savan OUTFIT: think jack sparrow MUSIC: queen<3 NOTES hope you like, and don't mind the semi-history i added at last minute <.< template made by mikey is a lady killer ?! @ caution 2.0, steal it and she'll send zombie pandas to eat your brains! |
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Post by SAVAN AMARANDA DARAY on Jul 8, 2011 21:31:25 GMT -6
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♕ SAVAN AMARANDA DARAY i hide in the shadows, i long for the light;
for i am a vampire, imprisoned by night.
the moon is my sun, the night is my day,
for blood is my life, and you are my prey
Anyone who knew what he was from the start- A god, for example, could really assume that he has nothing better to do that he couldn't push off until later by his actions. But Savan found it... entertaining and annoying at the same time. It's been a long while since he remembered what it was like to be human, for his senses to be so slow, his movements so sluggish, his actions so weak and feeble. It's hard to believe that so many centuries ago, he was once this thing that he now hunted and slaughtered without thought. And slaughtered and murdered just for something to do. And here, it was no different; because should his silly actions of amusement got himself caught, he could always revert back into his old ways- snatching the blade and disappearing into the shadows. No human would be able to find him, and with the hood pulled so low over his features, they wouldn't even know what he looked like. Should they sent out a search party for the thief, it would escalate into a hunting party- and they are the prey. It would be fun- no matter if he failed at his mockery of being a human or not, he always had a gain. He wasn't stupid, nor careless, nor reckless- he thought things through, one doesn't live for so long without learning a few things and picking up a few tricks. Everything is a gain to him, because once one passes a certain number of years, everything else means little to nothing: love, happiness, emotions. He keeps it simple.
Despite Savan's years, he was still a vampire, brushing his fingers over a particular ware, the scent of blood filled his nose and narrowed his gaze. His head slid a fraction to the side, taking in the pool of blood from the execution, and for a moment his mind slowed and focused on one thought- the blood. One with an insatiable appetite found it hard to control it. But he did. Somehow. He fingers were slack has he pulled away slowly, now realizing a fraction of a second too late that he had noticed Savan and had his greedy little eyes on him. His lips were pressed tightly together- there was still time, if it failed, dessert for the vampire, the blade was a bonus. He needed entertainment, he needed a thrill- a chase, and it's been a while since a group of well abled bodies chased after him. He loved the dying screams and the breaths of terror that filled the air, mixed with the scent of blood when he played his little games. They were all pawns, big in numbers, but useless and easy to take out.
However, there was someone out there who heard his prayer (not that he realized it), and decided what was best for his course of action without his consent. Whirling around at the sound of someone's voice, unmistakably directed in his direction, he snarled suddenly, unamused by this bold moronic action. However, he froze in surprise at the action as the man before him pulled at his ear. What was this? There were no good-doings in the marketplace anymore, but he realized the game as the second man clearly snatched the blade that Savan had wanted. Was this an accomplice? He glowered at the thought of being 'helped', but played along never the less, to break out of the man's grip, he would have had super human strength- the strength of a vampire, and that wouldn't do at all. Scowling heavily he followed the man and slapped at his hand once they were within the shadows.
Reaching one hand up with ease to catch the blade, he pushed his hood down with the other, his black and white matted hair falling in front of his shoulders as he tipped his head forward and inspecting the stolen weapon, unamused and annoyance clouding his features. 'Hardly, sharp they may be in the light- but in the dark, they're my prey,' he snapped absently, his voice not harsh but cool and calculating, purring at the thought. Prey. Yes, they all are, they had never been anything else to Savan to begin with.
However, there was silence once the last statement sunk in. His dark brown eyes slid over to the bowing figure before he begrudgingly followed suit. Fading or not, he was a god who had helped Savan a few times- acting like a human or not. 'I thank you, then,' he muttered, peering at the smile that was on the God's face. 'Savan, a pleasure to meet a useful God,' he introduced. Useful to him, he was a thief.
notes:: - - -
words:: 7 8 5
tagged:: x y m o r e |
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