Power to the Morals (one on one)
Scene Name: Alekto and Dutch at Infinity
Date & Time: 08.18.2011 7:00p.m. -6:00 GMT
Characters: Alekto, Dutch


Smooth, sensual music seeps through the room, attempting to hypnotize the very cores of those who find their way to Infinity. In the middle of the room, under a cone of red light, is a bar in the shape of a lemniscate, a sideways 8, the symbol of infinity. This design divides the bar into two sections tended each by separate bartenders.
The establishment, too, is divided in two: The western side is a dance floor, where patrons can dance to the latest beat of music set to strum like a cord of life through the establishment. Lasers shine through the air, sweeping in spellbinding patterns matching the music's rhythm. One the eastern side, various tables and booths are established where one can settle to indulge semi-private moments. Moving between the tables are blood dolls - slaves of various gender, race, and 'flavor'. All of them wear nothing but a black loincloth, draped in various fashions and weaves that seem more in favor of accentuating their assets than offering any modesty. Despite their obviously subservient natures, they wear no collars. These would only certainly get in the way. Instead, a single tattoo is stamped into the flesh of their left shoulders, the side-ways figure eight that marks them as property of Infinity.
The establishment is always packed, and probing too curiously into the dark, shadowed corners of the bar will always reveal a new unsettling site of lust and feeding.

Dutch slinks throw the door and makes his way to the bar, slipping around the crowd of people as to avoid them entirely. The smokey atmosphere making him feel right at home, as he lights up a cigarette, and places an order with the bartender. He props himself against the counter, not feeling like taking a seat yet, a discomfort settling over him for some reason, as he glances over his shoulder and peers about the room, before taking a sip from his freshly delivered glass of chilled blood.

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…" Alekto weaves in through the doorway of Infinity on bare feet, her makeshift gown tickling at her thighs like the whispering fingertips of ghosts eager to caress her undead flesh. The scent around her is of old blood and essence as she drifts through the crowd. Notably, some of the 'blood dolls' stear away from her, while others hurry forward to offer themselves to the Forsaken Mistress. No doubt, the crowd has conflicted feelings towards the dreadlock femme fatal, /almost/ as conflicted as she is with herself. All the same, the pale creature drifts towards the bar, pulls herself atop it, and lays on her side. Her body is turned inward so she can regard the barkeep with a wicked expression. "Hush my darling, don't fear my darling, the lion sleeps tonight." She winks and the barkeep shakes his head and goes back about his business.

Dutch almost spits his drink back out as he sees the woman climb and lay atop the bar, sensing right away she is a kindred spirit, damned for an eternity, although it seems she doesn't share his distaste for the curse…well first impressions at least. His narrow gaze follows her form, as if he may know her, but he is sure he does not. He cannot help but stare a bit, in wonderment as to who the hell she is, unlike anyone in this realm he has ever beheld. He clears his throat slightly, "That's quite the singing voice you have…I've never seen you around here before." He takes another drag from the cigarette without reason really, and goes on, "I'm Dutch, who might you be?" he queries of the vixen.

Slowly, oh-so-painstakingly slowly, those eyes of white lost within the surrounding abyss of blackness, turn towards the source of the addressing voice. When that unnerving gaze finds Dutch, it is unblinking for a long moment before Alekto rolls onto her stomach and draws herself up to all fours. She crawls across the bar with a predator's ease, as if every movement were akin to the call of life and death themselves, drawing her towards this undead creature as if lead upon a taught string.
She reaches out and waves her hand sharply in front of his face, trying to banish the acidic tendrils of cancerous smoke before rolling forward and drawing her nose up the length of Dutch's torso, neck and face - breathing in his scent. "Dutch - of the Animal Walkers," she properly introduces him before sitting back. She folds her legs up out to either side, her thighs tucked close, so that she almost looks like an oversized child perched atop the bar of this wicked establishment. "I am Alekto," she almost chirrups. She turns her visage away then, recapturing the barkeeps attention to order a glass of cinnamon spiced blood from his collection of drinks.

Dutch watches her actions, more animalistic than even his sire. He finds it hard to look away from the white eyes, having never been presented with anything quite like them before, and is a bit surprised by her sniffing over him. As she spouts off his line however, something tells him that he should oblige her and put out the cigarette, which he does, not feeling bad since there wasn't much left anyhow, and leans back still fixated on her. "Alekto…Well you make quite an entrance, you know that?" He smiles vaguely and takes another drink, "I've heard alot about you, seems you are infamous around Nox." He doesn't know exactly why she would come to a place like this to begin with, but then again he recalls a conversation he had the day before mentioning her, and pondering for a moment if that has anything to do with it. "If you would indulge me m'lady, what brings you here today?" His voice rings a little weak, and weary of her business here.

"Infamous?" Alekto sits a bit straighter and allows a blooming smile to encompass her features, an expression that would appear wonderous were it not for the vicious fangs that it exposed. Suddenly, the frown droops and she starts waving a hand beside her ear, hissing to herself something that sounds quite a bit like 'Shut up, you. You, too! Stop your blathering…'
Luckily, the barkeep presents the Lady with her drink, distracting her internal struggle as she accepts the vessel and draws it to her lips. She turns her gaze back to Dutch. "I know of some of the whispers of me that pass from lip to ear in Noxctalis, but it is a fool who listens to what he hears without observing the living truth." She shrugs. "As for what brings me here?" She seems to consider this heavily, wrinkles her nose in a faint snarl, and glares at her surroundings. "At least the aroma of lust for blood and sex is enough to drown the aura of destruction and chaos that has been spread like a blanket of my dear world…" When she turns her face back, her viciousness has been lost to an expression of sadness, a single tear of crimson falling down her tattooed cheek. This one has more moodswings than a bipolar ADD rabbit on cocaine.

Dutch stare a bit blankly, watching the batty vampiress closely. His teeth clench and eyes widen a tad as she talks to herself, maybe swatting away the wandering voices. As she finishes talking and turns back to him, he cannot help but feel compassion towards her, as she seems to be in a great struggle with herself, cursed not only physically, but mentally as well. Carrying around a turmoil. He nods slowly, as he leans forward, the tear drawing him to it for an unknown reason, almost as though he cannot control his actions, as he gently wisps the single tear from her face, and swipes it over his tongue. "Well…then you are well aware of what is going on here now right? The changes that the realm is going through, and the numerously violent outcomes…" He doesn't quite know how she will take his action or if it has happened before, still pondering over why he did it to begin with, but trying oh so hard to just put it out of his mind, she could be a reader. "Your counsel would be welcome on the matter…for I'm troubled by it all.."

Alekto flinches and leans away from the touch, nearly growing cross-eyed in her attempt to watch the forthcoming hand. She stills quickly, though, allowing the single tear to be swept away, which she seems to watch with some form of appreciation as Dutch taste of the physical form of her spent emotion. She cants her head to the side like a curious cat. "I'm in you now," she interjects into their conversation, those unnatural white-on-black eyes trained on the lips that had consumed her bloody tear. Her tattooed cheek smeared, she finally snaps her thoughts out of this curious line of thinking.
The turmoil? Drakth has always been a turmoil. If you wish my counsel on the matter, I suggest you stear clear of him and his. He promises me the world, My World. My Noxctalis back as it was when I was a child. But, he is arrogant if he thinks he can accomplish such. Besides, he is far to busy breeding and expanding - if he understood the value of life. Real life. Human life. He would not perpetuate his line like cockroaches." She sighs and tucks her face back into her drink, breathing in the aroma of cinnamon before taking another sip. "We ah onry a sell of w'at we were, w'at we cooold 'ave been." her words are mumbled with her lips around her glass, her gaze downcast to watch the ripples dancing in the dark, thick fluid within.

Dutch sits still and apathetic, though his muscles tense slightly with anticipation to her response to his action. A sigh of relief washes over him when she simply states she is within him, and he nods. Its the truth, even that small teardrop carrying the essence of everything she was, is, and ever will be. He takes his time to respond and listens to her counsel intently, most things he already knew, but its her attitude toward him that is intriguing, and the way she may feel toward the humans…it being so close to his own, at least he thinks. He leans forward once again, closing the gap between them, but doesn't look her directly in the face. Instead he just takes another drink from his glass, and sets it back on the bar, running fingers over the rim. "So, you disapprove of his methodology as well? I see we have something in common then. This new law is going to be the end of humanity if something is not done to quell the bloodshed, and soon." He finally looks to her, up her side, and over her figure, up to her head, wondering what exactly is going on in there, and if she can be trusted at all.

Alekto says only a single word with an expression of complete intrigue, "Law?"

Dutch raises an eyebrow in return to the one word, not sure if she is just playing or is truly in the dark. Never has he encountered someone so hard to read. "Yes..the new law from the appointed mayoress of Solis." and he quotes, "All vampires shall register upon entering Solis, and have to carry a identification badge with them at all times while visiting." A slight smirk lolls upon his face for an instant at the mere thought, "Its ludicrous, but I understand it in a way. The sad thing is, this could go terribly wrong…even for the vampires. The actions of few, have ensited the wrath of many. I fear it will become to much like the world I left behind…fraught with hatred, and a continuous cycle of death." He finishes his drink off, thinking there was more in the glass as he takes the last of it into his mouth, savoring over it, before swallowing, and looking back to her again.

"Registering," Alekto rolls the word over her tongue, her jaw working from side-to-side as if she were testing its taste on tongue as well as mind. "I do not like it, but…" She scowls and sighs. "I do not venture to the world of the light often. Should I, I would likely not return and meet the Sun for my envy that Solis was not darkened as we have…" She shudders, sloshing a bit of her drink upon the white fabric of her shredded, bed sheet gown. "I guess for those who do venture there is - do they have something to hide? And, better still? Will they surrender their anonymity for the sake of the humans?" She slumps and stills for a moment.
In a suddenly flurry of ivory dreadlocks, she shakes her head back and forth, the braids of woven hair slapping loudly against her bare shoulders. "I cannot worry about Solis. I can only think of what I must do here to rid us of the remaining Decay. I would be sad to see our plague spill into their numbers, but I am sorry, my new Animal friend, but on this I cannot counsel you. You must decide what is right for you alone."

Dutch leans out of the way a bit, as she spasms her dreads back and forth, a little to close for comfort, as she doesn't seem interested in his company, but still a curiosity overwhelms him, and he can't help but run her length once again. "So that's it then? You've nothing else to say?" he grumbles a little reluctantly, and finally states, "I want to do something, anything. I feel so weak and powerless compared to the others though. I know not of this decay, but surely taking the time to help resolve the issue presented before all of our kind that /would/ venture forth, should be addressed. I'm no one." his own self loathing cracking through the cool veneer, and a fist coming down into the bar as he stands, almost in a tremble from the feverish anger tormenting at him. "I…I can't do this alone." he murmurs pathetically. The anger in his face dissipating and becoming emotionless once again. His mind racing at the many scenarios he's ran through his head, time and time again. "If I betray my line…my lord…I am dead, nothing. But I cannot just stand idlely like so many others, or insist upon making this cold woman a martyr…" He trails off, not sure how to appeal to her.

Alekto seems to grow peaceful as Dutch seems to grow in a rage. "I cannot make you powerful. Power does not come from Kindred, or from magick. Power comes from believing in yourself. But, be careful, for too much confidence leads one down the deadly path of hubris. True power comes from making an influence, a difference, and doing what you know is right…" Alekto suddenly hiccups, as if allergic to speaking so long and in such a trained line of thought. She takes a few moments to play with a spider that has scurried its way across the bar, cupping it into her hand to let it crawl with tickling legs up the underside of her forearm.
"All our kind…" she murmurs to the little spider, lifting it towards her face to speak directly to it rather than to Dutch. "He thinks we a separate species from the humans? No, we are a ghost of them, coming back to haunt them… We are merely a shell of their life." She nods to the spider who lifts its front legs and fangs and hisses at the Vampiress. She scowls and deliberately flings the arachnid away, where it lands on a waitress and, like dominos, causes a further stir of spilt drinks, screeches, and swears.
"What is worse, I wonder - to betray one's lord or betray one's self. I would not know. I am neither keeper nor follower of anyone." She slinks from the bar and stands beside Dutch. She pushes to her tiptoes and tries to pat is head - it is like a robot, unfamiliar with social interaction, trying to mimic the motions of comfort that she may have read in a book or scene in a film. "You are not alone, but you cannot loose yourself in the crowd of what you are, either."
She drops her heels back to the floor and grins. "Do you always speak so serious!? Oi! How you make my head heart, young Animal." She laughs a bright, but manic laugh that makes a few slaves chuckle. "Stop searching for answers under rocks and other people's rumps! Search your noodle and your unbeating heart, boy!" She grins and spins in another flurry, starting to skip towards the doorway.

Dutch watches as she skips away, and scowls at the words. There is truth to them but they are twisted and riddled with madness. If one thing has come from the meeting with this goddess amongst the damned, is that he is utterly alone in his drive and ambition, there is no one for him to lean upon. To strength to be had in her counsel or blood it seems. Though he had hoped for the latter. A quickening would have given him the courage outright to stand tall and defiant. But it was not meant to be it seems, and all this only leaves him scarred further by his past. Memories of love, lust, life, happiness.. they are all just some kind of dream, laughing down upon him now. His teeth clench hard enough to ache, and that same familiar heat boils over his forehead. "How am I supposed to help anyone else, when I cannot even help myself. I cannot control this bestial urge to rend flesh, or this heated temper." he mutters through his teeth. Not sure if her hearing was evening keen enough to hear it, as that skipping continues, in a playful fashion. He begins to spiral down, not sure how long he can fall before it will stop. Deeper and deeper into a sleep, as he drops to the floor, unconscious.

Alekto pauses at the door and turns, her white flesh, hair, and dress a silhouette against the darkness outside the doorway. "Sleep on it…" is all she says with a flash of a wink and another flash as she dips out the door.

While he sleeps, Dutch dreams of the world of Noxctalis, but not as it is now. The sun graces the land, and the banks of a blue river lay lush with crops, as he stands atop a hill, peering out over this beautiful world. A shadow cast down from the sky grabs at his attention as he watches it move over the fields, before looking up to see a comet above…

Villagers run frantically now, to and fro, all around him. Some giving chase to others, some holding their heads, and screaming in agony as they rip and tear at their flesh. As he looks around he can now see clearly, the violence, the shear evil and corruption. People gnawing and cleaving. Rending and crunching. Acts of unspeakable darkness. The seeds of pure evil…

Now the world is dark once again, and torturous cries, and pleads are heard from all around in the darkness. As he ventures forward, trudging through the night, he trips over something… "What was that?" he thinks, feeling about in the blackness, until his hands course over a mangled body, just as he hears a savage shriek, piercing his ears, and causing him to cup over them tightly. There is a clashing of the trees around and the sudden feel of breath on his neck…

A lone figure stands over thousands of corpses in the moonlight. The bodies strewn about the banks of, what he recognizes as, the River Styx. The blood from the bodies flowing down the already saturated banks and coloring the river red. The figures head hanging low, and hands coming up to clench at its hair, looking to be quite long. Dutch goes to step back, but utters the slightest breath, and instantly it knows he is there, its gaze of gleaming from the moonlight, with white eyes…

The place is different now, but the figure is close, whimpers and rants drawing him in closer, not knowing why he isn't running away. Closer he gets, until he sees a familiar face…Alekto. She screams to herself wildly, and swings through the air as if tearing something to pieces, but nothing is there. He musters up his voice and tries to reach out, "Hey, hey! It's okay! Your okay! Can't you hear me?!" he shouts to her, more than once. His hand going to tug on her shoulder passes through her form entirely, and panic is rushed in. "What's going on?! What's going on?!" his eyes wide and a fear creeping upon him now. "Shhhh." A shadowy figure hovering about her says towards him, before turning back to hiss unto her, "They deserve to die…Kill! Kill! Kill! Tear there flesh! Eat their souls!" it hisses over and over again. He tries his hardest to bat the shadow away, and screams at her to come to her senses, telling her how precious life is, how she shouldn't listen, he even begs her not to listen. A more calm head raises from those bloodied hands, and looks directly towards him now, the tears there, but he can see the peace starting to swell…he is getting through to her! His heart bounds harder, as Dutch tries to talk some more sense, but the shadow is stronger, and as it talks, she mimics its words and tone, "Enough you pathetic maggot!! You fucking coward!! You are nothing!! You are weak!! She is mine!!! Mine!!!! MINE!!!!!" the voice booms…

That raspy, evil tone still clinging to his mind as he wakes, in the alley next to Infinity, his head throbbing. The voice echos again and again. The Decay? Was it real? How did I get here? All these questions flow through his mind, but more importantly, as he stands sweeping the debris of the dank corridor from himself, he knows what he has to do, and understands things more than ever now, though he might never be able to explain.

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