2015-09-28-ZaraEmbrace

Zara's Embrace
Attending Vera's request, Anezka brings Zara into the world of the undead
IC Date	September 28th, 2015
IC Time	Evening
Players	Anezka, Zara
Location	Earthly Delights, and then the Desert

Begin Log

Early in the evening, an hour after dusk, Anezka sends a text message to Zara. 'Meet me at the Earthly Delights at 9:00pm sharp. Before coming I want you to take a shower, groom yourself, and eat your favorite meal. I will be waiting at one of the tables, with more instructions.'

Zara arrives at 9PM, just as she was bade. Her car is parked in a building overnight, and she looks freshly cleaned. Her hair cleaned, straightened and conditioned so it's more like a river of perfect, dark strands than long locks. Her ornate glasses pushed high up on her face, make-up applied. A flowing black silk blouse covers her top half, lace like detailing done in a slight gloss to give it some texture. And a long, black dress, ends in delicate black shoes with a slight heel. She looks around, for her hostess.

Anezka is seated at one of the tables that surround the dance floor. Her eyes roam the crowd, watching their faces blink into existence with each flash of the stroboscopic light. Once she sees Zara, she raises one hand, and stands. After a few quick steps, she stands before her guest. "Vera sends her regards." Two polite kisses, cheek to cheek. "You look lovely." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes, they have something darker behind them.

Zara nods slowly. She watches Anezka for a moment, having returned their kisses, before she parts her lips to speak. Her movements are slow, careful and considered. "You look wonderful as well. Is there something... Special planned for tonight?" She asks quietly.

Anezka nods. "Follow me." She guides Zara towards the VIP Lounge, one of the bulky bouncers lifting the velvet rope. "I love a good cliche, so I'm going to give you the choice I never had..." Her smile is wide, still inside human standards, but her fangs are visible. "After you." The door is open, behind it a curtain to keep prying eyes from perceiving the other room.

Inner Sanctum

This room is made from the stuff of nightmares. The walls, like many cathedrals of old, are formed from black stone sculpted into forms of torment. Twist-backed humans arch and writhe motionlessly, captured at moments of supreme agony, their wide eyes and screaming mouths shaped by sadistic devotion. Shaped. Not carved.

The Inner Sanctum is in a fine voice tonight - an opera of bass moans, piercing cries, and the ululating chime of sobbing beneath the other sounds of sorrow. The central pathway is made of black stone, while the floor either side of the walkway ripples and tenses with the pliancy of human expression. Eyes, noses, teeth, and tongues poking from open mouths... The ground itself is a carpet of faces flesh-crafted together, kept alive by grotesque, baroque blood sorcery; its undead arteries and veins beneath the floor, keeping them moist.

The Osseous Throne sits at the end of the black stone pathway. Majestic in its ghastly opulence, the ivory seat made of fused bone fits properly as the central piece of this chamber of horrors; the Magnus Opus created by the Mistress of this domain. Beside it there is a baptismal bowl, made of the same material, and filled with blood. Hard arteries run upwards on its pedestal, feeding the cacophonous and hellish existence of the souls trapped here.

Resume Log

Zara follows slowly, patiently, her eyes linger on those fangs for just a few seconds before she steps into the VIP area, ducking under the curtain... And she hesitates there. There's a visible, audible drawing of breath at what she spies. It takes a good few seconds before she can take a step forward. And another. She's dealt with things like this before. She has. The second step is harder, as she notices the walkway, and she flinches away... Taking a half step back, drawing her arms around herself and looking away from the path ahead. She's... Only human. And this is so much more than that.

Anezka stands behind Zara, hands resting delicately at her shoulders. "Beautiful, isn't it." A gentle squeeze. "Makes wearing human skin as articles of clothing pale in comparison." The vampire guides the human, step after step, following the black stone path amid the sea of faces. As eyes linger on Anezka, the cries raise in pitch, the tidal fluctuations of pain and suffering expanding on the never still floor. "Being a vampire is so much more than sleeping all day and partying all night. We're at war, and a person that deserves to join or ranks has to be strong." She steps around Zara, claiming her seat at the throne, crossing her legs elegantly. "I will offer you mercy three times. If you accept it, I will just snuff the life out of you. If you deny me three times, I will make you immortal. If you just crack, and lose your mind... You will join my garden." She runs her fingertips on the Osseous Throne arm. "Do you understand me?"

"I..." Zara is lost for words. She's numbed herself, to allow one foot to walk in front of the other when she wants to... Scream. And run. The humanity in her torn at by the cries of pain, by the eternal suffering of those that surround her. It... It's all beyond real. She walks so slowly, the black stone unyielding under her feet. The slightest nod follows Anezka's words, as she tries to focus only on the woman who has brought her here.

Anezka raises both arms, and the cries and moans and wailing shimmer down to small sobs. "Vera asked me to make you immortal. She likes you very much, but her blood is too old... also her lineage isn't welcomed among the clans." She dips one finger on the baptismal bowl, drawing a line that goes down from her forehead to the tip of her nose with blood. "Immortality is brutal. Part of your soul will die, and awaken as a ravenous beast that will rattle and roar inside of you. Always hungry, always demanding blood. If you let this beast take over, your conscious mind will slip away. You will kill. There is no escape." She stands once more, and the floor ripples with every movement of the Lady of this domain. "Do you want to be one of us?"

Zara looks around those who have been imprisoned in here of a sort at those words. Forcing herself to look, as she's bathed in the suffering of others, their words washing her ears... "It is a heavy weight." She settles on, her voice not much louder than the sobs of the damned. Her eyes fall back on Anezka, and she finds her voice, a little louder. "I will bear it. Yes." There's still such fear in her. And a resolute determination.

Anezka nods, acknowledging Zara's choice. "The first seal is broken." She steps forward, hands holding the mortal's arms. "All vampires are descendants of the first murderer. He transformed three powerful persons: Enoch the wise, Erad the strong, Zillah the beautiful. These immortals 'embraced' thirteen more. These thirteen are the founders of the vampire clans. We call them antediluvians." Her expression is grave. "When an ancient becomes too powerful, the blood of mortals is no longer enough to sustain them. They feed from vampires just like we feed from mortals. Right now, these antediluvians slumber beneath the earth, but it's known that one day they will arise, and drain all creatures alive and undead. This is the war I told you, for they have minions preparing their apotheosis. If you accept my embrace, will you join me in the fight against this vampire puppets and their puppet masters?"

There's a pause there, as she wonders what truth lies behind the mythos, how it compares with the lore she knows, all while around her, reminders of this battleground are lingering. She bites her lower lip for a moment, but... The truth in her desires makes the decision simple. Just like this decision... It is one of a survivor. "I will."

Anezka nods once more. "The second seal is broken." She guides Zara past the throne, all the way to the back wall. Hanging from chains, there are two figures that may have been human, but not anymore. Female figures, surely, completely encased in latex and leather. Their heads are sealed into hoods and full face masks, not a single inch of skin visible. Their bodies are beautifully sculpted with large breasts and tight abdomens locked in corsets. Their arms and legs were surgically removed, only the two inches long stumps wiggling as they writhe in bondage. "Newly embraced vampires are known as childer, the ones who embrace are known as sires." She motions to the figures. "These are my offspring. They failed to follow the most basic rules of our kind, and the penalty for such behavior is death." She runs a hand on the head of a gimped creature. "I hate killing, so I decided to entomb them here. As a reminder to what happens when a childe disappoints me." Anezka turns and looks into Zara's eyes. "Vera will be your surrogate sire. She will teach you, with me. We have a set of laws named Code of Milan. Love it, or hate it, we live or die by it. Will you uphold our laws, knowing the price of failure?" The vampire adds. "I must warn you that Vera isn't as merciful as I am."

There's a pause when she's lead. Zara knows nothing pleasant will be behind the throne, and her fear is rewarded with torsos, heads and feminine figures. The terminology isn't lost on her, she doesn't seem shocked as it, as she is with what she is seeing. To her own offspring... The touches cause Zara some distress, but she quells it quickly, biting her lower lip fiercely. Survival. That's what this is for. "I will." The price of non compliance is death. The price of failure is similar.

Anezka nods. "The final seal is broken. You have chosen your fate." She holds Zara hand just like a mother would do on her daughter's first day at school. "We are going for a ride. I have some nice people that you are going to meet." Soon the nightmare is left behind, and Anezka crosses the main room of the club like nothing so horrible is just a door away. Outside the club a big ass Lincoln Continental from the mid 60's pull to the curb, the valet nodding to Anezka as she slides into the driver's seat. The man holds the door for Zara, the bulge of a gun obvious under his white shirt.

Nice people. The word is dead to her, and there's a hollowness to her gaze that reveals that something Human in Zara has already died. It was everything should have wanted to see with every fiber of her being a month ago. It was what she was sent here to find. But the true, suffering, macabre nature of what she just experienced took a heavy toll on the young woman. The gun is barely even acknowledged, she wanders over to the other side and sits in the passenger seat. Hands gathered into her lap. Eyes ahead.

Anezka drives her car, humming softly some melody that is a bit dissonant. "Anything you learned today could work into a book?" She asks casually, turning on the radio, but keeping it at a lower volume. "I love Clive Barker. Kinky old fag that writes good horror. I borrow some of his ideas for my creations, and maybe one day will embrace him." Houses and buildings become sparser, as she enters the desert. Out of the city, she turns off the lights, driving at a decent speed against a pitch black road. Slowly her eyes start to glow a malevolent red.

Zara thinks for a moment. And then... "I don't know." She settles on, musing inside her own head for a moment. "Clive Barker relies too heavily on the readers investment." She offers her own opinion on the Author, "Which is fine until you have a different opinion leading up to a critical point." The girl doesn't touch the idea of borrowing from him for her creations. She clings to that small shred of humanity right now.

Anezka nods. "Yeah, I have this feeling that he's writing for me." She drives in silence for twenty minutes, then she turns out of the interstate and follows a dirt road. The path is sinuous, with lots of curves that are difficult to work in broad daylight. Anezka aces them thanks to her eyes and some previous knowledge of the path. After a while, she approaches a group that is sitting around a fire. Two pickup trucks are parked around the campers, and Anezka positions her car on an open spot. "We're here." She opens the door and leaves the car.

There are two couples sitting by the fire. A tall and muscular woman with a blond mohawk and lots of tattoos hugs a muscular guy, sans tattoos; and a skinny Asian girl leans against a surfer dude, with blonde dreadlocks. Anezka points to the blonde girl. "That's my sestra, Polina. Sestra means sister in English." The couples look and wave, greeting Zara and Anezka.

Zara lets that comment sit, watching the winding path with her hands gently placed in her lap. Her nails dig into her palm every so often, a dummy test to make sure she's still awake. She's not dreaming. She bites her lower lip a little. Soon she near a small campfire, and she's getting out of the car without realizing it. Only a small nod greets the information that Anezka has a sister, who looks so different. And the others. Her hand rises unbidden, she waves gently.