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alderwitch

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Taylor had been planning on a quiet night at home, for once, after the brief trial of settling her five year old down to bed. Unsurprisingly, JJ was largely nocturnal by nature so keeping him on a regular schedule was rather critical to make sure he got enough rest to go to Nicholson. Once their son was down to bed, Taylor had fetched a book, intending to curl up in her chair in Jack's office until he was done with his evening's phone calls. Of course, if Taylor was having a quiet night, that more or less guaranteed that Jack's evening was just the opposite. 

 

That was how she found herself answering the alarm on one of the blood banks serving the vampiric community not all that long after sunset. 

 

"'Baby, can you get that for me?'" The ghostly effect of that echoing voice was somewhat ruined by her grumbled words. Phantom appeared in the back of the darkened blood bank, an imposing figure in her cloak and cowl that billowed in wind only the guardian seemed to feel. Despite her appearance, her muttering was more vaguely disgruntled wife than Chosen of Heshem, for all that it echoed hollowly in the empty room. Her eyes glowed briefly as she switched to scanning the room. Her spouse remained too charming by half. Still, how hard could it be to route whatever had set off the alarms? "Look, come on out. I'm not here to hurt you."

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Damn, Nicola silently cursed.  She had been certain she disabled the blood bank's alarms--only temporarily, she would have turned them on when she left--but apparently she must have missed something.  And considering the response to her intrusion the young vampire fervently wished she could have slipped even deeper into the shadows.

 

"Let's say I believe you," she eventually answered Phantom.  She still clung to her hiding place, not necessarily because she felt she could remain hidden, but just for the illusion of comfort.  She'd been doing a lot of that lately.  "You could leave and let me get what I came for, stopping me from doing that is hurting me."

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"I really can't. I'd never hear the end of it," Phantom's amusement almost came across in her sepulchral tones. Oh, it wasn't that she'd be in trouble but the teasing for losing track of a young vampire would be endless. She gave a shake of her head under the shadows of her cowl, the fabric rustling softly with her gesture. Briefly, she considered just nabbing the vampire but she really didn't want this to turn into a thing
"Look, if you need blood, we'll see that you get it. But you really need to come with me and I really don't want to have to wrestle you."

 

She sighed and added, "I'll bring you to the guy who owns these places. He'll see that you get fed." Phantom probably should have used the proper terms but she always felt a little ridiculous invoking Jack's vampiric title and most vampires seemed to take it amiss when she couldn't say 'king' with a straight face. 

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"I have your word?" Nightingale asked stepping from her hiding place.  The young vampire's movements were preternaturally graceful as she approached Phantom hands open and to her sides to convey she had no hostile intent.

 

Her clothing was all dark grays and blacks, a housebreaker's harness with a number of pouches and hooks for tools was briefly visible under the long coat she wore. Dark brunette hair framed her pale flesh though her eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades and around her neck was a choker from which dangled a cross.

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"You have my word. I'll take you to the man in charge directly," Phantom said with a relieved sigh as the young woman stepped out. She was pleased it wasn't going to devolve to having to wrestle a young vampire into her pocket. Although Taylor was reasonably certain that she'd be able to take most vampires at this point, her track record with their kind... wasn't actually all that stellar. There were certainly arguments to be made that her one weakness wasn't fire but actually the undead. Her glowing gaze dropped to the choker and she paused before adding, "Though, you'll need to cover up that necklace."

 

Phantom's cloak parted enough that she offered out one gloved hand. Beneath the billowing folds, it was clear she was floating well above the ground. Phantom was compact and fit, and the hand she extended out was clad in black leather up to her bicep. "If you take my hand, I can take us there right now."

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"Oh," Nightingale answered reaching up to undo her choker and slipping it into a pocket on the inside of her jacket.  When she withdrew her hand she had a blood bag in her hand.  "Here," she said handing the bag to Phantom, "I don't want you getting in trouble when he, whomever he is, finds out I stole from him."

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Phantom took the blood bag gingerly with her other gloved fingertips. Oh, Taylor didn't have an aversion to blood - she really couldn't with her family - but there was no place to put it in her costume unless she wanted to chuck it into the Void and that was just asking for spoiled blood to end up floating in there for weeks. Her gloved hand was cool as she closed it around Nicola's, her grip really rather gentle although it was firm. The folds of her cloak billowed up to surround them both and Nicola was pulled through the sucking cold of the Void and its endless black sky broken only by bright flashes not unlike lightning against the expense of endless nothing. It lasted for less than a heartbeat before they landed neatly on the stone floor.

Edited by alderwitch
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Teleportation delivered Nicola into a room out of vampire lore - recent vampire lore, anyway. She found herself standing before a raised throne that glistened like black obsidian, its arms curled like the talons of a great beast and a human skull mounted at its top. Seated in the chair was a magnificently muscular vampire, built tall and broad to go with his grace, who looked in his mid-twenties, his skin alabaster pale and long black hair streaming down his back. She had a good look at that alabaster skin because he was naked from the waist up and his tight leather pants below were the sort of thing a man really could only wear for long if breathing was optional for him. Torches guttered on the stone walls all around them, casting the room into a flickering light that was eerie even for one who could peer into the darkness itself. She could feel the power crackling in the room, ancient and terrible, as the vampire king looked down upon her, a perfect figure of undead puissance, and declared, "What do you bring before me, Chosen of Heshem?" 

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Despite herself and the situation she was in Nicola laughed.

 

"This is a joke, right?" she asked her accent coming through a little thick as she gestured at the extravagance.  "Put a shirt on you strutting peacock." Oh crap, did I say that out loud? Nicola thought to herself looking suddenly abashed.  She coughed and tried again.  "I was promised food."

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Phantom didn't gasp, but there was a small pause in her movements and a small motion under the hood like she looked towards Nicola and stopped the gesture, "And you got the 'sexy' routine instead of the 'scary' one. That one is much less pleasant,Phantom commented, almost in a conversational aside. Floating forward to Jack's throne, she tucked the bag of blood a little irreverently between two of the 'fingers' of the throne, "I brought you a hungry vampire. I think..." She paused, turning her hooded head, as she hadn't actually double-checked that first. There was a flash of light from beneath the dark shadows as she cast the spell and then shrugged, "Yeahp, Vampire."

 

Her cloak rippled as she moved past, to perch on the other arm of the throne largely buried under the voluminous folds of her cloak. As she solidified to sit, her voice dropped into much more human cadences, "I'm against shirts, personally. This is a good look. Oh, I like the torches. Are those new?"

 

There was a reason when they'd worked together that Phantom's job was mostly to stay silent and let her other half do the intimidating.

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Avenger crossed his legs and stared at Nicola, a king perfectly confident in the seat of his power, especially with his dread mate at his side. He reached up with one hand and idly rested his hand on Phantom's back, stroking her lightly as he did so. It was all right - she had ways of demonstrating her status in their marriage privately. "Hm. Don't be a peasant, woman - an inability to appreciate drama will serve you poorly in your new life." He smiled, showing teeth - all of them. "But you are hungry! There is food here for our kind in plenty. Tell me your name for my hospitality." I'll have to buzz Daisy and have her bring the bags downstairs, he thought. JJ can probably be left on his own for a few minutes without trying to chew through the walls...this time. 

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"Sister Nicola," she answered stressing the title somewhat, not because she was trying to talk herself up but just because she was trying to cling to who she was.  "I am, or rather was, a nun.  This may be difficult to believe but Church life is not exactly free from drama."  She made a throwing away gesture with her hand, like she was discarding that train of thought.

 

"And just who are you?" she now asked, raising a dark eyebrow.  "Other than not being the person I was hoping you'd be."

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The folds of Phantom's cloak settled around her, giving the vague sense of a feminine form somewhere under the layers but not much more than that. Her perch on the throne looked much less 'pet' and much more 'lurking, malevolent apparition. With the dramatic shadows in the room, only the bottom half of the woman's face was even remotely visible under her deep hood. Unseen, her brows arched up, "Hrmmm," was her comment about the woman's previous ecclesiastical status. That was a rough tradition. There were precious few orders remotely compatible with a life of un-death.

 

"Who were you hoping for?" Phantom asked with some roused curiosity, her voice more human now that she'd taken solid enough form to sit. 

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A figure appeared in the iron-barred doorway at this moment, a classically gorgeous young woman with pale skin and platinum blonde hair, wearing a tightly tailored business suit that fit her like a glove. Walking carefully into the room, she shot an inquiring look at the vampire king, half-raising her red-gauntleted fist before Jack waved her off. With that, she shrugged and reached into the purse she wore on her other side, tossing a full-nearly-to-bursting blood bag to Nicola. 

 

He studied Nicola as she took the bag, waiting to make sure he did not speak over her eating. He knew from personal experience it wasn't easy to listen then. "Nicola, this is Daisy, one of my young associates," said the vampire king with a lordly gesture. Sighing a little as he let his wife take the role of dark predator she played so well (so _very_ well), Faretti studied her before saying, "I am Jack Faretti, king of the vampires of Freedom City. Welcome to my home. Who were you expecting to meet tonight?" 

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The blood bag halted in mid flight, turned gracefully, and then slowly settled into Nicola's hand.  Hungry as she was she wasn't going to risk missing the toss, this 'King' seemed the arrogant type that'd suggest she eat off the floor if she did.  "What use do monsters have for a King?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to not think of the bag of blood in her hand.

 

"I was looking for the one that made me," she answered.  Talking made her not think about eating, and she hated eating in front of others.  "So I could kill him.  Tell me, have you heard of one calling themselves Mactep?  Or Master, in English."

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"Hrmm. Russian." That was Phantom's comment, phrased more like she was talking to herself but it was actually pitched for her spouse's ears. Jack had picked up many things over the years, but languages had been Taylor's bailiwick long before she adopted the cloak and cowl. "Russian and pretentious." The last was her own opinion. Seriously, what sort of person went around calling themselves master. Under her dark hood, she gave her spouse a sidelong glance. A small smile curved her lips, barely noticeable in the shadows.

 

"I hear that's a problem for some as they age, though," her words were dry, laconic, but she was definitely teasing her husband.

 

Her attention shifted back to Nicola, as she offered the explanation, "Jack keeps the vampires in the city in order and supplied with options so they don't turn violent and problematic. Freedom City is not a good place for violent, problematic vampires. Too many super heroes." Phantom's voice was studiously neutral. Oh, it wasn't that she disagreed with the plan in practice but the toll it took on Jack, on his morality, that was a private concern. 

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"I'll talk to Dimitri. Damn his eyes, he said he thought all the Russians in town knew to behave themselves," Jack muttered to himself. Steepling his hands, he said to Nicola, "We do not typically destroy each other - but there are crimes among us that mortal laws have no powers to punish." Typically, for the sake of Jack's soul, if nothing else, that meant a semi-permanent exile to the Void - but there was no reason to dwell on that in front of the new arrival. "Can you tell us about what happened to you?" He phrased the question, and made it a question, for the sensibilities of a young religious who might have been through a grim fate before she came to his door. 

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  • 3 months later...

Nicola silently regarded the King and his consort for what seemed like ages, and it was clear from the set of her eyes and mouth that she didn't really want to talk about it.  She held onto the bag of blood and considered feeding instead of answering in spite of her reluctance to perform that sort of activity in front of others.

 

Still, she sighed, took a breath she didn't need and told her tale, all of it.  From the time she ran away from home, through the time she spent roaming the streets and eventually falling in with the Bratva, followed by her life in prison and finally the convent where her life effectively ended.

 

She talked of those first few days of maddening hunger, of learning that normal food no longer sustained her, and horror when she discovered what sort of monster she had became.  Sinking to the ground, she talked in a quieter voice about her interaction with the church once she began her unlife, how their sympathy and remorse at what happened to her cut even more deeply since it was obvious that she was no longer welcome among them.

 

But even then, they wanted to use her as a weapon against the unholy, and so they directed her along the path The Master took and how she ended up in America.

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Jack looked uncertain for just a moment, a crack in that regal armor. "I'm sorry to hear that. We'll do everything we can to make your stay in this city more comfortable." If you are what you say you are, anyway. "Many of us do retain a religious outlook despite our transformation." He thought fast, sorting through the list of those beneath him who took their religion as more than just a perverse fetish. "I can give you some names. As for the man that did this to you, we can help you find him and give him the justice he deserves. That is a pledge with all my heart," he said solemnly. "You may have a King - but you need have no Master in this city save yourself. We're Americans." 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Phantom was no where near as good as her spouse at keeping a poker face, but that was why she wore the cowl and mask largely. "We are very good at finding people.Her words were mild yet somehow menacing although that was not aimed at Nicola. She shifted then, her tattered cloak shifting and finally parting before she reached out one gloved hand to give Jack's hand a light pat, as if she were intending to soothe him. It was an oddly domestic gesture for the scene and setting, "More to the point, this is Freedom City and you might not know the history here, but Jack's fought very hard to ensure that life here... you can define what you want to be. Who you want to be."

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