*** In the heart of the cove, a soft light glows... A beauty of darqness is seen sitting before her window. A thud breaks the silence, as a large journal now sits closed. She curses beneath her breath... once more her thoughts had strayed from her studies. A deep sigh escapes her as she places her palm to the cool window, looking out on a land that seems bred of the dead. The Heavens appear to open up before her very eyes unleashing it's anger... lightening strikes down with force briefly illuminating the night.... Rain began to pour great masses as though it were the very tears of the many victims... the wind roars sounding much like the whinning pleas that are often heard in this cove of tyrants.

***Nerina sits with her knees drawn to her chest, uncoherent to the fact that her, bloody.. night gown is drenched. Lonely in heart she wonders why exactly she had chosen to come here.. on a whim she had journied, in search ... of what?.. she couldn't be sure it was the call of destiny. How long had she sat before the half opened window... surely hours had passed her by.

Suddenly she begins to tremble... chills run down her spine like icey fingers intent with harm... her rosen peaked nipples painfully tender due to the strain of chill that claimed her. Aware of the condition her troubled mind had placed before she rises and saunters on over to her bedside. Once there she slips the small straps down her shoulders allowing the night dress to fall at her feet, she shivers lightly as droplets of rain fall from her hair to trail down her bare backside. Quickly she manuevers herself beneath black satin sheets.

*** The flicker of a candles flame slowly dies down as Nerina surrenders to sleep... having succumbed to the world of darkness she thrashes about in a feverish state....

Within my darqness, you beckon me... intruding upon my dreams... tis you whom would have me undone.

Slender is the form that shimmers with moisture, satin sheets threaten hold, clinging to the darq beauty's nakedness which glows softly with dew.

He lingers just beyond her reach... like forbidden fruit!

Her muscles strain as she longs for his embrace, Unconciously she whispers.... "allow me to take this ride with thee"....

How would it feel to slip her arms about his neck... What would it be like to nestle her face in his dark hair...???

Her desire deep, her breath coming in small panths she envisions that it is she that rides him... her legs wrapped about him, his rhythm becoming her own... Can you imagine trying to outrun the menace of time... Time which nips at her heels each passing moon.

She startles as her world begins to spin .. down she falls from the ride of desires dark dream, Only to awaken wide-eyed ... still longing for the phantom of her Darqness.

***Laying naked and vulnerable upon the bed she whispers full of pain and sorrow ... "I felt your presence long ago, yet you are naught but a mystery, How is it I long for thee.. above all others?"

He had nearly been to the docks when he sensed it...a strange familial presence, different than the members of the Catalyst, but somehow alike to it. He spins on his heel deciding to investigate. He shuts down his five senses nearly completely, allowing the vampiric sense, the call of the blood and the mind, to guide him.

He moves quickly through the streets of the Cove, his eyes near vacant, several people he passes could easily confuse him for a sleepwalker, or a very rich blind man. Such is the look within his now amber gaze. He stops in front of a building, his eyes growing cognisant. As he looks up to the building he KNOWS that the source of the feeling lies within. He can even pinpoint the very room it emanates from.

He leaps upward, the supernatural strength of his legs allowing him to bound to the window of the room, where he lands perching on the ledge. Looking into the room he can see a very attractive woman sprawled naked on the bed in the room. She is muttering to herself, and he watches her soft lips mouth the words with a fascination possessed only by the undead, children and the insane. He still after all these years finds mortals beautiful in their simplicity. Their spoken language fascinates him as much as their body language does, so clumsy in both cases, it almost makes you feel sorry for them. Silently he opens the window, slipping into the room as boldly as if he were a thief invading a home known to be deserted.

The Count walks around the bed several times, admiring the woman from every angle. The resemblance, even after all these many, many generations is there. She is Italian, and from both features and her scent, she is from his human bloodline. Somehow a mortal woman of his line has found her way to the Cove. He stands still then, almost in shock at this realization. It is simply not possible...yet she is there, he is not imagining this, it is reality.

Whatever twist Tha Ga-gorib decided to throw into the web that is the lives of the Catalyst, he has brought her to them, and there must be a reason. The Count gingerly reaches out to the woman with his mind, allowing his thoughts to caress hers, waking her from her dozing state and alerting her of the Count's presence.

Standing there in front of her, he watches her eyes flutter open, the split seconds between each blink an eternity to the Master Vampire. As she focuses her eyes on him, he speaks in Italian to her. "You are one of mine cara bella, how is it you have come here, and how are you called?"

*** NO sooner had her words been spoken, Nerina was aware she was not alone... How could it be that the knowledge bath her with such calmness? Simple in mind she fretted over thought that she must be an awful sight after fever had claimed her moments before. Standing from her bed with black satin draped about her she approaches.... like a new born babe innocently approaching the beast. Caution thrown to the wind she tenderly caresses his face finding him to indeed be real and not of her dreams .... Miquel's face cool to the touch of her palm .... Why then did her virgin blood flow like lavas molten heat reaching her very core?.. For he was the most attractive man she had ever before seen... yet she was not attracted to him in that manner... how could she be, the voice of her deceased mother whispered.. "Your father resembled him dahling" *A shiver is evident as her brow furrows... Nerina would forever be confused as to why her mother's ghost had chosen to haunt her.

*** Placing her hand upon Miquel's heart, she had found there was not beat within his chest, nor had it rose to fall with an escaped breath. Boldly she tilted her chin upwards meeting his gaze... and he spoke to her ...

"You are one of mine cara bella, how is it you have come here, and how are you called?"

Nerina opened her mouth to speak but her voice failed her.... Kneeding her crimson stained lips with ivory, she turns away from him , naught lack of respect mind you.... How could she bare to bring forth secrets that she had harbored so many moons. Stepping away from Miquel she moves to stand before the window... her back bare, silhouetted from the moons hazy glow. Her thoughts run rampant... images fly freely within her mind, as pieces of history unfold. She can only guess that he views all that she holds within... No sooner had she parted from his nearness to breath in the nights scent, She felt him apon her, yet he had not touched her in the physical since.

He knows she shall be hesitant to answer him, he can practically smell it on her, it's scent mingling in the air with her normal aroma, a very pleasant mixture to the Count of the Catalyst. He watches her move to the window, admiring his lineages gift of soft curves and smooth, near perfect skin texture and pigmentation.

He has decided already that her blood shall flow to his own on a much grander scale soon enough. Who shall pass on the Dark Gift though? Hannibal? No, too weak, not to offend the Enforcer, but his bloodline is thinned out by the generations, and this woman shall be closer to him than that. Gabriel. Yes, that would suit his purposes just fine.

That reminds him, he has a Consigliere to bring back to the manse. "Come with me or stay, soon enough you will be with us forever." he states in a bland, emotionless voice. Within him, rage at the abduction of the Consigliere bubbling wildly, but the femme mortale need not know of such.

Patiently, as though the Almorian Guardian's ship did not grow further away with each passing second he awaits her answer regarding her accompanying him or opting to remain here in this room.

***Nerina is carried back in time through none other than memory.. All she has ever seen or heard ... tis never forgotten nor does knowledge ever escape to the lost lands.

She whispers softly to Miquel, "My mother told me as a child that I looked much like my father's mother in her years of youth." She fails to mention that she never had the pleasure of meeting her father or how her mother shared with her how she had loved to lay upon her fathers chest listening to the beat of his heart.

Carried to another time she recalls her mothers death bed and the tone in which she spoke... as though she were asking forgiveness for taking a lover.. Nerina had witnessed her mother's blood stained lips but had not acknowledged the source.. the fact was unknown to her that, Concetta had fed many a feast from the Master of the Darq Dynasty. Concetta had spoke of her intention to return Nerina to her father's familia but she had been selfish in her need ... for she loved her only child Nerina and her heart could not go on without her. Sadly Nerina was not as close to her mother as Concetta would have wished. Nerina knew she was adopted by the Darq Master, it was not untill later that she became aware of his intent. He absolutely adored Nerina, she had never wanted for anything within the reach of currency... he made sure her every whim was met. He was also sure that she never was never given oppurtunity to indulge in the wanton charms. He had sent her many persuers away to never be seen are heard from again.

*** Before her mind flashes the one gift that brought her peace.. a ruby encrusted sword that belongth to her paternal father , engraved was his familia's name ... however through the centuries passed the engraving had become unreadable to the mortal eye. That very same sword lay upon Nerina's bed, many a times she had let herself get lost in the beauty of ii... often it looked more like blood tears than ruby. Saddens fills her as she approaches the vision of past, the one that had set her fleeing from the Darq manse. Her mothers former lover had persued her after the death that claimed Concetta. This master being played mind games with her ... she at times wondered if she were loosing her mind... she fought off his persistance in charming her ... each of her victories making her that much powerful in this game he played. One dark eve he grew angry with Nerina for having persistantly denied him the rights of her wanton charms.. she came to loath his being... so she played his mind game... when he threatened her physically she coaxed him leading him to think she would love him for an eternity.. yet she grew tired of this game... he had given her no choice.... she would become one with this beast.... like hell she would. She sat upon his lap coaxing his rage.. terribly afraid he would fly into a uncontrolable frenzy which would be her death... She placed her hand upon his heart as she done in her childhood, he took great pleasure in the action... but it was in his eyes that the truth had been revealed.... Nerina had seen the sin that gave him such pleasure in her action... He was visualizing the death of her father... a death that had come by his hand alone. She leaped forth, removing herself from his lap... in such a state of dispare she cursed him..

"se veramente vuole morire, la accontento" She does not recall having slain him.... for her mass of hate had blinded her with such fury she had only seen black..

Crimson stains is what she recalls.. she awoke with her father sword in hand ... tis the night she sought her darkness.

*** Nerina turns facing the Count Miquel, She stands before him unflinching..... "My given name is Nerina ... It was Concetta's wish that I follow the darkness that lurks within my heart.. My mother said it was there that my destiny would call to me... my journey brought me to this Tyrants Cove"

No sooner had he spoken the invitation, she quickly proceeds to dress before him.. "I shall accompany thee" ... it felt natural.. she was not ashamed to be bare before him.

Loving an adventure how could she possibly resist his invitation... she knew it was more than an adventure that tugs at her inner being ... it felt right that she should follow... she would follow this man to no end ... none question about it.

He watches her dress, quite a magnificent creature actually, the telling of the de'Medici blood is strong in the mortal woman, she will make quite a beatiful Akhkharu. His thoughts stray back to his Consigliere, on the boat headed to the land of Almoria. Unsure of the environment of the land, he is struck with a very displeasing thought. What if there are two suns there? What if the inhabitants are not of the bloodtype to allow them to feed.

As Nerina finishes getting ready, Miquel walks to her and offers the beauty his hand. "Shall we depart? We go now to meet my Consigliere, he is off on a ship. We shall be travelling by air." With a small smile he leads her over to the window.

"You shall have to hold onto me for the duration of the trip, and trust in me. We will not fall."

** Nerina is led to the window by Miquel ... she stumbles in her step, something about that smile was not as reassuring as she had hoped. How could she possibly deny his invitation... but flight?.. the very thought placed fear within her... always she had been afraid of heights.

Her aura had been Rose ... moments before.. now her flesh took on a slightly pale hue.

Again she heard his words play over in her mind.. almost calming the fear that took hold.

"You shall have to hold onto me for the duration of the trip, and trust in me. We will not fall."

Looking to him she nods ... "I shall trust in you and nae doubt your word"

Nerina holds to Miquel as though her life depends on it and indeed it does.... "We will not fall" repeatedly she says this in her mind unaware that the words softly escape her lips in what is barely an audible whisper.

Carrying of the Chosen

He wraps his arms around the beauty, Nerina, his blood strong within her though he has fed her not. The Count whispers once more, "Trust in me," and with that he falls backward out the window with her in his arms. The ground rushes toward them for a moment at a dizzying rate, and for an instant it seems they will be dashed against it's cold surface. Then the sky is ahead of them, and the city below, rushing by beneath them.

Within moments the docks are within sight, Miquel looking down on Gabriel as he departs the boat. He knows who it is Nerina wishes to see, and he grants her this opportunity from above, Gabriel for the moment unaware of his watchers. He whispers softly against the beauty's ear, "Is he not perfect? The devil with an angel's countenance. Ah my dark fledgling, my son and brother in the Dark Gift."

They hover there a moment, The count letting her watch the Consigliere without having to stare directly into the attorney's devastating gaze. "Tell me when you are ready to...meet your maker bella."

As Miquel had fallen backwards from the window... Nerina felt panic..without hestitation, brought her legs up wrapping them about his waist with a force she had not realized she possessed, she held her arms tight about him, burrying her face in his neck.. she simply couldn't bare to look. Her chest heaved.. her breath became quite heavy ... and again his words played in her mind.. "Trust in me," ... She felt to trust .. only then did she calm.. enough to rest her chin upon his shoulder ... she felt as though a small child holding to a hero.. she wondered if it might have felt much the same had she known her father.

There it was.. that same familiar feeling that always overwhelmed her... slowly she opens her eyes... and Miquel, whispers softly against her ear, "Is he not perfect? The devil with an angel's countenance. Ah my dark fledgling, my son and brother in the Dark Gift." She looked down in awe of Gabriel, her attraction for him had grown long ago, although he had remained a mystery.. looking upon him only increased her desire.. so enticing this beast... exquisite, much like Miquel ... yet the very thought of Gabriel gave her flesh an erotic tingle, arousing her.. such agony of expectation, a most delicious pain.. unconciously her lips part brushing softly against Miquel's ear.. and she speaks with a low intimate voice ... "Forgive me Father, for I have fallen prey to the wicked sin of lust".. indeed her loins lust for the perfect creature.. she had never known man in that way.

Had she spoken that aloud?.. she loosened her grip upon the Count tilting her head back slightly to look upon him... How could she explain... the emmotion within her went far deeper than lust ... something she could not easily explain, nor could she fathom admitting such... a crimson hue crept over her cheeks staining them unpleasantly... and she whispers with an innocent undertone of seduction... "Dark Gift?...He is Perfect"

With that said he responded... "Tell me when you are ready to...meet your maker bella."

She found herself utterly speechless.. Gabriel had always been the one whom walked within her dreams... the mystery which awoke the fires within.. Could she possibly face the dark being that had unknowingly taunted her the entire time. He was a soul darker than her own, this she knew.. but.. What evil sneaks into ones dreams seducing?.. Surely she would be just another pretty face to he.. that which she was sure he was accustomed to.. looking in the distance she seen the pretty face watching from aboard a ship.

As much as she was attracted to Gabriel... She equally feared him. Sneaking another peak at him, she wondered of the distressed look he wore.. and then it was gone.. his features void of emmotion. Nerina in her wonder had bitten down on her lip worrying it... with a soft moan she ran her moist tongue over the tender lip tasting of the scarlet vitae that now trickled teasingly over her chin... ever tantalizing .. her lips twitch with surpressed amusement, and she nods to Miquel informing him she is ready to meet her maker... to the untrained eye one might think she displayed an arrogant courage.... to the superior, it was evident that pride had carried her the distance.

The Grand opening of Tyrant's Bathing house, the Eterna.
~The tropical night’s breeze wafts over the heads of the people present. It tangles in their hair, touching faces with fragrant invisible fingers. You look around yourself, lifting your chin as if to entice the wind to caress you further with her cologne of a myriad scents. Somewhere the calls of wild life beckon your eyes to travel where your ears signal, the jungles tempting you to acknowledge their lush green beauty.~

~Gabriel stands at the head of the procession, now stilled before a black ribbon stretched taut across two gleaming pillars of bone colored marble. The gateway is to the past, the dip in land leveling out to a small valley just below sea level, surrounded by the higher sounds of ocean and forests. Such decadence your eyes spy, nothing like it having been seen since his own childhood travels to ancient Pompeii.~

~He turns, his vampiric eyes able to see everyone around him as they flicker and shadow in the torchlights illuminating the causeway. The firelight seems to darken their skin, giving them an erotic shading reminiscent of the beautiful flesh of Roman ladies of leisure. This gives him pause as he drinks in the pulsing anticipation of the crew. A smile thins his firm lips, his eyes taking for themselves a rakish tilt as his thoughts continue along the vein of those long lost evenings spent in decadent self study.~

~Behind his tall leanly muscled form, the bathing house sprawls in lazy waiting. Pillars of the same bone colored marble, spread out in a rectangular outline of the spa’s perimeter, holding up nothing but the black velvet of the diamond encrusted sky. Torches line the pillars casting their atmosphere of mystery and dark secrets against the four black marble buildings centered in the flames embrace.~

~The building closest to him, carved in that black marble imported from the quarries of a small volcanic island just off the coast of Nova Italia, speaks its veins in pure silver brilliance, adding glimmering touches of magical dust to the polished darkness. This is the main bathing house, the center of the open building a five foot deep pool filled from the natural hot springs it was built on. A large fountain spouts an eternal flow of hot water from the core of the earth, straight back into the pool. A fine mist hovers just over the water level as the heat from the liquid condenses into the cooler nights air.~

~Around the fountained pool reside plush seats and small tables, a large bar wrapping around the left L shape of the inner building. Towel and robe closets open inconspicuously on every side, promising the comforting dryness of the finest Egyptian cotton. The pool itself contains a deep wrap around seating system, waiting the soaking patrons in glimmering blue water.~

~The two marble buildings to either side of the main, larger house, are smaller mimics of the first but the décor speaks of each being custom made for either a woman’s eye in one, or a man’s appreciation in the other. The separating of the sexes an alternative to the main, unisex bathing house.~

~Finally behind those three impressive structures lay the last building, just as large as the first. However this building is closed on the sides and roof, a small plaque in bronze states it’s importance as the actual spa itself, offering everything from massages to body masks. The staff trained for royalty guarantees optimum performance for the clientele in all their relaxation, and pampering needs.~

~Gabriel smiles a more public showing of expression, a turn from his previous intimate thoughts. One great cut of a large obsidian blade, and the black silk of the ribbon is snipped open. The crowd behind him roars applause and steps closer to him and ultimately the entrance of the bathing houses. He holds up his hand and the hush that follows is almost instant, baited breath on every collective lip. Finally he speaks, pride ringing from his deeply accented voice, along with a touch of something that could be construed as…homesickness and longing.~

“I give to you the gift of the Catalyst. I proudly present the bathing houses of Tyrant’s Cove, The Eterna.”

~Applause rings out around him, loud enough to momentarily hush the sounds from the surrounding jungle, the island granting it’s own form of acceptance in this solemn yet celebratory minute. He steps to the side, and the bathing house fills with the spa workers and primary customers. Gabriel does not join them however, choosing instead to stand in the darkness, his favored Cuban cigar drifting blue smoke out over the valley. A glimmer is seen in the inky night’s air, his eyes flashing as a torch’s light catches the preternatural brilliance for one illuminating moment. It seems for that second the Consigliere is satisfied, as the opening night party begins, the elite of Tyrant’s Cove invited one and all.

** Twas though Eterna had whispered inviting her to journey through the lush jungle to bare witness to the grand opening. Nerina ventured out dressed only in a maroon chemise and black sheer harem pants with satin slippers. She had no intentions of mingling amongst what would be an enormous gathering... however she desired a sneak peek of the grand event.

The tropical night's breeze molded her soft chemise against high, generously rounded breast.. A vision of a bewitching Enchantress, her silken mass of auburn hair bountiful.. soft shapely body, luscious lips... The strong clean lines of her face in stark profile would have been the envy of a Greco-Roman goddess.

"Bloody hell she's magnificent" Nerina payed little heed to the man, who spoke Italian with a heavy French accent, sounded arrogant and more than a bit drunk. He grabbed hold of her arm as though he wished to escort her... she hissed in fluent Italian.. "I shall scream Eterna down around your ears".. Instantly he released his grip upon her... A slight smile curved her lips then quickly vanished as she continued across the marble path .. the musical call of the fountain welcoming... her eyes brightened even more and a wry little smile played about her full lips.

Within her view stood Gabriel at the head of the procession, stilled before a black ribbon stretched taut across two gleaming pillars of bone colored marble. Nerina stood mesmerized.. the smile thinned his firm lips, which sent her heart into a frenzy of palpitation.. He turns, his vampiric eyes able to see everyone around him as they flicker and shadow in the torchlights illuminating the causeway... She steps behind a marble pillar, not wishing to draw any more attention.

She recalls her previous adventures long past.. the villa's portico, warm sunlight streaming down through the wisteria covered pergola overhead.. there she had painted her finest nude portrait of lovers embraced within an open bathing house.. one of her darkest secrets kept from the Darq Count, how she had wished to blossom into the ravishing beauty within the embrace.. she had cherished that which would surely have given him reason to bann her painting privledges. If only she had the luxury of such blissful forgetfulness but she had naught.

Her delicate brow arches... she'd been skinny then, now men found her mature form attractive, to say the least. She straightens her shoulders .. stepping out from behind the pillar..her gaze some what tormented.. She now wished to take fancy in the luxurious bathing house... the black velvet of the diamond encrusted sky, the atmosphere of mystery and dark secrets.. enticing

Nerina enters a private bathing house, discarding her clothing she tosses it aside and climbs within the steaming water... the pink tip of one lush breast surfaces from the water.. her creamy thigh and a seemingly endless expanse of leg slips above the waters surface as she perches the small foot atop the bathing pools confinery.. tilting her head back she allows it to rest upon marble.. her lashes flutter closed, her every nerve relaxing... making her somewhat vulnerable to possible dangers.

Her senses hummed with curiousity .. she suddenly found herself parched.. her breathing difficult... she felt positively muzzy-headed as an erotic tingle claims her body.. A soft whisper caresses her pouty lip.. "Damnation"... he was the most beautiful male she'd ever seen... If only he weren't so damnably good-looking!

A soft moan rises escaping her scarlet lips as realization sinks within... a Wanton Angel cursed with the Sin of Incarnal Lust .. tis what she is and can no longer deny... his image ablaze burning within her mind.. another dark secret.. hers alone, with a skillful perfection she shall paint his portrait on the bare canvas that rest upon the easel, which craves her attentions.

The Wedding of Deathz Angel Stryk, and Hannibal de'Medic
~Gabriel stands just outside the doors that house the groom and his attendants. His black tuxedo, black bow tie and cumber bun blend together in one flow of unyielding darkness. The only light that mars the heavy night coloring is the glowing ember from his cigar, and the slash of white from his shirt.~

~He hears the ruckus in the room behind him, though his eyes look continuously out towards the wedding area. The brown of his irises give little resistance to the deep ebony of the atmosphere as he watches the guests begin to file in. He hears a crash behind him, then a stream of curses from the Enforcer, and his lips thin in a firm smile of amusement at Hannibal’s discomfort at being poked and prodded into evening attire.~

~Soon enough it will be time to mingle with the guests, but for now he enjoys the humorous sounds from the grooms chambers.~

** Nerina stands silently in the distance observing, dressed in a striking mint green gown with dipping frontage that allows a modest view of cleveage... a bit on the thin side with a youthful glow... but ever fetching with auburn hair descending in artlessly arranged curls over her shoulders, down her bare back.. the great mass of deep russet spilling down her back, stopping just short of a tiny waist that rounded out to a pair of beautifully curved hips and a lush derriere.

A soft sigh escapes her... Her Art was her life which left no time for husbands or such foolery. She had studied painting in Italy. Always she had found men boring, all but the secrets which they held in their eyes on the few occassions she had painted the models in the nude. It was at the Ripe age she had known passion from the one who walked in her dreams, but he was not but fantasy plaguing her resting hours leaving her longing with desire.

** Nerina watches Gabriel, DeathzAngel approaches he.. and she notes the kiss upon his cheek. What was it about him... he was dressed much like the men she found most boring... yet she knew appearances could be decieving, something about him stirred passions deep within.. something she hadn't known exsisted outside her paintings.. her dreams.

The little voice within her head much like that of her haunting mother's... "Oh do try and smile dear. I dare say he won't bite you, but there you stand looking ready to pick up your skirts and flee.".. Nerina replys.. "I'd much prefer his company than the likes of you".. it was a frosty dismissal unaware she had spoken aloud.

She steps forth and gracefully strides past Gabriel ... a most bewitching smile curves her berry stained lips .. she pauses in step looking back at him she observes his backside when suddenly she is interrupted by a rich voice vibrating in a loud burst... soft laughter escapes her after the intial shock wears thin..... she steps through the entrance her gaze falling upon Hannibal and the mockery of tux he prefers to as a monkey suit. Trying to hide her amusement but desperately failing she speaks in a teasing manner...

"I see before me a most extroardinary beast that pays compliment to a monkey suit which in deed looks most fine upon a handsome gent as yourself."... boldly she steps forth.. cautious not to enrage him further... "I witnessed a breath taking beauty clad in not but a shirt... she shall be stunning in her bridal gown.. Dare I say she shall leave loves anticipated mark upon thee before the witching hour.. without doubt she awaits the Enforcer." Nerina notes that Hannibal's gaze shoots to the entrance.... she turns witnessing Gabriel ... his stance most intriguing.... quite blushed at his presence she looks between the two men... a quick wink to the groom as light laughter bubbles forth and she darts between Gabriel and the door ... making her escape she lightly brushes against Gabriel, leaving a tingle within that sets her aglow.

~Gabriel flicks his cigar between blunt fingers, the ash dropping down to mingle with the grass beneath his feet. He watches the ember’s slow descent, it seems almost in slow motion to the vampire, only turning to answer the Enforcer after the gray flickings land and spread over the green of the lush lawn.~

~His shoes reflect a torches light as he turns to walk back through the door, his Havana clenched firmly between his thinned lips, and that is his only herald to his arrival before the groom. Smoke and a whisper of mirrored light. He looks Hannibal up and down, seeing nothing but the artistry of his tailor, then clears his throat taking the cigar out to hold at chest level.~

“You clean up well Enforcer. You won’t embarrass us, si you’ll do.”

~A lip quirks up in a token of a joking smile, then straightens itself back around his cigar as first Nerina, then Felicity pour through the doors. His head bows naturally to the two beauties, then he straightens achieving his full height once again. This is barely accomplished when his brows both shoot up hearing Felicity’s orders.~

~He steps out of the way, behind Nerina as his eyes drift over her softness, his mind on the humor of the wedding couple and the frantic look in Felicity’s eyes. He looks then from Nerina to watch Hannibal spirited away to where the bride makes ready in the women’s chamber.~ “Good luck Enforcer…”

The calling out to Tha Ga-Gorib.

~The night opens up above the Consigliere’s head, spawning a darkness that is almost as deep as the blackness in his heart. The sky seems to shatter into a million fragments of sharply felt water as rain bursts down in a deluge similar to a monsoon. The vampire becomes soaked instantly, his clothing sticking to his body as he moves from the ferry onto the mainland of Tyrant’s Cove. His firm lips set in a grimace of anger and a dim sense of terrible loss he looks to the right as the Countess disembarks from the conveyance, followed by the Count, Felicity, Sabene, Carus, Nerina, Solange, Naomi, Raphael, and Tyris.~

~They have a destination…one told to them by an ancient…a path to the ancients, and Gabriel thinks of nothing but the path ahead of him. His chest swells as he begins the journey with his famiglia, filled with a dread of the unknown and the necessity of beginning what the Countess has demanded. The vampires travel in silence, each in their own thoughts as they follow a tired and almost nonnegotiable path up the side of a hill big enough to be called almost a mountain. This over looks the Windfire lake, glittering down below them, like a spangled banner seducing a weary traveler to its beauty only to turn cold and unfeeling once a bit of flesh is given it.~

~The rocks become larger, and the party must now climb insect like over the crevices, utilizing their entire arsenal of preternatural physical abilities. Hand over hand Gabriel climbs, his fingers shredding and beginning their healing process almost instantly, his fangs bared against his whitened lips as his muscles strain with the process.~

~Finally they reach the summit of this hill of the forgotten, this place of the ancients. A ruin of an altar greets them as they all look to each other a sense of foreboding flooding each of them for this place of secrets and the unknown. Suspicious by nature are vampires and they are no exception as the Consigliere watches the others scent the wind and look about themselves, a feeling of not being alone is overshadowing their fears creating a symbiotic balance between awe and a desire to flee.~

~Gabriel is chosen, for he is the diplomat of the famiglia, and he takes Felicity’s hand in his, the ‘sister’ of Hannibal, fledgling to Callista and the Catalyst’s links to how to communicate with Gods…the priestess seems ready, but she too looks as if she will be ill with fear of what is to happen…and the powerful feeling of emptiness the loss of one of their own leaves them. The Catalyst can never be whole without its links to each other, and now…that link has been strained and torn, tearing into each of their hearts more effectively than any slayers stakes.~

~He faces the altar with Felicity, and kneels down before it, the others following suit behind him, finding their places on the earth that has sustained them for so long in their supernatural eternity. He raises his hands and in one vicious act of unnoticed violence, he tears his elongated canines into the flesh of his palms…down, down he tears, through his wrists almost to the inner elbow. The blood is instant, great fonts burst from his arteries in crimson showers plastering against the thinner fluid of the rain. He forces his hands down on the altar as he drains his vitae over it, spilling in rain watered down rivers over the top and stone sides to mingle forever with the same earth he kneels upon.~

~His head becomes light and he has to concentrate to keep it from falling against his chest, his will strong as the blood that courses out of him in a seemingly unending fountain of famiglia sharing and misery. A great burst of that will forces his head up so that he peers into the heavens, the rain deluging his face as he opens his mouth and calls out, Felicity’s voice meeting his and carrying it higher into the skies with her woman’s higher pitched tone.~

”God of Fate, Ga-Gorib, we come to you in humble darkness seeking the way out. We do not come without offerings, hear us Lord of Destiny, we the children your twines direct and guide throughout the eternities.”

~The famiglia silent until now, lifts their voices in unity, hoping their plea for his attentions are met…the keening of vampires sounds through the night, breaking the silence in a lifting up of love, grief, and a drive to fulfill their destinies offered up now to the ties that bind.~

*Arriving at her famiglia's side, arrayed in purple and scarlet colour.. her soul naked and shamed before this God of fate.. she had been naive in mortal years, her faith in Fate blasphemed.

*A blessing in disquise had been the dark gift of her embrace unto the Catalyst and the wisdom in which the righteous Ga-Gorib was worshipped. The Kingdom full of darkness.. the famiglia plagued with death and mourning...She now cometh forth to repent.

*Nerina had failed to feast after her embrace..... in her hand she held a golden cup, full, the vitae pure and blessed with the dark gift. She hath glorified herself and lived deliciously to which she found much torment and sorrow. No More...

* In silence she cried out offering her salvation, glory, honour and power unto the Ga-Gorib ... As The heavens opened she knelt before the alter, pouring the contents from the golden cup atop her head which flowed bathing her with what once had been a disguised gift now merging with the blood of the famiglia's in offering.

"I kneel before thee a humble servant,faithful and true... doth judge in righteousness.. you reigneth true and great.. allow thy brethren, Catalyst DeMedici, to witness the altering thred... testimony to the spirit of prophecy. Only in Death may new Life be given.."

*Darkness swirls before her minds eye.. blackness claims her... Nerina remains in this state.... a sacrifice... Having been most fond of the Enforcer...tis the love of her that she willfully awaits, any.. hand fate might deal in the journey to the restoration of Hannibal.

The Answer.
- The God of Fate had heard enough. The tangled webs of fate seemed to have knotted themselves and now need cut loose. The calls of the Catalyst could be heard clearly even beyond the boundary of the space and time, behind the Veil that hides the Immortals. Their sadness was tangible here, their words and emotions flowing through the god in waves. Thought it was not this 'sensation' as mortals might describe it, but an offer that was too good to refuse.

- Tired was the Lord of Destiny of changing was has been wrought, but alas Its earlier work was not enough. A new measure would be needed. This brought tha Ga-gorib before the pillar of destiny and into it the God of Fate stretched Itsfingers. Hues of gold eminated from the pillar tha Ga-gorib's will manipulated the destinies involved.

- What would sound like a crack of thunder resounded along the length of the pillar as the god removed Its fingers. In that instant, with that thunderous sound, the flow of time resumed as the past was now...altered. Hannibal was alive, at his wedding. The events that led to the challenge, torn from the pages of history and rewritten. Maybe...it will be the last time.