Sick Individual

( Home )

[OOC Note: Takes place before Kris' rescue]

Okay, so either Toby was going insane or he was actually seeing a certain psychotic vampire from his past appearing outside his house on a bi-nightly basis.

The first night she had been out there, Wolf barked at the window until he realised who it was and whimpered, bolting up the stairs - where he wasn't allowed and he knew it - nearly tripping Alec over to seek refuge in Toby's room.

Toby had gone downstairs to see what it was that had spooked his dog, locked all the windows and doors, shut all the curtains and gone upstairs, letting Wolf sleep curled up at the bottom of his bed.

The same thing happened two nights later, and two nights after that.

( Blonde Hyena )

( New Cologne )

( Stalker )

Solitary was the life of a vampire.

Endless years of survival amongst mortals that passed as easily into the night as sand did through the tiniest of gaps between your fingers. The world turned, day gave way to night, and night gave way to day. It was a generally acceptable norm. It was the way the world worked. People felt reassurance from this well known fact, its validity proved to them time and time again.

It was only when the balance was shaken - the norm was no longer the norm - that people became... afraid.

The shadows are there for this, to test a human being's faith in what they know to be the world, push them to the brink, and see the true staple of their character.

Many disappoint, as expected.

When you live as long as a vampire does you come to know these things about the world, you understand people and the way they work. You become gifted, knowing which buttons to push and when to push them. Sometimes you push so hard that you drive them to the edge and over it, much like that unfortunate soul precariously balancing on the ledge of a building. All he'd ask for was the truth and you'd given it, for better or worse, worse in his case.

It took the police six hours to find him.

This world is the same, no matter its evolutional step up on the food chain, the years don't change the core substance of its inhabitants. Everybody's secretly afraid, deceitful, envious, insecure and paranoid. It's something he knows better than anyone, he saw all these things when he was human with a heartbeat and has bore witness to countless years of the same behaviour.

It isn't the monsters that will rip this world apart.

Not when humans do a good enough job of it themselves.

Light caught the blade as it was turned idly through callused fingers, slither of silver pressing against an otherwise stark white palm until it shimmered as the blade was brought down towards the table. The section of wood splintered, causing it to creak.

The vampire’s lips curled and his eyebrow arched, daring his defeated opponent whose head he had pressed into the wood near to the now bloody blade as it had caught his ear to try something, fight back; try to put him in his place again.

The bar itself was a chaotic mess, remnants of a fight lingering in the way in which the tables and chairs had fallen and all that could be heard was the fearful whisperings of the bartender behind the bar. Apparently he’d gone and rediscovered God despite having spoken of the devil all night.

“Now,” Nathan purred in that thick accented voice of his. “Who wants to put me in my place?”

He lifted his chin and ran his eyes over the scattered crowd. “Surely there’s somebody here with enough balls to give it a shot?” He waited and the silence was deafening. “No?” He tutted under his breath and gave the hair beneath his fingers one final ruffle before he stepped back. “Too bad, I was kind of hoping for some kind of fight.”

Nathan sighed and merely reached down for his previously fallen opponent, murmuring something in Gaelic before with one smooth movement he snapped the man’s neck and discarded his body to one side, right at the feet of the woman who’d he come into the bar with.

She screamed and Nathan smiled, it was about time somebody made some noise. This wouldn’t be as much fun without a little music.

He was in one of those dangerous moods, the kind of headspace where nothing could hurt him because he was already scraped down to the bone. He'd slept for about three hours last night, woke up due to a fitful dream of his father and Quartoth, then worked his shift at the studio before catching a fast dinner of hot dogs and soda, then went straight out to patrol. It always happened after something knocked him off his axis, and he just wanted to hurt things. To hurt them a lot.

Connor was stalking down Navy Pier, ignoring the curious looks he was getting. Jacket-less, shirt tucked into the waistband of his fatigue pants, he was sporting a nowhere-stare, skimming over the faces with his eyes, looking for any vampire stupid enough to have picked tonight for looking for a quick meal. He was a fucking demon-hunter, he was fucking going to act like one.

Being angry was better than being miserable any day.

The Destroyer's shoes made hollow noises on the wood, and he paused to let a group of high schoolers go past him, laughing and having a fine evening of it. Idiots. He shut off the troubling notion that he really wasn't like them, continued his rounds. A good fight, that was what he needed.

Nathan was a vampire, but stupid? He liked to think he was better than that. He'd ventured out the morning the sun had set and the night sky had laid claim to the land, feet finding their way to the Pier. He'd always had a fondness for water, ever since he was a child and he had no idea what kind of monstrosities lay ahead of him.

He was perched on a bench, long legs tucked up and boots resting on the flat planes of wood that made up the seat. The cool wind had picked up a few loose strands of hair and sent them over his temples until they lingered on the very edge of his cheekbones, his coat kept him pretty shrouded from the air and also allowed him to blend into the background.

Nathan wasn't out to feed tonight, he'd already satisfied his thirst. He was simply watching the world go by, ruminating on the fact that another year had passed and he was a year older and one step closer to seeing the end of another century. It took him a few moments to realise that somebody had joined him on the bench, a pretty young thing who seemed to waving a map at him in the hopes that he might have some idea of where she needed to be.

He leaned in and gestured to an area on the map, speaking in low dulcet tones as he instructed her on methods of getting there with minimal fuss. A demon he might be, but he understood restraint and the value of composure.

He was across the wide expanse of the pier when he spotted a familiar face, and he retreated behind another small knot of people to study Nathan from a distance. He hadn't been conscious of looking for the vampire, but with the Scotsman right there it had become impossible to ignore him. Connor watched with muted consternation as the girl with the map sat down next to him, and when they began to talk he felt his hands turn into fists.

Like he was a person instead of a thing, that was the worst part. The part that actually left him offended. Connor stalked closer, watched the girl get up and leave. A pretty girl, the way Nina had been pretty, bright and full of life. He couldn't stop himself from imagining her dead, the latest victim drained dry by that filthy dead thing. Probably even abandoned under the pier like so much trash.

"Nathan!"

He said the name, practically yelled it, then clouted the vampire just above the ear with his right fist. Setting on him before he could brace for it seemed like the best plan.

( Boxers In A Twist (Adult Content: Mild Violence )

( Not A Monster )

The club was loud and busy, bodies upon bodies were pressed into the small space and the live band was taking the stage apart with their enthusiasm for their music and the pounding of bass through the floor. The dancefloor was filled with raunchy displays of public affection, wandering hands and heated exchanges, it was hard to breathe and even harder to move.

Nathan was in the thick of it, the long back of a blonde pressed up against his chest, her neck exposed to his wandering mouth and hips arched upwards into the long tapered fingers that slipped beneath her shirt and touched her skin. She swayed when he swayed, stopped breathing when he brushed his nose along her jaw and bit down gently causing shivers to take apart her fragile composure that had up until this point been hanging on a very thin thread.

The vampire's hair was a dishevelled mess around his sharp features, the blonde's fingers had been in it for the last hour twisting and catching as Nathan methodically took her apart in ways she had never felt before; they hadn't even made it to home-base.

She was beginning to think that foreign men were definitely the way forward.

Grace was dancing by herself with a beer in her hand, bumping and grinding to the bass-heavy music of the band as sweat trickled down the center of her back from the sheer closeness of so many bodies crammed in such a confined space. She'd been out since the sun went down, restlessness taking her out of the house and into the city to find something - or someone - to do. Over the song that was thumping out of the amplifiers, she could hear heartbeats and feet making contact with the dark-tiled floor.

The vampire danced harder, edging in between a couple who were practically pulling one another's clothes off before sliding on past, letting the music carry her onward. Sometimes it was just good to cut loose, with or without fisticuffs. She was a little high, not just from the booze. It was almost like being alive again.

Grace finished her beer as the song ground to a halt, and there was a brief silence filled with loud laughter and the tuning of instruments before the lead guitarist stomped the next number into life. The opening riff twanged up her spine, and she grinned, teeth flashing under the overhead lights as feedback whined through the microphone.

"Fuck you, Chicago," the oiled-up, sweated-down singer growled into the mic with a wolfish smile, and the evening continued to thrash along.

It was purely by accident that she spotted Nathan amid all the chaos, and she sidled up behind his dance partner to peek over the girl's shoulder. "Well, howdy-howdy," she yelled over the sudden wail of a guitar. "I always find you in the damnedest places."

( Nose Out Of Joint )

Ever since that run in with Toby and the subsequent feral need to feed which had resulted in an altercation with a do-gooder, Nathan had been laying low. He knew that there would be consequences and he rather liked having his head on his shoulders and didn't feel like defending his right to exist as a supernatural creature from anyone let alone a scrawny youth looking for revenge.

It had taken days of recuperation for Nathan to return to his normally composed self, to be the cold blooded killer that thought before he acted. A further day before he was able to walk on his own speed without the thirst crawling under his skin, driving him onwards to feed at whatever cost.

But now that he was recovered Nathan allowed his wanderings to take him away from safety and deeper into the city, right into the depths of a busy bar. It wasn't sleazy in the way most bars he frequented were, it was full of life and easy to get lost in. Something Nathan appreciated; there was something to be said for being able to get lost in a crowd. It had at times saved him from extinction.

He flicked the dying embers of grey ash from the end of his cigarette and picked up his glass, sipping at the amber coloured liquid as he watched the crowds move. Nathan was tucked away in the shadows, eyes light and watchful as they went from face to face, observing. People watching, fascinating thing, especially when nobody realised they were being watched.

Some people were too intoxicated to realize much of anything, including their noise level. Such was the case with the group of ten or so 20-something women having a birthday party. Technically the get-together began at a restaurant, but once dinner was over the ladies decided to go out for a few drinks. They'd been shrieking and giggling and spilling things for going on two hours now.

Their behavior firmed up Francess Penn's opinion that there was nothing more embarrassing than a drunk girl. Especially a drunk older sister. Beatrice had pulled in a favor to get her sibling invited to the birthday girl's bash, but it wasn't going too well. Most of the girls were very posh types, fairly superficial, and thought that the youngest Penn was a little on the weird side. They didn't outright say it, but it was obvious on their faces. Francess shrank more and more into herself until she felt concave. Finally she abandoned the table and stuck herself in a corner with her coca-cola.

She jabbed her straw at the bobbing ice cubes. Once in a while she peeked at what they were doing, simultaneously disliking them and wishing she could let go and behave the same way. But she couldn't. She just wasn't wired like that. She pulled on the collar of her unstylish button-down shirt and then stuffed her hands under her thighs. It was an awkward way to sit, and it made her shoulders hunch up.

( Euro Trashy )

( Experimenting )

( Nothing Alike )

Nathan had crawled back to his basement after overextending himself with the entrancement that had taken years to learn, shuddering through the aftershocks and dragging himself through nightmares that ravaged his mind.

The only thing missing in his recovery was blood and lots of it.

Three hours later and Nathan was on the prowl, driven to the brink of insanity by the thirst. His movements might have been sluggish but if anything they were more predatory than before, slipping in and out of other people's shadows like a footprint in sand, never lingering long enough to be noticed.

He might not have been much of a threat when he was composed but right now he was a risk to everything and everyone when the thirst was on him and he had been torn apart by demons usually held at bay by long walks and nights spent out.

This evening, Nathan Turner was the same hungry feral creature he had been when Christopher had first turned him, desperate for the taste of blood and uncaring as to how he got it. He was unpredictable, violent, irrational and completely without sense or reason. God help anyone who got in his way.

Every sense was on overdrive, the sight and smell of human flesh and blood sent him into a dizzying spiral of rapid want and need, logic be damned. He needed blood to live and it didn't matter how many throats he ripped out this evening it didn't feel like it would be enough.

A gaggle of girls caught his attention and turned him on his heels, he would be drinking fresh teenage blood tonight. It didn't take him long to catch up with them, pulling on long blonde hair and attacking a long exposed neck to which the others screamed and tried to escape. Little did they know but there would be no escape: not for them, not tonight.

Connor was in a bad mindset when he left the gym. Confusion at Kris' behavior and what he might have contributed to the situation to get the Slayer to react in such a way had his face set into an expression of annoyed resignation as he tromped along the pavement on his patrol, muscles tense and ready for combat at the least sign of trouble. He wanted to pound something, to beat on it until it was a bloody pulp.

He smacked one fist into an open palm as he rounded the corner, and when the scream ripped through the silent night air he immediately began to run without questioning it. No one screamed like that unless blood was being spilled. The Destroyer paused for a split-second, just long enough to swipe up a good-sized fallen branch from a nearby tree. Usually he stuck to using his fists, but it sounded like there might be more than one.

Bloodsuckers beware.

When he got close enough he saw that there were at least four girls, and one of them was already being fed on, her fair hair stained with blood as the vampire battened onto the side of her neck. Connor smelled the sharp stink of fear, heard the piercing shriek of Blonde Girl's friends as one of them foolishly launched herself at the creature's back, trying to wrench him loose. The Destroyer launched himself into the fray, pried the girl off and pushed her towards her companions.

"Go, run, get out of here!" Better to save the ones he could, putting his body between the vampire and the other girls, makeshift stake at the ready, all systems go.

( Best You Have - Mild Violent Content )

He itched to go after the filthy bastard, but the girl moaned pitiably and he had to shake it off. "Son of a bitch," he snarled, then stepped back to where she lay, crouching close to her to check her pulse. It was thready, and he yanked off his jacket to pillow her head before also peeling off his shirt to fold up the soft cotton and use it as a compress.

"You're all right." His voice was very soft despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he pushed blood-stained hair away from her face. "Just don't...don't move too much, okay? You're gonna be okay, I'll stay with you." He stared balefully in the direction the vampire had departed, keeping the fabric pressed to the side of her neck. He could feel warm blood soaking through, staining his fingers.

"Danny?" The blonde's eyes were glassy with shock, and she looked up at Connor uncomprehendingly. "Danny, I'm really cold..."

The Destroyer scrambled to get his cellphone out of his jacket pocket, and he punched in 911 viciously. "I need some help," he said to the voice on the other end. "I've got a girl here, she's really badly hurt. Vampire attack. I'm trying to stop the bleeding, but she's fading fast." He gave his location, watching the light gray fabric of his T shirt turn a dark crimson. "C'mon, don' die on me. Please?" He sounded like a kid again, and every death always hit so hard.

The siren was getting louder. They must have re-routed the vehicle if it wasn't already on its way to where he crouched with the dying blonde. "You're gonna be all right," Connor muttered, trying to convince himself as much as her. "You're gonna be okay. Danny's here."

It seemed apparent that the nightlife here wasn't all that bad. Toby had suffered with a case of itchy feet mixed in with loneliness and it meant that he left for greener pastures, pastures filled with people rather than things of the four-legged variety. He wandered away from home a few blocks, and then a few more in search of somewhere to relax and drink, with good music and a nice atmosphere.

He had even made half an effort for the occasion, jeans that sort of clung to him in all the right ways and a button-down shirt, complete with leather jacket. He felt more confident than he had in a while, even if the messy scar on the side of his neck was obvious for everyone and their mother to see.

He found a small bar and settled inside, putting away a couple of pints of beer before he felt the need for a cigarette. There had been a few interesting looking people there, but it hadn't been that kind of night that he'd been looking for. He had kind of wanted to make friends, get to know people, start networking and all that. But, apparently, there weren't many people out.

He'd struck up a conversation with the bartender, heard all about the man's kids and fielded a question about the scar on his neck. It throbbed with remembered pain, almost as if the injury was fresh. He rubbed a hand over it and tipped his head back, knocking what was left of his drink down his throat.

Once the conversation had dwindled though, he slid off the barstool and out into the night, tugging his figure-hugging leather jacket around himself and ducking his head to light a cigarette, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes as he took a long drag of nicotine, feeling it filling his lungs and instantly sating that craving that had been building up inside of him.

Smoking was a very dirty habit, that much he knew, if only he could stop.

Nathan was the most restless at night given it was when he woke up and most everybody else went to sleep. He had no reason to stay in and very little reason to frequent previous spots so he explored further afield, taking himself out of his comfort zone to make life a little more exciting. Killing was fun up until a point and then became monotonous, he liked to think he was more intelligent than that. Not that he wouldn't slaughter if the mood happened to strike or he felt the people deserved it, it just wasn't his immediate reaction to everything and anything.

Currently he was leaving a bar in which he'd shared a conversation with a pretty blonde that he could already see strewn across the nearby wall but all in good time, all in good time. He looked as put together as he always did, that high collar of his hugging the length of his neck and closing at the chin, hair stylishly ruffled and clothes picked out for how they fell on his build. Nathan knew how important looks could be and how easy things could go if people saw the looks and nothing else meaning it was easy to earn their trust and lull them into a false sense of security.

He itched for a cigarette and rummaged in his pockets for a pack, frowning as his lighter appeared to be missing. Nathan chanced a look over his shoulder, narrowing his gaze for a moment as he wondered if the blonde had gotten a little too handsy. He'd certainly find out later. Nathan glanced around himself and then caught sight of a relatively tall man wearing what appeared to be a leather jacket, clearly lit cigarette in hand.

Nathan took a few casual strides and offered a charming dimple inducing smile. "Hi," he began. "Sorry to bother you but could I steal a light?"

( What Brings You Out Here? )

( Hurt Enough )

[OOC: The entrancement portion of this scene was written with Willow's express permission]

“I’ve missed you,” Nathan shared down the phone line, lips pulling into a slow smile. “No, of course not. You should know better than that.” His shoulders lifted into a shrug, bare feet taking him back and forth across wooden floors. “It’s alright. It’s no New York but it’s never boring. Met some interesting people.”

He paused for a moment, taking in what he was being told before he chuckled softly. “Is that right? And here I thought you didn’t do languages. Impressive, I guess they’re starting to rub off on you.” Nathan pushed a hand into his hair. “You should be honoured. I’ve overcome my fear of these mobile things to call you all the way over there, it’s probably costing me a fortune. Not that I’m complaining or worrying for that matter.”

Nathan tipped his head and lifted an eyebrow. “The news has reached there? And how have people reacted to the discovery that the supernatural exist?” He turned on his heel and rested back against the nearby wall, nodding his head. “Could have been worst. You could have lost your head. “ He rolled his eyes a second later. “And you said I was dramatic.”

Another smile pulled at Nathan’s lips. “Nobody has kept me interested for very long. There was this young thing, called Francess. She had an out of body experience, literally. That was certainly intriguing.” Nathan scratched at his hipbone. “But, yeah, I haven’t really… gotten close to anyone. You know I don’t do that. I know of people but I don’t know people unless there’s something about them I want to know.”

“You’ve missed me? That’s good to know.” Nathan leaned into the phone. “Even if you just said all of that in French it’s still good to know. Thank God I know a few words, huh? Or I might never have known.” He laughed at what he heard next, giving a very genuine and dimple inducing smile. “You’re such a dirty fucker.”

He cut a look at the windows and scowled. “I should go. The sun’s coming up and I should probably be asleep. ” Nathan paused again before pushing away from the wall. “Of course I’m keeping out of trouble. I’m keeping safe, Christopher. You don’t need to worry.” Nathan settled on his bed. “Yeah, yeah, me too. Night, Christopher.” He ended the call and smirked as his phone buzzed a second or two later with a text message from the other vampire.

Nathan put his phone to one side and closed his eyes, he’d read the message later.

Avery Adlam had just finished his first training shift of his first job, and he felt giddy. It was an odd, unfamiliar mood, but a welcome change all the same. He had poured coffee, taken orders, and helped carry them to tables. He got an overview of how the cash register and credit card scanner worked. He didn't have to learn anything about the bar because he wasn't technically twenty-one yet.

He walked down Clark, then slipped past the metal posts that held up the overhead el tracks. It was a deserted alley type shortcut he had discovered. It helped him bypass any drunken revelers.

In the shadow of the alley it was hard to see but to those with supernatural senses it would have been easy to see the slumped figure leaned up against the nearby wall.

Breathing was slow, heartbeat was barely there and they were clearly struggling. Little did they know that for all their running they were being stalked, from high above and on the fire escape.

The boy was called Joshua and he'd cut through the alleys to save some time on the way, something he was regretting right about now.

Nathan crouched for a moment on the edge of the fire escape and sniffed, picking out blood and fear through the darkness and something else. Another like him, moving fast and heading straight for his prey.

Interesting.

Nathan tipped his head and waited, just to see what would happen.

( Not Human )

( Connected )

Hitchhiking, an old habit. Useful most of the time and on occasion, aggravating. It usually depended on the company. Nathan didn't really like company, idle chit-chat was wearing and he'd lived for too long to make small talk with idiots. He could have slaughtered the woman upon first sighting but there was something about her that reminded Nathan of another time, when he was younger.

Maybe it was her smile? Or maybe it was something else?

He couldn't put his finger on it the same way he could her pulse. A pulse that in this particular moment was thundering through her veins like a herd of elephants, fear changed her scent and filled his senses. She'd taken him as far as the boundaries of Chicago and her usefulness was now at an end, it wasn't as if they could go any further than this. Nathan wasn't the sort to walk away from an opportunity so... idyllic as this.

Mercy was for the weak, least that's what he'd been taught during his time spent at war. Humanity killed hundreds and thousands on a regular basis but God forbid a monster take one of the flock; a cardinal sin. Such a hypocritical race. Nathan knew that it didn't matter how many decades passed the same disappointments would always come back to never surprise him, so many things changed but people never did.

Begging fell on deaf ears and whispers of a frantic desperate plea escaped into the nothingness as Nathan dipped his head and graced her neck with fangs. It was soft at first - dragging her under into bliss - before there was a viciousness in the gleam of Nathan's eyes and the sharp tips of the elongated enamel and dentin, pain replaced pleasure and any sound she could have made was now drowned in blood: her blood.

Struggles ceased moments after the bite, blood drained and victim left on the edge. It wouldn't take much, just the smallest push and she'd been gone from this world and all her material possessions would be Nathan's to keep. Nathan didn't deliver the last blow, he merely reclined to allow for the visage of monstrosity to give way to the face of the man that had charmed his way into her car. Confusion clouded the already dim brown eyes and Nathan simply chuckled softly, sliding a thumb over the bite.

"It's better this way," he assured her softly. "Life is shit." Nathan leaned down and kissed her mouth once, just briefly. "You'll thank me for this. One day." The car was silent except for the struggling and useless movements of a dying chest until finally the once strong heartbeat now slowed until there was nothing and Nathan regarded his now dead driver.

"Sweet dreams," he muttered quietly before turning his head to look at the city now waiting. "Chicago, Chicago..."

Live long enough and you know how to listen and who to listen to, some people tell the truth and other people lie. There's always a beginnning, middle and an end. Doesn't matter how old you are, it's always the same. The world changes, but people don't.

Nathan likes to think he knows people and has a good ability at reading them, especially with his superhuman hearing because every lie causes a change in heart rhythm and there's the smallest change in breathing. It's barely there, easily missed if you aren't paying enough attention. He always pays attention.

Rumours are rife, stories are told and every creature is talking about one place: Chicago, Illinois. Apparently there's something happening and if you happen to be anyone in the dark supernatural world then it's the place to be, apparently. Nathan is a cynic, but he's bored and he figures it can't hurt.

It's not like he has anything better to do.

All he needs now is some form of transport, but that's easy to find.