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(Feeding) Chilly on the river bank

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  1. #1
    JC Smith's Avatar

    Attribute (Presence)
    (Quiet listener)
    Aspect of the Predator
    Mask of Tranquility
    JC Smith

    Cacophony Whisperer

    ((Feeding) Chilly on the river bank)Vitae 1 Spent
    1
    PRE

    It was an odd place for a homeless community to be. Cold air flowed along the low places, just as water did. It made the river bank at least a couple degrees colder than the surrounding area. It also made it abandoned. Normally society avoided the chill of the river valley. Which said nothing about the stink of the city’s water ways. It wasn’t… civilized.

    However, those very traits made it a congregation point for those on societies fringes. Made it isolated and free from harassment of the police and all but the most determined social worker. Not a big spot. JC wasn’t trying to cultivate a to large a population near his Haven. Not only for fear of discovery but because of how the laws were stated if he did it could be considered cultivating a herd or haven beyond what was allowed.

    Still, he’d chosen his sleeping place and fortified it against the dawn to be close to the humans that were now his people. His prey.

    He wondered from group to group occasionally striking up a conversation. Getting to no the locals but in many ways trying to stave off the loneliness of his existence. Share his story, what he could. Find and give comfort to those that were in many ways so close to his existence.

    Yet the hunger always surfaced. Drove him on, till he came upon a sleeping form. Miles? It had been a while since JC had hunted in the area but he recognized the man. Even if he couldn’t exactly remember their name. They smelled of ditch water, grass, and alcohol.

    JC stood (lurked) for several long seconds before checking his surroundings. No one seemed to be looking and even if they were the dark obscured just as much as vampiric powers could. The Savage knelt down and before they had a chance to wake, sank his fangs into the man’s neck. 'Miles' groaned. he beast didn't care but JC stopped short, swallowing the last of the blood in a gulp.

    He couldn't take too much. It was already cold. Minor blood loss could lead to freezing to death. Not that the death would likely be looked into. Still, this was close to his haven. JC tensed at such cold thoughts, hated that he had to have them. Tried to remind himself they were only trying to help.

    JC checked for breathing. Then checked for a pulse.

    failure


    Nothing.

    JC paused, reminded himself he wasn't a nurse,, had difficulty with his Clan's curse, and checked again.

    chance dice failure



    Still nothing. Damn. Yet still breathing.

    JC looked around. He could start CPR. He could call out for help. Yet that was what had put him at risk last time. Taking care of the victim. HIS victim. HARPER. His anxiety was rising. Normally checking for breath was enough but the events of the last few months were making him paranoid. Might be making him paranoid.

    JC took a step back. He was probably overreacting. Checking a pulse took practice. Practice he didn't have. Breathing had been enough before. It would have to be enough now. He got down and curled up next to the homeless man as if for warmth. The vampire even allowed his blood to flow so it wasn't just for show. Freezing was still a danger, he reminded himself.

    After ten minutes, nothing had changed. 'Miles' was still unconscious. Still breathing. Still alive. (Or brain dead)

    JC got up and headed uphill to warmer air, looking back once more to check the victim. His victim. His prey. His territory. Hopefully they were safe.
    Presence (Quiet Listener) 1 / BP1 / Mask of Tranquility


  2. #2
    Seryna's Avatar

    Jennifer Hazelton

    A few hours later, the homeless area rustled as Sue had an appointment over at the shelter. She and her friend moved slowly through the dark encampment. There was a momentary pause as they heard the concerned mutterings of old O'Hara, who was unreliable when drinking, but he was 30 hours sober now. Sue and Frank greeted the older man, but he was distracted and gestured to the rough sketch he was making. A back cat - like creature, but the head was misshapen. Concerned, Sue inquired what was going on with the cat drawing. O'Hara had worked as an illustrator for a time, and she wondered if he had relapsed in the night.
    There was something disturbing about the drawing, Sue considered as she looked at it again. Yet O'Hara himself seemed off, frightened but quiet. He wasn't talking at all.

    With a few comforting words, Frank and Sue headed off to not be late. What could have inspired that? They wondered.

    A few hours later, the newspaper was distributed. There was nothing about any deaths among the homeless. The news channel also carried nothing about a death reported. Perhaps JC's luck had turned around. Or perhaps foot traffic of that area was down in winter, and none of the homeless had carried news to authorities...

Closed Thread
     

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