Morose walked in silence, letting the eerie sounds of the ever pumping City flow over him like unacknowleged acid burning numb flesh. His senses felt dead....though...in his current state and the results of an afair that occured mere weeks before, in all reality his sense have been heightened beyond human comprehension rather then killed them. Nevertheless, his nerve endings feel damaged and his body invaded.

His body deadened, with no need for a beating heart and no use for breathing, he feels as if he's been robbed of something that, until now, hadn't meant much to him. His life's been stolen and rather then becoming angry, he's saddened. He felt that he himself was to blame, for not being on gaurd, because he did not value his life, or recognize how much he really did value it. He couldn't bring himself to blame Enyo. She'd been lonely. He wanted to, and he fought with her to the very end of hatred. But in your heart, you can't really lie to yourself convincingly.

His fingers came to rest over two small punctured wounds on his throat, scabbed and crusted they'd yet to fade to scar tissue yet, perhapes that's because he won't stop worrying them with his fingers, re-opening them. It's haunting that they don't bleed when they are opened.

Morose looms tall in the middle of the street, though the city buildings tend to make the tallest man feel small and incignificant. He stands at six feet three inches, only weighing at one hundred and seventy pounds, he's skin and boe, literally. He's just short of hansom, though his blue eyes, recently clouded with depression, tend to make up for what the rest of him lacks. His hair is flaming red, highlighted by blonde and orange, the bangs cut long, falling past his chin, but the rest cut into short messy spikes. His shirt clings tight, nylon and black. His pants hang on his waist, the legs baggy and becoming more so towards the feet. Orange stitching, and straps and loops hang all over the pants, seemingly just tossed on and sewed in place. He wears A ground length trench coat, left open, to keep the chill of winter off of him, leather gloves over boney fingers. The coat does nothing. His skin is cold as the air anyways. It always will be.

He continues to move at a slow pace, head down, shoulders slumped, towards an unknown destination. Anywhere but home, where Jex would probably be sleeping now. Anywhere but the Crypt that Enyo inhabbited.

The lock gave a sharp click as Rin turned the key securing the door. She placed the cold bronze object in her jean pocket and pulled back a few strands of stray hair behind her ear as she turned her head slightly. The alley was motionless, only cool wind whistled through the passages between dark brick walls. Tranquility. It was the only word could describe such a scene, at least to her. She smiled lightly and pulled her coat around her as she turned and started towards the mouth of the alley.

Rounding the corner she paused, her gaze falling upon the one who walked so solomnly down the icy black street. Her lips parted to speak in hopes of uncovering his sorrow but as the wind blew once more, sweeping back his hair, her gaze fell upon the open marks of another immortal.

She stood still in silent thought, knowing he would sense her if perhaps his sorrow was not deep. But as the seconds passed she found a strong desire to comfort.

'It comes to us all ... regret ... saddness ... yet I have never seen it affect one so strongly. It passes, though at what speed, that is differs for everyone.'

She stepped close, turquise optics pale with concern rarely felt and yet stopped fearful of a reaction of unwant and anger.

*unposted*

Click

Morose had heared the sound through the allyway ahead of himself and he barely glanced over. He didn't care. He took his hand off of the puncture wounds and looked at the finger tips, half hoping to see spots of blood. It still chilled him to see that an open wound did not bleed.

A heavy sigh found it's way into his chest, joining that heavy feeling that had settled there ever since he'd told Jex what he was. He slid his hand into his pocket again.

'It comes to us all ... regret ... saddness ... yet I have never seen it affect one so strongly. It passes, though at what speed, that is differs for everyone.'


Morose glanced up at her. That hadn't made sense to him. 'It passes, though at what speed, that is differs for everyone.' What did that mean? He continued to gaze stadily at her, a blank, calm look in his gaze. He stopped walking and let his gaze return to the street in front of him.

"I don't understand what you mean."

She spoke like a prophet. They never said what they meant and never made what they were saying very clear.

She blinked and sighed miserably. 'Yeah I figured that wouldn't come out right.' She combed her fingers through her hair and looked down the street. 'Look, I didn't just leave you here, like this anyways.'

She looked quietly to his fingertips then slowly to the wounds on his neck. 'Thats odd ...' she whispered. 'Have you fed this evening?' She watched his face doubting if he had, then slowly looked to her watch. 'Theres a place I know where you can get a bite ... if your up to some company?'

(*gag* I think my imagination croaked on that one.)

Morose suddenly become very offensive and his hands slid from his pockets and yanked the collar of his coat over up over his neck, hiding the marks that she'd already seen anyways. He then stuffed his hand back into his pockets aggressivly and fixed his eyes on her with a look that, had he not felt so weak and abused, would have seemed dangerous.

"A bite?" He sneered the word. "A bite of what?"

Disgusting. He turned his face away from her and settled his eyes on the street. It was true. He hadn't eaten. Not in a long while. Enyo and Jex hadn't forced him to do so and so he hadn't. The effects weren't showing yet but he was feeling them. The pains in his stomach, the cravings in his mind. The weakness.

"Yes. I have fed. And no, I need no company."

He was soft spoken now. He didn't enjoy lieing, he didn't enjoy sinning. Long boney fingers caressed the black granite cross that hung around his throat, lay flat again his chest. Even now, weeks after he'd accidently held that cross too tightly in his palm, after it had made him bleed and healed, he still felt the ach that issued from the scar. On his left palm, a scar in the shape and size of that cross matted his hand, and could hardly be seen beneath the shadow that the street lights caused.

Rin merely stood in shameful silence as he took her words quite harshly.

'You must think all of us are monsters if the ones who did this created such an affect.'

Her blue optics watched his movements. He wasn't walking, if indeed he was so disgusted with her he would have kept on ... why did he stay? Her mind raced as she watched him trying hard to find a way to calm him down. She recalled a time when she was much upset, unwillingly she had been changed and lived in a depression until she was found.

'Well if you are well fed and need no company ... I won't bother you any longer ...' She waited, seeing if perhaps he would think differently.

'If you change your mind I'll be around the corner in the diner.'

With that she pulled her coat around her and started walking, slower than her usual pace in hopes he would follow.

His eyes remained on the cracked surface of the wet street surface, absorbed in her words. He wanted to blame her, now, for this as much as he wanted to blame Enyo. But again, he knew he could not lie to himself and he knew that this one had even less to do with this then even Enyo or even Jex, a harmless human man. He had more to do with this then her.

He listened to the rustle of her coat, the sound of her slow and deliberate retreating footsteps. His fingers continued to trace the cross around his neck, then the marks that didn’t bleed.

“Not monsters.” He said this to her retreating back in that same hushed voice, looking ahead at the empty street ahead of himself. He knew she would hear. “Just your ways.” His breath caught in his throat, he still wouldn’t stop breathing, as pointless as it was, because it was natural and he found that not breathing only tied him closer to being what he was and what he didn’t want. “Our…..ways.” The words were quieter then before.

There came a pause in her steps and she looked barely over her shoulder to him. 'You shouldn't treat yourself this way ...' she whispered. She turned slightly to face him, extending a hand. 'I'm no idiot, I can tell by your appearance you haven't fed. I doubt you want your situation to worsen.'

She was prepared for another bombardment of harsh words but her face held her expression.

His eyes returned to the cracked pavment and his hand closed over his throat, covering those marks that damned him.

"Your wrong." He replied. It was the first time his voice, his tones, seemed even relitivly loud, and more strongly spoken. He'd made up his mind. "I do want it to worsen."

As he's told Jex, he wanted nothing more then to die. That was why, even when Jex talked him out of killing himself, he made his friend take the will and the money. Because unless they forced him to...feed...then he would not.

Rin nodded silently. Either he would kill himself and end the pain or get over it, the drama queen. Thats what she had done, let go of the few strings that still connected her to life and grabbed death by the throat.

If she couldn't help someone then she would lose interest and start to play with them. She started to walk clenching her hand so that her nails dug into the tender flesh of her mortal vessel. Blood pooled in the wound and she let the droplets fall to the pavement below. Most vampires that hadn't fed for awhile were desprate for a mere drop of the vital fluid, she wanted to see just how strong he was, see if he could resist the scent of freshly spilt blood.

The scent waifted to his nose and his head turned slightly, almost unnoticably, towards the smell. His blue eyes closed. He feared, for a breif moment, that the very smell of that fluid, that very substance that would keep him alive would tempt him. But...that very substance that would keep him alive.... Was that what he wanted?

Where was the blood? Behinde him and...getting further.

"Bitch."

There was no real emotion, no despise in the word. It didn't carry with the hate that he wanted her to hear. But nevertheless, it'd been spoken. She was doing it on purpose and he was going to let her know what he thought. Why were they all the same? Was it just woman or was it all vampires? Or all women?

A smirk curved at her full lips. When she ever did offer her hand to help she expected it to be taken and when it wasn't ... well. It was getting to him, she paid attention to very movement he made and enjoyed it.

The smell even began to lure herself and she rose a hand to lick blood from her wound. She walked slower now, letting each droplet of crimson liquid echo through his mind. He hated her for it, she knew. But she also knew it would drive him half crazed to resist.

(gah shortness)

Morose stood still as stone for a long moment, listening to her walk away. Just keep walking. It's all he wanted from her.

When had his life become so full of people..er..beings? Before, when it was just him..and then it was him and Jex. And then their agreed upon life togather in solitary comfort was interupted by Enyo and now this woman. Before, when he was not what he is...when he'd been normal, no one would have paid him any attention. That's the way he liked it, that's the way it should have stayed.

It was makeing him crazy, the very scent. But it wasn't in the way she'd expected, wanted. He was appaled by the scent. Disgusted in himself for allowing it to have an effect on him. But still, he turned slowly and began to follow her, breifly brushing his bangs out of his heavily lined eyes, the eye pencil had begun to run off his eye slightly.

His footsteps were slower then her's, even as she'd slowed them. He seemed almost reluctant to follow her.

Her eyes closed upon listening to his footsteps. Victory. Perhaps not the victory she wanted but she had gotten beneathe his pale flesh, maybe now, in some weird way she could shed alittle light on his awful attitude. A smirk came to her lips upon reaching that thought, that was a huge maybe. She wanted to turn her head slightly, so that her gaze caught his in that way that said I have you. But there was hesitence.

There was an alley not far ahead, it lead to the back door of a club. Perfect. With another smirk of wicked knowledge she turned the corner.

Morose again, balled his bony hands into a knobby fist, knuckles larger and turning white, but he continued to follow her down the alleyway, matching her pace with an even slower step of his own. He could still smell the blood, feel it overwhelming him. Had this been what Silas had felt when he’d changed? Powerless to his actions, inside that beast, screaming orders and never having them obeyed?

I’m sorry my friend, I misunderstood.

Where did this alley go to? Where was it she was going? Where was it he was following? He felt like reaching out and grabbing onto the wall like a child, holding on and following no further.

A shadow emerged slowly from the wall behind him, the figure was blurry in the dim street light but it was clear it was feminine. He had gone right past her, so entrapped in his thoughts he never noticed that what he had been following sank into the overwelming darkness of the alley. The scent of blood was like a mist now, haunting the dead walls. Had he came further he could have smelt something else as well ... fresh death ... the bitter sweet odor of a corpse. From behind Rin neared him, till only inches stood in between. Her breath, cool as a winter breeze laced the flesh of his neck. Suddenly with a crash of glass the lights had vanished, the scene was strange ... planned ... as thought she had expected him all along.

THe scent was overwhelming and his mind began to spin with dissatisfaction and anger. He caught his breath and willed the smell to go away. He could taste it on the air. He almost hadn't sensed her approaching behind him, but he seemed to become aware when she drew close.

Morose whirled around, his long bangs falling across his forhead, eyes, and cheeks. Anger flared in his ice blue eyes and his lip curled back into a sneer, revealing those god forsaken fangs, still sharp from no use. He raised a fist, big and bulky due to the large hand, and held it in the air for a moment. then he lowered it to his side, his nails bitting into his skin.

"You bitch."

Rin smiled. 'Aren't I though ...' she circled him once then stopped to look him in the face. 'Your cute when your angry ... anyone ever tell you that?' Poor Morose ... he had no clue she had a split personality. She had blacked out when she was stepping away and a new identity took over. Rin sniffed the air and her smile broadened. 'Hmmm beautiful ... Out there somewhere in this mist theres a present for you.' She looked so innocent. 'You know you want it.' Her voice held a wicked edge now, something deeper. 'Go ahead.'

A frown creased his red brows and wrinkled his forhead slightly, giving him an aged appearence to his youthful face and his big solid hands came to his hips, spidering out over his waist. The index finger to his fright hand fidgeted with the belt loop of his pants.

Something wasn't right.

Suddenly, the smell of blood that was not a moment ago only too tempting smelled sour. All too suddenly, this woman had changed from that teading, taunting little creature into a surely evil bitch.

Something was very wrong.

Morose remaind planted to the spot, his head turned slightly to the side and he watched her closely from the corrner of his eyes. He didn't move and he didn't speak. He was watching her closely, closer then was normal.

He had noticed something. Good boy. And now he was watching ... making it more than obvious. Hmmm ... that would go over time. She drew closer, orbs glimmering with a violent shade of color. 'Your not as stupid as you act ... Perhaps there is more than what you choose to see.' She tilted her head slightly combing back a few strands of his hair away from his face. 'You coud be so much better than just this ... if only you would accept it.' There was something deeper than just her trying to get him to fit into the role of a vampire, she had done it to a werewolf not long ago. The poor thing now resided somewhere within the walls of her apartment.

If things would go her way she could use him. Her powers were not very strong ... but perhaps stronger than his. She smiled. The first hint of expression she held since he realized something was terribly wrong with her. She leaned in closely wondering just how far she could get before he would resist.

As she leaned in closely he resisted the urge to lean in closer to her. What? He shook his head slightly. He'd not felt like that before. He who refused to become sexually of emotionally intimate. He of the virgin origin. He who, until Enyo got her teeth on him, had not been touched by a human in over ten years. His cheeks flushed with warmth, but no color.

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with [/I]her[/I]?

Instead of leaning in towards her, he raised one of his large hands and pressed it against her chest, directly below her throat, center to the collar bones and pushed her back away from him. As he did, he took several steps back from her and returned his hands to his hips. He should walk away now. But something kept him from moving. It wasn't the smell of blood eaither.

"Better then what? This?" He guestured to his own thin body with one hand. "What am I to except? That I'm dead? That I'm supposed to kill innocent humans just to sustain my own existance?" His words were quivering with misunderstandment and anger.

He had pushed her away, it was a smart move, a gold star on his forehead. But she was getting under his pale flesh. She had used force with the werewolf ... he could have put up more of a fight ... but none-the-less she won. This would perhaps be won with dangerous words and sweet touches or ... just a blow to his head from behind.

She shook her head slowly daring a step towards him, 'You cannot think of it as death ... death is a coffin beneathe moistened ground rotting for all eternity. You walk the ground ... your breathe the air ... how is this death?' Clouding his mind for only a few seconds she circled him soon appearing at his back. The tips of her ivory fangs laced his flesh and she smiled. 'I can teach you ... not everything has to end in death ... not every bite will kill a human. I can teach you ...' Her eyes watched him, she was expecting and ready to be pushed away once more. But if she could get inside his mind ... use it to her advantage ...

His hand moved from his hip again and he flatened his palm over the wound. It wasn't bleeding, as instinct told him that he should feel moisture beneath his fingers, but instead, remaind a simple open wound. Instinct also told him to run. But, again, somthing was....not telling him not to but rather, like a magnet taking hold. Not releasing him. His feet sent the message to his mind to move but him brain wasn't responding. Suddenly it felt all to wrong not to move and he did.

Right foot one step forward, left foot following in one large step, pivoting on his right heel Morose turned to face her, his long legs had taken him four feet from her. Not enough feet between them to comfort him. How had she gotten there? He could have sworn she’d been in front of him, that he’d not taken his eyes off her. But, for that one brief moment, he’d felt lazily empty.

“I can and I will think of it as death. And I don’t want you to teach me anything.” What did she want to teach him? He knew too little about what vampires were like, could do, could offer each other. He knew all too little of his own new abilities. And never before had he wished so much that Enyo could be here to explain all of this to him. This surprised him. He’d seemed to have taken over dominance between them recently, her having only wanted a friend, not to be a sire. But now he wanted her to help him.

Hmph. She placed her head in a hand and simply shifted her wieght. Her eyes sparkled innocently. 'Hmmm ... thats too bad. Eternity can be so pleasant without all the drama. I just wanted to show you that ... thats all.' Her voice had gone to a cold whisper to a sweet melody, he would catch it, he was smarter than he looked but yet she refused to give in. Sighing softly she spread her arms out in a gesture that signified surrender and smiled. 'Though have whatever you wish ...' She started to walk to the wall, gently she placed a hand on it then pulled it back. Her entire palm was scarlet and moist. 'I suppose I better clean this up.'

Morose grit his teeth and an involentary moan of yearning slipped through his lips when her hand came away from the wall, covered in the blood. But then, as the source of the blood had been revealed to him, he shuddered in disgust. Reality hit him.

Morose gnashed his teeth togather as he realized she'd not only simply been fucking with him, as though he were a mere toy but the scent of the blood, the ally, it had all been a sort of trap. And he'd walked right into it.

Now he stood there, his eyes angry, and thought that now, he would walk away from it. But secretly, his confidence was over ridden. Will she let me walk away?

He turned and took a step away to find out.

She smiled and leaned against a dry peice of a wall stroking her finger over the bloodied brick and sticking in her mouth. 'Ain't it weird how it takes one little thing to suddenly snap a bunch of other little things together.' She shook her head and looked up. 'Wow ...' Her eyes narrowed slightly then her gaze flicked to him. 'Well what are you waiting for sweetheart ... I'm letting you go for now.' It was the last two words she really meant. She would see him later, perhaps bless him with a little visit. Though next time she promised herself to take what she had wanted.