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Post by Vincent on Dec 8, 2008 20:56:22 GMT -5
Vincent sighs as he sinks to the ground, his crimson eyes scanning the surroundings, taking drink of the sake in his hand, his eyes glowering lightly. The cherry blossom petals drifted slowly to the ground around him, the dark clothing he wore clearly seperating him from the pink flurry around him. He crossed his legs, the leather pants moving without a hint of noise, even the knee high leather boots were silent. His leather chest piece was in it's customary place, covering his upper chest. His muscled stomach and shoulders were left bare, long leather gloves covering from his palms to his elbows. He got a few looks from the rare travellers that passed by, though he was far removed from any established city. He was far into the country side of Japan, with nothing but the cherry blossoms and his sake to keep him company.
He sighs once, his eyes roaming the skys, his raven black hair sweeping across his eyes as shut them, the wind blowing lightly. His weapons were beneath him, hidden in the design of his clothing, looking like a swallow cut jacket of old. They were his own custom weapons that he made himself, his pride and joy, though he wasn't neccessarily as good with them as he was with a sword of any type. He didn't care, he limited himself on purpose in order to better himself. If he could become a great warrior with weapons unfamiliar to him, he could become that much more formidable with his favoured weapons and armor. He cracks his neck, taking another sip of his sake, shutting his eyes in meditation, as his master had taught him many years ago, in this same area. It had been centuries since he'd seen his master, a samurai of no little renown, he had passed away long before this, but had left him a legacy of a weapon and his technique that he invented himself.
"Ah my master, what would you do in my shoes?" he says with a sigh, his crimson eyes opening once more, staring at the stars above, the country side leaving them bright and numerous. "I have few allies, no friends, no lover, nothing. I have nothing that you say makes a life great and worth living." he laments sadly, shaking his head, taking another drink of his sake. "I guess I'll just keep training, and work on protecting those that can't fight." he says with a grin, thinking of the following line in a song he knew, "And if I lose, at least I tried!" he says with a short laugh. What he needed, was a mentor. One that could teach him a few new tricks for the war that seemed about to ensue. He had one trick up his sleeve from his master, but it wouldn't be enough to help him that much in a fight, it was a finisher move, not one that could help destroy his enemy, or set them up for the finisher move. He sighs once more, staring at the stars, sipping his sake in solitary silence.
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Post by sbs on Dec 8, 2008 21:19:27 GMT -5
It was soon that the blissfully scirene senedae that was blessed upon the casual vampire was disturbed as the body of a cloaked figure was flung past him, flipping and bouncing upon the ground as he slid to a hualt. From the direction of where the cloaked figure came from he walked, a second cloaked figure, though this one certainly different than the one desperatly scurring on all fours like a fearful rat running from a large pedatory cat. His cloak hung from his shoulders, flowing down to the earth as his steps made it bellow and dance within the winds themselves. His ebony hood concieled a quater of his face as the strains of hair that matched the same color of the moon trailed down, reaching past his chin and concieling the rest of his face.
His gloved hands gripped around the grip of his ancient sword as the clanking of metal greeves resinated softly with each heay step he took. "I'll repeat myself... Where, is... Vicious, Shadows, and Amoura." His cold voice struck ice down the spine of the man in the cloak as he interogated the man. The cloaked man insisted he didn't know but only received a greeve upon his chest which pinned him down. With a long screech the sword was drawn from it's scabard and spun, the grip of the blade held in Reverse as his gray eyes unable to be seen through the veil of his bangs stared death to man under the hood. "Tell me... Now." An order was calmly darked from the man's lips as the tip of his blade was pressed to the pinned man's adam's apple. With a cracking and shaking voice he insisted he knew nothing only to recive the blade pushed into his neck abruptly, decapitating him as he wasted away instantly to ash.
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Post by Vincent on Dec 8, 2008 21:49:51 GMT -5
Vincent watches passively, sipping his sake as the vampire flew past him. After watching the vampire destroy the second one, he clears his throat, "Hey, you're ruining my vacation kid." he says with a smile, not really upset. He raises to his feet, brushing off himself, picking up the katana that had sat by his side, sliding it onto his belt. He holds out a bottle of sake for the newcomer, "Thirsty? Fresh sake. I know who you're looking for. I'm after one of them myself. Sit with me?" he asks with a raised brow, gesturing towards the ground he'd claimed beneath the tree. He appraises the man in silence, taking a careful scan of him. A formidable foe, but one that he'd dispatch easily if he went full out, of that he was certain. But why turn a potential ally into a foe? "My name is Vincent, Vincent Valtieri." he says with a bow, rising and watching the man still, his stance unhostile.
He takes a sip of his sake, his crimson eyes never leaving this newest arrival. He was certainly interesting, to say the least. "Nice blade, by the way. Archaic by the looks of it, I can't really place the era and country of origin, and that bothers me to be honest." he says with a laugh. "Good moves though, advanced, in control, like a vampire of many older years that has devoted a life time to fighting. Tell me, why are you looking for the three? Any particular reason? Or is it just vengeance?" he asks, genuinely curious. Was it venegeance? Or was the a reason less obvious? Perhaps just for the betterment of the world as a whole. It was rare indeed to find someone like that, so he doubted that was the mans reason. He was curious as to this mans true strength, and was more than a little antsy to try and fight him himself, though he knew he wouldn't, why bother? He didn't know the man well enough to challenge him for no better reason that to test him.
"If you're looking for companions in your desire to slay the three, if that's what it truly is, then I and two others I know of can assist you, if you are willing to work with us. Alone, any of us would lose, overrun by minions I presume. But together, the four of us, and any others we could find, could more than likely topple them." he says with a shrug, smiling lightly, thinking of the man he wanted to kill. "Is there a specific one you're after? Or just the three in general?" he asks, his head cocked lightly to the side, his expression intent. If he was gunning for Shadows as well, they'd need to find a way to resolve who got to kill him. Perhaps he'd give this younger fighter the first round, and take Shadows down when he was weak, as much as he'd hate to use someone like that. No, perhaps it'd be best to take the first fight himself, there was no way Shadows could escape a fight with him unharmed, under any circumstances, of that he was certain.
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Post by sbs on Dec 8, 2008 22:27:59 GMT -5
This man, seemed to go on and on about himself, though it was apparent that he was old and wise. His smoke colored eyes shifted slowly towards him, nodding as he lowered the hood that eclipsed his face. Though his bangs sheilded most of his visade, his expression of focus seemed as though it was etched in stone. the blade was spun, whistling before becoming sheilded from the world, guided back in it's sheath. "I have no true name, it... with my past has been ripped away." He spoke in a cool and calm tone that matched the very air that hung within this night. Grasping the sake bottle in his gloved hand he tilted his head back and took a small sip.
Handing it back to the man he finnished his sentence. "Though I have no true name you may call me Daikus." The stated an alias he had become quite fond of. As the man notioned towards his blade he glanced down, then returned his gaze towards to the new vampire. The subtle pushing of the breeze that blew past them getnly flung his white hair here and there. "This sword... it called to me when I was awaken by the blood countess. I have no true knowledge of it. Though my race dates back nearly thousands of years... the once mighty Drow." He stated, walking towards where Vincent had offered.
"I am after all three personally... Mainly Vicious, though I beleive Shadows and Amoura know where he has dissapeared to." He informed, resting his back agianst the tree. He paused slightly before continuing his explination. "At a young age of 19 I was changed by the pure blood, only knowing little, I was trained by him but then rebeled as I regained glimpses of my original skill. then I scoured the earth training before becoming captured agian, this time sealed away for 100 years until I was released by Amoura." He stated, his lips only moving whenever he spoke and nothing else more. "Mainly fail becuase they fight honorably while these three have grasped the concept that fighting... is fighting." He said as the fragrance of the cherry blossom petals entered his notrils.
"No matter what you do... Fighting, whether honorable or not... is fighting... to fight honorably... is to set yourself with rules and restrictions that would give an advantage to those who grasp that there is no honor within battle."
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Post by Vincent on Dec 9, 2008 14:21:21 GMT -5
Vincent smiles, "Ah, but there is honor in a fair fight, between two equals that fight on even footing. Scum like Shadows have no sense of the term honor, and will fight by stabbing the opponents in the back, instead of facing them fairly, on grounds neutral to both." he says with a smile, taking a seat next to the man. "I know nothing of Vicious, little of Amoura, and a fair bit of Shadows. I know he works mainly within New York, but has a home in Europe. Amoura wanders around much, wherever bloodshed and carnage take her, of Vicious, I have only heard his name in passing, associated with the three. I'm sorry I'm unable to point you in his direction." he says with an apologetic smile. He sets the bottle of sake down by the man, drawing another bottle from the bag he'd brought with him, taking a sip for himself, sighing contentedly. "The drow? Yes, I've heard of them. An ancient race, as the stories go, powerful and ruthless by all means, devoted to chaos and combat. But you, you seem far different from the stories associated with your people, I find that intriguing, to be frank." he says with a glance, taking a sip of his sake.
"But don't jump to conclusions, I don't hold your heritage against you, tis foolish to judge a man by his race, or a race by his man. Judge them by their actions, and let them devise their own reputation." he says with a shrug, aware that he sounded too much like an old guy. "Bah, to hell with this, I sound like an old fart. Daikus huh? Interesting name, I asume it's meaningful to you, else you wouldn't have chosen it for yourself." he says with a shrug, taking another sip. His new found companion was strange, that was certain. And his heritage stranger still. He'd heard stories of the drow, and had seen what they'd become in the human world. Could they have truly existed so long ago? Could they truly exist now? By all the stories he'd heard, there had been no greater fighters than the drow, and if he could persuade one to teach him, he'd become much more formidable. "Glimpses of your true skill you say? Techniques of the drow? I must say, if the stories are true, most men would give anything to learn them, to become that much more powerful, though I can't say as their reasons would be pure. You seem like a good person, let none with evil in their hearts persuade you Daikus, your skills would be highly valued should their existence become known. I would't be suprised if you had people beating on your doors begging you to just show them a technique!" he says with a laugh.
He falls into silence, staring across the open space, it was clear his companion wasn't much of a talker, though it didn't bother him in the least. Talkative or no, he could entertain himself. He was still a little suprised to discover that the drow had actually existed, though they must surely be long sicne dead, shouldn't they? But this boy of drow heritage seemed to throw that into chaos, and it made him wonder if they still existed. By the stories, he was definetly unusual. Heavy armor, a large blade, and one not devoted to chaos or blood shed. The anti-thesis of everything he'd heard and researched. Perhaps it was all merely a ruse? A smoke screen to keep his opponents off guard? No, this man seemed of the honest type, and he could detect no lies in his words, which brought him back to the question of the existence of Drow, a question he'd pondered much over the years, one that he'd forgotten decades ago. This new comer to the battle field was an enigma to him, and one that he was more than a little curious to unwravel, to determine the truth or falsehood to his words, to perhaps answer his question finally, and put it to rest. And to perhaps acquire a new ally, and if he was lucky, a teacher.
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