genessia | iv. The Aftermath [video]

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iv. The Aftermath [video]

[This delightful little feed begins in the middle of the day right at twelve noon. Augustine is seen sitting at the table in his lovely apartment looking positively agitated. Why is he agitated, you ask? Well, he has several reasons and one such reason deals with the hilarity that unfolded this week during Easter. Augustine has a glass of a wine at his disposal along with a glass that is half empty at this point. Seems that alcoholism is a common staple around here but if anyone asks, Augustine will claim he's having a "salad" instead. Grapes are fruit, yes? So this is a fruit salad, not wine.

Despite looking positively wroth, Augustine is dressed to the nines as usual in this lovely black brocade suit with a hint of white lace at the collar. Who designs these lovely suits? Augustine will never tell his secrets lest he wants everyone biting off his impeccable fashion sense. Nevertheless, he's an angry sod dressed in a very handsome suit.]

...Shall we agree to never discuss what transpired? If so, then agreed.

[He tips his glass in a mock cheer before drowning the rest of its contents.]

Now, tell me. Why is it that such lunacy happens here? I see that old man Dracula is attempting to kill us all. Charming.

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He does that sometimes.

[Blase. BLASE AF.]

So this is just a common occurrence? Much like the weather?

[He pours himself another glass of wine. It's definitely one of those days for Augustine.]

Yup, pretty much!

Nice to know that my alleged "grandfather" possesses a wrath so great that its a season by itself.

I don't know that I'd really call it wrath. More like irritation.

Or rather a temper tantrum at best. He's a moody one.

Sounds about right, aye. But you know what they say about such things. Weather them out and so forth. [No no, Marco is way too blase.]

...How many times has this happened before, Marco? I'm curious.

Oh... Who keeps count? You'd have to ask Grell.

He didn't have Lisa before though, so that's a lot of build-up. Speaking from experience. [Slightly sharp eyes for a second, because he knows well the desire to wage war to get your soul mate back.]

Marco, please.

[Augustine all but facepalms at this point. Why is this realm blessed by a small army of psychotic husbands with murderous tendencies? He rubs his hand over his face for a moment before drowning another glass of wine.]

Well, I suggest we figure some way to raise the dead before Dracula completely loses it.

[He pours more wine.]

I never taken up voodoo before but---

Edited 2018-04-08 01:55 (UTC)

My quarrel is not with you or any residents. My quarrel is with the very realm itself. Though if you wish to continue spouting such idiocy, I can arrange a seat of honor when i bring my war to the realm.

[And by seat he means pike, and by honor he means impalement.]

Peace and blessings onto you, Lord Tepeş. [Augustine greets in a rather sarcastic drawl.] Your agony is felt across all of Genessia and its residents, I'm sure.

However, it is a little improper to be wishing Genessia death and destruction so soon after enjoying all of its bountiful wonders.

[Including your wife, Lisa.]

Who's to say that she won't be returned, hm?

Save your blessings, I have no need for them. [He just looks very exasperated by everything you say, Augustine.]

It would be no different than wishing the humans of my own world a fiery and painful death. It is better than it deserves.

And who's to say that she will? More often than not those who are taken from this world never return.

[~~The fuck? He hasn't even done anything wrong?!~~ Augustine let's out a dramatic sigh.]

Ah, a pessimist. I see why you're so hell, fire and brimstone now.

[He let's out a sympathetic sigh. It seems that the Lord of Shadows is nothing more than a grieving widower. That poor man.]

Death here isn't permanent but that doesn't give much comfort for when a love one goes missing, now does it? Who knows what will happen at this point but burning Genessia down would solve nothing, no?

[~~Sorry Augustine. Vlad is just in A Mood (tm)~~]

Oh no, you are absolutely right. In this world where whatever is killed simply rises again in time, and what is torn down is rebuilt, burning this place to the foundations would not accomplish anything. At this point at least.

However, there are beings beyond this place that can strip this place bare like a swarm of locusts. And I plan to visit that plague on this place.

[~~At least Vlad knows what potatoes are.~~]

Ah. [Augustine shakes his head slowly in great disappointment.]

If you're this hellbent for destruction, then I fear you'll reap what you sow.

[~~They're the things that scream when you pull them out of the ground right?~~]

That is the point, yes.

But you were a-do-ra-ble!

And this kind of strange things happen from time to time, we don't know why and there isn't a clear patter. I tried analizing it.

[The poor dhampir cringes ever so subtly before drowning another tall glass of wine. He's hoping to die from alcohol poisoning and not embarrassment but that's impossible.]

...Thank you, I know I was rather cute back then. Cute and bratty.

[And he still is in some truth.]

Try again, will you? I want to attempt to stop such foolishness before they begin.

[Kay would worry for his liver if he didn't imagine that supernatural creatures doesn't have to worry about that kind of things.]

Oh, it was nothing. You should have seen Cassian, he really was a handful. I'm still cleaning spray paint from my frame.

I will. And I'm not the only one working on it but so far none of us has had any luck.

(

anamnestik)

[Bitty Eliot hasn't been staying in the apartment. It's too strange and surreal for him to suddenly have a home, and he's suspicious of fine print. But he has been coming back here to drop off his/stolen stuff in his room. He intends to sell it to Rip, since she seems to be the only safe buyer in this weird place.

As he tries to sneak out of his room again, Eliot hears a man's voice in the room. He peeks out from behind the door, trying to see what kind of person is here. The fine print, no doubt...

It's not until he catches a glimpse of Augustine's eyes that Eliot comes out of hiding.]

Another monster! [He puts his hands on his hips, trying to puff up. You know. Looking as big and tough as a six year old can.] You can't eat me! Master Rip's already got me!

[This kid definitely thinks he's going to scare Augustine away.]

Monster?

[Augustine was in mid broadcast when some blond child appears in the foyer.]

What in the name of Lucifer is going on here? Who in the heck are you and where's your manners?

[He questions as he pours himself more wine. The vampire is plotting on getting absolutely trashed today or rather was. Now he has some little blond boy in his apartment. Lovely.]

Rip? [He arches his brow some.] Master Rip, hm? How droll.

[Augustine sips his wine slowly as he studies the youth's features.]

...Eliot? Is that you?

[Little Eliot boldly takes a few steps closer. After all, he thinks that he is untouchable. Thinks. This kid doesn't know that the 'monsters' he pretends not to fear are going to ruin his life in a few years.

When Augustine says his name, the kid looks surprised.]

... Oh. Yeah, it is my name now! Master Rip gave it to me. [The little boy points accusingly at Augustine,] So ya can't eat me anymore! I matter now.

No, Rip didn't give you that name.

[He says with a bemused smirk. Seems that the huntress is up to no good again. Why is he not surprised?]

I did. [Augustine lies with a chuckle.] That's because you're my son, Eliot.

[The dhampir reaches over quickly to pat the child's head.]

I'm Augustine, remember?

[The little blonde gives Augustine a judging look (as if to imply he was not judging the heck out of everyone he met already.) His green eyes narrow suspiciously at the announcement.]

Non. I don't have a mother or father.

[Still, he doesn't resist the head pat. While Eliot is huffy about anyone thinking they could trick him, he is curious as to why someone would trick him that way.]

If you're my father then you abandoned me on the streets, and I hate you. You didn't give me my name either. Master Rip gave me a name in exchange for that broken pocket watch.

... I'm smarter than the other kids. Eat them instead.

Oui, je suis ton père~

[He states jokingly in French as he keeps petting the boy's shaggy blond hair.]

Although, I'm more like a stepfather. We are not related by blood in the physical sense but you're mine.

[He pauses for a moment once Eliot mentions a broken pocket watch,]

You broke...the watch?

[The familiar sound of French does catch Eliot's attention. He's still reluctant to accept the idea of having any form of a father, but Augustine is the first person here to speak French at him.

So he drops a tiny percentage of his bad attitude.]

You're just trying to make me trust you, so you can kill me. I know all the tricks. I've seen them take the other boys away. [Bitty Eliot is the suspicious type. His attitude might be less, but he has never trusted anyone in his life.]

And yeah. I had a watch and it wasn't working... Master Rip bought it, though. And she sold me a name. I don't know why she picked Eliot, but it's mine now. [You can't take his name, is what he is implying.] Then she put me in that room for some reason.

My, my! What a fantastic lie she weaved. [He says with a hint of absolute sarcasm in his eloquent tone.] If I dare say, it seems that dear Rip has taken a shining to you.

This is unexpected considering.

[He let's out a thoughtful hum as he strokes his chin slowly.]

No one is trying to kill you, Eliot. You would make a poor meal since you're all skin and bones. [Augustine huffs in annoyance.] Vore is a nasty fetish to have, especially with your stepfather.

[Terrible joke is terrible.]

That room is yours room much like the pocket watch is yours. You merely...forgot.

Forgot..? No way. [He shakes his head lightly.] I remember everything. If you give me money, I can prove it.

[No freebies, even for a supposed stepfather.

Eliot does pinch his arm when Augustine mentions he's skin and bones.]

... Yeah. A lil'bit. [Looking back at Augustine, with his curiosity betraying his 'serious' expression, the little boy reaches a conclusion.] If you're my stepfather, why are you only coming back for me now? Is it cuz of the money my Master gave me?

[OH GOOD HOW CONVENIENT AUGUSTINE HAS MADE A RECENT POST ON THE NETWORK.

Namur punches the reply button before even listening to the damn thing, grateful he doesn't have to take the time to look up Augustine's private number.]

GUSTY GET YER ASS OUTSIDE THE BUILDIN' RIGHT NOW RIP'S IN TROUBLE AN' I DON'T KNOW VAMPIRE FIRST AID!

[Augustine nearly chokes on his glass of wine when Namur breaks the fucking sound barrier by screeching into the phone. After a few inelegant coughs, Augustine peers into the screen with great alarm.]

Namur, what in the hell happened?

Edited 2018-04-08 02:01 (UTC)

[He probably heard it in stereo, they are literally right outside.]

Move first, chat later! Some bitch said somethin' 'bout poison! Jus' come out the balcony, we're on the ground!

[Augustine grabs the neck of the wine bottle as he hastily meanders to the balcony. There he spots the peanut gallery downstairs and let's out a dramatic as hell sigh. He figured that today would end on a low note but this quickly?

The dhampir finishes his wine before tossing the bottle into the trash nearby. Remember to recycle, folks.]

On my way!

[The dhampir climbs onto the ledge of the balcony and jumps down with relative ease. He lands gracefully upon his feet like a cat with nine lives. Who needs stairs?]

Edited 2018-04-08 02:16 (UTC)

[FINALLY someone who knows how to freaking listen, Lord of the Sea have mercy.

Namur has Rip laid out on her back, the bottom half of her shirt torn open so he can better care for the deep gash in her gut.]

Figure this part's the same, ain't it? Keep what's 'posed t' be in in an' help it clot. But she said there's poison an' I'unno shit 'bout gettin' poison outta someone can't go t' a healer.

[The blood is starting to get to him, to make him hungry even though he's eaten recently enough. She doesn't smell poisoned at all...

Namur closes his eyes and breathes out sharply.]

What can we do?

[Augustine winces in sympathy once he sees that hideous gash upon his darling huntress. Leave it to her to put herself in mortal jeopardy every once and while, She was never meant to live a mundane life, was she? A slight inkling of fear shivers down his spine as he thinks. What can he do to heal her? Simply giving her his blood won't be enough.]

Let's me be very clear, Namur. I'm no healer. [He tells Namur as he warily approaches Rip.] However, there might be a way to heal her. It will be risky but I'm certain she can handle it.

[There's a level of confidence in Augustine's tone that almost seems otherworldly at this point. He kneels before the huntress and gathers the vampiress into his welcoming arms.]

My dear, huntress, why do you always have such a penchant for trouble?

[Augustine asks as he gently brushes her hair out of her face.]

Rip? [He calls her name affectionately.] Are you still conscious?

[Not waiting for an answer, Augustine brings up his wrist to his lips and bites harshly into it. A few splatters of blood rains down upon Rip's cheek as he brings his wrist to her parted lips. It's time for her drink.]

Love, you must drink. My blood might subdue the pain some.

[The poison needs to be extracted but how? Augustine might have an idea here but it means him trying to transfer her wounds onto himself.]

Drink.

[Rip is aware of what's going on through the pain and paralysis and honestly? She's a little surprised Namur was calling Augustine for help. But then again, he was probably the one she would have went to if she could. Him or Marco if she could get a hold of the Phoenix.

As for her wounds, there was one stab wound to her left shoulder and a pretty nasty one to her stomach where she was bleeding from still but, other than that she wasn't moving from where she laid out. She was still blind and honestly if it hadn't been for the scent of blood from Augustine's hand she wouldn't even know he was offering her blood. It took whatever strength she could manage to even attempt to drink from him with a soft whimper.

Would it help? Who knew. But, at least she could manage to weakly drink some of his blood.]

[Namur's no hero. He just happens to give a shit about people sometimes, and has a skillset that overlaps with those of people who are. This means if the answer isn't hit it or love on it, he's more than willing to find someone more qualified to get a specific job done.

With a nod he leans back to give Augustine a bit more space to work, but keeps his hand pressed against Rip's abdomen, the other holding her shattered hand as gently as he can manage.]

[His blood is soothing like a healing balm but temporary. Rip's aches and pains might fade for a time but eventually they will return unless treated properly. This is why the next step of this hair brain scheme must work.

As Rip keeps drinking his blood, Augustine starts hum something under his breath. It sounds like a song of some kind, light and gentle. While he's quite known for his singing prowess, Augustine is humming in another language that is far more ancient than Latin. That odd darkness that usually accompanies him starts to manifest now that his other half is stirred to life.]

Why not just let her die? [A growl of a voice calls out from the monstrous shadow beneath Augustine.] The Reaper's scythe has stilled. Death hold no meaning here.

[In just mere moments, an enormous ink black hand crawls out from the shadows followed by what seems to be an gigantic monster of a being wearing the pristine white skull of an elk upon its face. The creature is darker than any shadow, a furry black beast with massive white wings that contrast greatly against its shadowy appearance. Nearly every feather is decorated with trinkets in the form of brass bangles and golden rings. It stares down at then with impassive amethyst eyes through the empty sockets of its ghoulish mask as if they're nothing but ants beneath its massive talon-like feet.

The beast is a strange mix between both masculinity and femininity. An androgynous figure despite it monstrous traits. It possesses the voice of a man but the slight effeminate features of a woman in shape. There's no breasts but rather graceful curves instead.]

I refuse to let her die. [Augustine mutters to the demon hovering above him curiously. His unusual red and black eyes now match the deep purple hue of the monster behind him.] I promised her that, remember?

[An annoyed grunt escapes Astaroth.]

Sentimental fool.

[The demon turns its head towards Namur, those bright purple eyes boring into the shark man curiously.]

You're the same as him, aren't you?

[After drinking his blood for a bit, there's a bit of relief flooding Rip's body. But, it's more.. taking the edge off than absolute relief. She's still tense and unable to move for the most part..

So when she felt something dark and demonic brush against her senses, she whimpered and gathered enough strength to twitch her shattered hand just barely against Namur's palm. Whatever Augustine was doing, she wasn't sure about it as she slowly pulled her lips away from the offered blood.

Then she heard the voice as the creature spoke and if her muscles weren't already locked up, she'd be tense and potentially ready to run! but, as it was, she was stuck at its mercy and whatever else her men decided to do.

At least she knew they wouldn't let her die like this creature suggested.

[When the shadows start moving, Namur narrows his eyes, but by the time Astaroth comes into its full form his jaw is agape, eyes wide and staring without shame at the demon. He leans in to put himself between it and Rip a little more, as futile an effort as that may be.

He scowls at their conversation, more than a little confused by the question posed to him.]

If y' mean t' say 'm I a sentimental fool that made a promise an' ain't gonna let Rip die so long as there's anythin' in my power left t' try, then hell yeah we're the damn same.

But yer wrong 'bout death not matterin' here. Sure folk can come back, but there's a price they gotta pay each time. We gotta lose a part a what makes us who we are, our memories, an' that sure as hell's gonna change who we is when we get back. 'S why we still bother fightin' 'gainst that fate. Death ain't the end no more, but y' don't come back whole.

So listen. I'unno what's got Rip in this state. The l'il bitch helped her get here said somethin' 'bout a poison though I can't smell none an' usually shit like that I pick up on. There's anythin' y' can do 'bout it, I'd be grateful.

Edited 2018-04-08 14:33 (UTC)

[Namur's answer seems to quell the demon's curiosity enough. Astaroth merely stands there for now, it's amethyst gaze unyielding as it looms over them.]

So Death has taken a new form? [A dry chuckle follows suit.] I didn't think the old goat could.

[A frustrated sigh escapes Augustine as he glares at the demon behind him.]

Now is not the time for philosophical prose. I don't know what sort of poison was used on Rip but I can't sense anything abnormal. [He says while trying to get Rip to drink more of his blood.] Is it at least helping some?

[Judging that Rip isn't healing quickly worries him enough to ponder taking the next step.]

Do you really require my aid here, warlock?

[Astaroth's bored tone is telling of his mood currently. It seems the monster isn't too impressed with the thought of being forced to use some of it's power to restore something so weak and fragile. Unlike Augustine, Astaroth isn't too thrilled about the dhampir's choice in mates.]

There's a way to transfer whatever that ails Rip onto myself. However, the practice in general deals in rather potent black magic. It would heal her, most likely.

[Eventually Rip started to drink from Augustine again and that seemed to help chase more of the pain away as she tried to draw in enough breath to even speak, but all she could manage were gentle whimpers.. and a soft growl at the demonic thing that was near them.

Even paralyzed she wasn't too thrilled with this..or what Augustine was thinking of doing.]

Lord a the Sea...

[The longer Asteroth sticks around, the more Namur's hair feels like it wants to stand up in end. This is... A lot deeper than he intended shit to be. He whispers to Augustine, even though the demon will likely hear it anyway.]

A'ight, so I gotta come clean here, I thought y's gonna know 'bout some kinda antidote or somethin', not... whippin' out some bigass shadow leech.

[He winces at how that came out, then speaks a little louder, addressing Astaroth directly.]

Uh. No offense, yer badass as hell. Praise be, or whatever.

[He lifts his hand from Rip's abdomen and salutes- a respectful gesture, except for the part where he's also flipping the demon off as he does so- then he puts it on Augustine's shoulder, voice dropping back to a whisper.]

But think 'bout it, man. Wouldn't whatever's poisonin' her be poison t' y', too? This thing really gonna put that hurt on y' an' risk losin' y', its host, jus' cuz y' asked it nicely?

Edited 2018-04-13 00:50 (UTC)

I told you prior that I'm not a healer. [Augustine grumbles in return.] I don't know much about antidotes or bloody healing tonics. I'm not a healer.

[His frustration is almost palpable at this point. Augustine can't even sense the alleged poison within Rip, nevertheless try to treat it. To be frank, this is honestly beyond him.]

Might want to watch your tongue with him, Namur. Astaroth isn't very forgiving---

[If the demon could have an expression it would be one of pure exasperation.]

I may lack forgiveness but I'm not without some scruples. [Astaroth states as it crosses its massive arms over its chest. The damn creature isn't amused.] Although, I'll admit to wanting to devour you both.

[The dhampir turns sharply towards Astaroth and growls. Not just any growl but a damn near demonic growl echoed by the very darkness lingering within him. It's a warning, one that Astaroth heeds for now.]

I swear if you dare to harm either--! [He snarls quickly before simmering down a little once Namur speaks.]

Then what do you expect me do? We don't have much options, do we?

Edited 2018-04-13 01:16 (UTC)

[If anything, Astaroth mentioning devouring either one of them gained a louder growl from Rip as she bit down a little harder on Augustine's wrist. His blood was definitely helping. Slowly, but... it was helping.

Either way, she's making her slight displeasure known. It may not be as demonic as Augustine's and it may even be weak, but, it was something at least? ]

Well smartass, I sure as hell ain't a doctor but I got a basic idea a how t' patch shit up an' who t' talk t' when shit gets deep!

[Flipping immortals. Just cuz you won't die on your own doesn't mean someone won't try helping you along!]

Yeah, listen Beastie, yer gonna hafta get in line. Got a whole slew a gods, demons, an' general assholes that's claimed dibs on a piece a me, so take a shitty number on that'n an' let's do a thing for now, aye? Yer cranky cuz Gusty woke y' up from yer nap an' we're cranky cuz some bitch messed with our girl. So listen, what if y' do yer thing like Augustine says but instead a puttin' whatever's poisoned Rip in him who's probly gonna feel the same shit, y' put it in me that ain't a damn vampire. Y' getta go back t' eternally ruing the existence a the world or whatever, an' yer host'll be happy that he an' his girl come outta this without a scratch, eh? Whaddy' say?

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iv. The Aftermath [video]

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