(you can post as anyone you want to.)

(I am as Gabrielle, but will not be posting for a while to let the scene build up first. Louis and I have agreed to that.)

ooc:AAHHHH!! my post disappeared!I am going to post my intro now, there appears to be no one else posting anyways...


The cool wind was blowing fervently over the not quite sleepy town of New Orleans. The people still seeing fit to go out so late at night, shopping or in the case of minors, hanging out with their friends. Also in some cases being fed off of by some of the rouge, yet young generation of vampires. The ones not really ready to be on thier own but still to refractive to know better than to hunt in an older and more knowledged immortals territory. These being the case here where Gabrielle was looking to take part in pest control, for Armand was not here at the moment probably off somewhere trying to please his first and only fledgling to no avail.

Gabrielle, tall especially for a female of her time, peircing blue eyes, the mirror image of her son and father in death. Hiding in the shadows was never really her thing but unlike Lestat she would not make a public showing of herself, she would not even go into the infamous blood bar housed here. It held too many people and vampires alike, that would mean too much attention. But as for her prey...that there was plenty of and they can't stay there all night long. She was prepared to wait for one in particular, a rouge of maybe half a century, and headstrong to boot! This would be her first subject and she would finish him off before he could get on her nerves.

Following him for three nights, she noticed a pattern with his ventures: first to find the much needed blood, for he could not go without it, then wander the streets always in the same direction, Pointe du Lac, and lastly to the overcrowded blood bar. Always the same, she knew this one would die quickly.

ooc: no that was a good one, i like the madness of it...or it could just be me...

ic: Stalking her prey in the dead of the night is only really rewarding when the weak or even anemic subject has found out they are being watched. They can not control either the fear or the wonder at what could possibly be watching them. Gabrielle finally got a reaction out of Dominai, he finally felt her presence, and now she could really start the fun. For what is hunting without a bit of a chase in it? The satisfaction would be none and there would have been no use to spill the blood.

The moonlight just enough to hide her from the young vampire along with her own methods of keeping herself hidden. She watches as he looks around in complete maddness, not knowing whats really out there. Unknowledged of his soon to be fate, just need to lurk him far enough away that the sudden burst of flame won't disturb anyone. Or maybe she could talk to him, get him so confused on how things really are...Maybe, but that might take too long, although she does have eternity to do as she pleases. But an eternity here, amongst civilization and pointless blood bars every few towns did not sound appeasing.

Gabrielle stood silently for a while, contemplating the best method by which to go by, not noticing the pulsating of another immortal edging closer. It had not got a lock on her location but the fact that it had the right direction was not a good thing. Snapping back to life Gabrielle quickly found him, it wasn't a hard feat for he was panting rather noisily from complete amazment. She knew it confrontation would happen this very night if he was not careful.

The light flooded onto the damp streets, the tiny neglected specs of soil and stones scattered the wet and cold pavement.
It was a humid night near the Draculas Daughter, an immortals playground. The air was thick and salty, the smell of various fragrances mingled within
the un-mistakenable mortal odor. So powerful was this smell, it summoned a creature, pale as basalt, tall as a god, seeming to tower over the
benches and signs, leavening the objects in darkened shadows. This being walked without a care, hearing his own footsteps, the sound making a
calming beat on the street, he whistled non-chalantly as a mortal would. A bawdy tune emitted from him, a far off song, a lost song of achent
times and ancient beliefs. He studied the lone mortal that sat upon the bench drunk, intoxicated with cheap wine and hurt with a worthless
humans false love, her heart torne in agony. Large cobolt orbs stared at her, the neat eyebrows that rose were colored golden, seeming to be
fine stroke of a bush. Long magnificent blonde hair cascaded down broad shoulders, resting upon his attire that was red velvet.

A simple outfit,
trimmed, but was worn with carelessness as the immortal gazed at the drunken woman with emptiness. His hands raked through his hair, that
gentley curled, tiny droplets of left over rain decorating his beautiful features. Long deatailed fingers were home to prized rings, finely sculpted
fingers, Artists tools. His hands rested in his pockets, such a mortal gesture, how lovly. He felt nothing, but a pain of memories lingered. He felt
normal, nothing. Human. As he ascended upon the fragile thing that lay slumped against the bench, they mystified eyes slowly traceing the ouline
of the brilliant handsome finger that now stood before her. A drunken smile spread over her face, he took her into his arms, cradeling her neck.
Oh the blood, just a tiny kiss, a little taste. He kissed her gently, then his fangs went through her, like tiny ivory spears, they sought to kill.
He sucked, his tonge lapping at the blood, tasteing the sweet necter, his body healing and warming with the elixer.

The heartbeats rushed
through his scences, the death waltz began with a quickend beat. His veins flowed with blood, restoreing themselves, but to be fully healed,
more murders must be commited. With much effort he stopped, hateing his actions, actions that his body can never be truly satasfied. I cannot
do this! He let the dead body rest on the bench, the brunette hair falling in waves, the heart movineg no more, nor did her tender eyelids. He
stared at his victim, his councience not plaged with the notion of killing an innocent, this woman mettled with crime after crime. He slowly walked
away, head bowed in silence. This moster, that clawed at his mind, and his very being and hungerd for blood, for death. This was not Marius
DeRomanus, this was not the one with roman reason and educated logic who saw wisdom in the human flesh, the one who cared for life and all
this mortal! He carlessly neanderd to the nearby bench that rested under the lamp, he relaxed in it, his mind open and easy reading. His hair was
a wild lions mane, shineing in the light, dark eyes searching for nothing. Did he care, no, what was left for him now?

Marius the keeper, the
forgotten god, the painter, the adivce giver, the learner, the teacher, could not fanthom his existance. He who helped others with this task could
no longer help himself! " So tis true, we have no purpose, we never did, never will..." He murmerd with low tone and a sigh, the intoxication
of the blood seeping through him, swallowing him, his thoughts, actions. His eyes closed, and drew in a slow breath. He searched, wandering,
uttering a long forgotten name.

Anyone?

Soon a crowd of voices and images rushed into his mind, a traffic of irruptions. In the streets the children screamed, the lovers cried,
the poets dreamed. Image upon image, voice upon voice crept into his mind, some from far off lands, echoing the langages of French, Italian,
and even Chinese. But where was the brat prince or his fledglings, the ones he adored and looked upon in favor, he too is haunted by dreams like the Brat prince.
How many times has suicide enterd his mind, oh so many, now is the time to give in. Over 3000 years, now tis time...

ooc: wow, this may be extremely long for i have just read a very horrific story by someone who hasn't the slightest idea on how to write anything at all. don't worry though, it was no one on here. and for the sake of everyone here and to keep this person from dieing from embarasment i will not tell you where i have read this muy horrible...thing

ic: complete and udder melancholy filled the air as she sensed that quite powerful immortal. something familar hanging about it, but something she could not grasp, it evaded her by only a mere foot. this thing she could not know, it bugged her, she hated not knowing what was going on but she could not leave the spot where she currently perched. but for the life of her, or death, she could not remember why, this urgnet feeling of fear interupted her flow of thoughts and brought her off track even more. She did not know what was going on, total confusion errupting in her mind. So she stopped everything and tried to focus on one thing at a time.

First was this place, why was she here? What was keeping her usually much stronger legs still? stop, look around and find out exactly where you are. The trees not yet looking familar in her mind's eye, but slowly coming into focus were distant buildings. Buildings with incandescent lights filling the windows, and other buildings completely dark to the mortal eye. but there, right in front of her and in between the front door of what looked to be a bar was another immortal. though this one was weak and megar, quite stupid and fear filled as well. Memories came racing back to her then: she was hunting him, had followed him around for a few days actually and was just thinking of the best place and method to kill him. it would not be hard, he was not even a century old yet.

That now well known whining that resonated from somewhere close also registered in her brain, the name coming a little slower than the memory of it's origins. Mixed with all of this powerful emotion though was still that fear from the young, incorridgible one. It would not subside and was growing with every second she delayed forcing her frozen limbs to move again. The night was still young and she had plenty to do, she wanted to run to the aid of the ancient, but she wanted to finish her job here and rid this pleasent town of all the vermin that had collected over the last half century or so. a soft sound escaped her mouth, not one that could be heard by any younger than her, but one all the same.

"Marius"

That's it, she thought, that is who this insatiable cry is coming from. That sweet Roman with the bright blue eyes, skin pale much like her own, and that blond hair, such rich golden hair. She now longed to help him, to get him moving on again, for he surely was not meant to be sad. Depression could not be somehting he felt, he was 3000 years old! That could not be something he still knew, it could not be and she did not want to let it be. With all her strength she tried to move, to will herself over in his company, but to no avail. She did not have that power, nor would she for quite some time. Drank from the fount that brought the first brood to life she had not, not like her Lestat had, and not like the lonely Marius had. Finally her incestant urge to kill, had faded, she lifted a ghostly hand to her ear trying to hear what Marius was feeling.

But still...that sense of control you get when killing another being, was calling out to Gabrielle. Torn between two evils she was and did not know how she would get out of it. Did not know...

The wind was slightly blowing, just barely rustling the leaves in the many trees that grew around the area. Though not enough to make the slightest ripple on any standing water, the wind found it's way to Gabrielle. Caressing her soft features, trying it's hardest to pull at her hair and failing horribly in the process. Blowing past her without the slightest care if she was in an internaly raging turmoil situation. The wind would not play a part in the final outcome and so had no reason to pay attention to all the mixed emotions it was carrying and softly throwing at all the inhabitants of this cozy and half-asleep town.

ooc: hehe, i told you it would be long...ZD