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From the Pinnacle to the Pit; [Private: Iris]
Topic Started: Sun Jul 30, 2017 10:32 pm (309 Views)
Iris
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Iris clawed in futility as the orc held her. A few bubbles escaped from her lips. The world darkened. The hands left. Iris floated back to the surface and quietly blew water out of her mouth. She inhaled. Exhaled. Then pulled herself out of the water. Blood soaked the stones around them. It was a short, violent fight. Iris's neck ached. "I almost died." She rasped. She rose to her feet and pulled her towel around her waist. "They'll kick us out for sure. Dammit."

Vaska was staring at the blood spilled all over the baths. "Yeah. They probably will." After a long pause, the vampire looked at Iris again. "Get cleaned up while you can. Where do you live? I can't return to the Sykora estate like this."

Iris blushed. "Uh, nowhere special. I got a little place just a few days ago." She picked her way out of the baths and handled the apologies for the pair. Her drooping ears helped their case considerably. They were uncomfortably wet now on the streets. As resilient as Iris was to the cold, having her shaggy neon-blue hair actually freeze to her face was a deeply unpleasant thing. She kept her arms close as they wound through a few more streets to a solidly middle class district. A small building turned out to be their destination, a place with a bit of balefiren charm. A lone werewolf sat at the desk as they walked in.

"You look like shit, but at least you've dragged in a strange callgirl. Fights went well?"

At the accusation of being a callgirl, Vaska turned to Iris and wiggled her eyebrows either quizzically or provocatively. Maybe both.

Iris became beet red. The sort of red of a blazing fire. The red of a dozen tomatoes smashed into bricks slathered with red dye. "Uhh. Yea. R-r-real well. She's not a callgirl, she's a butler. I think. Not my butler, just a butler." To evade further embarrassment, she brough Vaska to the second floor and opened the door with a key. The interior was near barren except for a bed and a hefty dwarven crest - bronze dwarven knots encircling the head of a sabretooth tiger in laminated, glassy blue - and the fireplace. Iris loaded it with coal and lit the fire. "What do you think?" She sat down on her hips, legs stretched out, in front of the fire.

Vaska bent at the waist and shed her fur-lined cape and mantle as she stepped through the threshold into Iris' small dwelling. She'd already removed her high-topped hat when heading indoors. With a flourish, she folded her extra clothing and set it on the floor next to the door, already making herself at home. "A fine domicile. Reminds me of my own cave."

Iris flopped beside the flames. "A cave? Really? I mean I lived in the dwarven cities, but never a cave."

"It's an upscale cave. Intricately carved by master cavesmiths." If she was joking, Vaska's face didn't betray any of it. "Samotaric vampires live in maternity colonies, similar to bats. I came from the Lakatos maternity colony which was built under the Sykora mansion. My room is a bit like this, except with a blood storage chest instead of a dwarven crest. What's the story behind that one, hm?"

"So, dwarven housing then?" Iris asked. "So samaritac vampires are matriarchal? Or something? And they build a colony for you? Is it...like...uh..." She blushed again. "Okay, so, the crest! Right! I made it when I was young and then commissioned a smith to make it earlier this year. That's for my family. The Iris clan."

"Sa-mo-tar-ic," Vaska corrected, taking a seat next to Iris in front of the fire. Rather than facing the flames, she held her back to them, maintaining her posture to absorb more heat. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, wearing a pleased expression. "So you came from the Deep Cities, but you're hasenka. If you're from Clan Iris, what's your given name? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm going to make one for myself. I'll get a really awesome title, or a bunch, and I'll pick the best one to make my last name." She nodded. "The hasenka-thing is kinda confusing. I'd ask mom, but she became a Stranger at some point and then put me up in a dwarven orphanage."

The vampire's eyes snapped straight to Iris, wide. "Wait, what? Your mother became a Stranger? That's not something you just kind of shuffle into the back end of a comment, you know."

"Well, I don't really know a damn thing about her beyond an eyeless woman in a wedding dress handed me over to some dwarves. So, back end of a comment is a good place for dear ol' mom." Iris crawled closer to the flame.

"You're a bit of an odd duck, aren't you," Vaska mused, leaning back onto her palms.

"I don't swim well enough to be a duck." Iris responded. Her tail swished back and forth as she looked up at Vaska. "So, uh, I only got the one bed. It is a big bed, but I'm a bit of a sprawler."

"Don't worry. As part of my training, I'm well-equipped to handle situations like this. Keep the bed to yourself. I'll be chaste." The vampire's eyes gleamed.

Iris sprang upright onto all fours. "Chased!?"

"Chaste. As in, I won't hit on you or do anything strange."

"Oh." She flopped back down. "Meh." Iris sprawled out across the floor. "The only problem with a guest is I can't lounge in front of my fire properly." The lights outside the apartment began to fade, darkening it. "Oh. Goodie. This is one of the not-vampire districts, so they turn down the lights sometimes so the rest of us can sleep."

"I honestly wouldn't care. You're free to do what you like in your own home. And if it's nudity in particular you're worried about, I think tonight's misadventure has probably smoothed out any misgivings on that front. Even despite that, I've seen plenty of bare flesh in my life that it would take a lot to shock me."

Iris gradually and quite fluidly took up the vast majority of the space around the fire. "Naw, you didn't see much. I was wearing a bunch o' bandages. Still not comfortable with that, especially not in my own home." Iris grabbed one of her other few implements, a poker, and spread the coal about until it was just a smoldering pile of ash. "It gets really cold. We can stick you above the cotton sheet, beneath the blankets. I don't want you to freeze miss samo-vampire."
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Drawing her knees up toward her chest, Vaska touched her chin as her thoughts drifted through the events of the past night. Since Iris seemed to be getting ready for bed, the vampire contented herself with reflecting.

Serah had gotten away. In fact, Vaska had let her. She'd chosen this friendly, daft hasenka over her mission. The bottom fell out of her gut at the thought of that indignity, and she was suddenly glad all over again that she'd invited herself to Iris' apartment. She wasn't sure what the Sykora demon spirits would do once they found out. And they would. Vaska wouldn't dream to lie to them.

The thought of being chastised by them made her wilt. All she wanted was their praise, but what she did would garner the exact opposite. So why did she do it? Even if Iris had drowned to death, what good was there in her surviving if it didn't ultimately lead to the recapturing of a living Sykora?

No, that was it. Vaska was just thinking a few steps ahead. Iris would be critical in the upcoming mission. She knew that now. She was certain, in fact. It didn't have anything to do with Vaska's personal opinions, and it by no stretch of the imagination had even the remotest connection to her current status in life: alone, abandoned, and in limbo.

What Vaska wanted was irrelevant if it had nothing to do with the mission she'd been given.

As time went on, it was harder for her to tell herself that even from the barest practical standpoint: in their flight, she had no chance to acquire any blood to drink. That one bite during the fight with the half-orc was just a mouthful, and it had only made her hungrier. Talking to Iris helped distract her from this reality, but now that they existed in companionable silence Vaska found herself fidgeting and restless.

Vaska rapidly came up with a new topic of discussion. "About your payment. I was serious when I said I'd hire you as a temporary contractor. A mercenary. Until we house Serah in the Sykora Mansion, I'll pay you a hefty sum for man-hours, resources donated, and other contributions you make."
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Iris disappeared into a side-room for a few minutes and reappeared dressed in something incredibly suitable for flumping about. She almost regretted putting out her fire, but truth be told she was a tired lass. Her big, fur-lined robe crated in the thick-collared dwarven style was nearly luxurious and gave her a formless, dwarf-like figure. She sat down beside the twitchy Vaska, wondering why the butler was suddenly acting up. "Uh, well, I guess I'd take some pay. Can't hurt, right? Do I have to sign any contracts?"

"Only if you'd like me to draft one up for you. All part of my training as a servant." Vaska used one thumb to massage her other palm, staring at the dying fire.

"Contracts bother me. I hired a local vampire lawyer type when I needed to sign the Balefire Fighting Contract. The ethereal is in the details, and I'm not good at complex legal writing. So no contract is best." Iris slowly laid down beside Vaska. "Mf. Maybe I should spread my spare quilts out on the floor."

The vampire looked at Iris. "Tell me where they are and I'll get them. You almost died today, and you've done enough. I'm the servant, anyway."

"The side room in the big pine box. Get out the carpet, too, I want to protect my quilts."

She followed those directions with great haste -- either because of her frequently-referenced servant training or because she was cold. Vaska draped one of the proffered quilts over her shoulders and huddled in it, sitting cross-legged. She sighed.

"This is nicer than my living quarters, to be honest."

Iris went to quick work, pulling her mattress from her bed and then forming a massive, ornate pile of quilts and blankets until she was happily sticking only her head and arms out. "They told me it got cold here, so half the matrons in the orphanage made me a quilt each. My favorite is the one with the mammoths."

"Wow. What did they demand for repayment in return for the quilts?"

"Um. Nothing? They were gifts." Iris peered over at Vaska. "I appreciate you staying the night. I...wasn't sleeping well alone."

"Oh! Sorry. That makes sense. I was under the impression gifts were just a tool nobles used to make political moves on each other."

"You had a shitty childhood." Iris was deep in the act of pulling the quilts in around her. "At least the orphanage was fun."

"I beg your pardon! I had a great childhood, thank you very much! What shitty childhood would produce someone as elegant as me?" Looking pleased with herself, Vaska straightened her back even as she drew her lump of quilt closer to herself.

"I dunno, I'd rather get quilts made with love than elegance." Iris prodded Vaska through the impossible whorl of quilts. "I mean, was it about you or was it about them, uh, girls you are looking for."

"It's not just girls. You make me sound like some kind of skirt-chaser. As for your other question, I don't know what you're getting at. My clan, Lakatos, has served House Sykora for generations. If we didn't, we would surely die. All kinds of predators would snap us up. I think I already told you this, in fact."

"Predators? Aren't you a vampire? And a sentient to boot. Who'd want to eat you folk?"

"We're not like the powerful vampires you read about in the five-copper novels. We're just trash. Parasites who sneak around and lap up a bit of blood here and there while nobody is looking. Our bites don't even change people's physiology. If it weren't for the Sykoras, I bet Clan Lakatos would still be going around biting livestock and getting killed by Gloomwood werewolves for fun."

"Human-ish sorta? Balefire isn't a great place to be a human or humanish. I think I'd have a rough time if I wasn't a hasenka. How many members of your clan are still around?"

Vaska looked down at the floor. "Just me. They all... everyone left, and didn't tell me where they went." She smiled back at Iris. "They're all weaklings. Cowards. Pathetic, no-good garbage. I'll remember my dues if they won't."


"You didn't need them anyways!" Iris cried out in agreement. The blanket laden hasenka grabbed Vaska and pulled her onto the bed. "You've had a hard time. Don't sleep there, share my nest with me."
Edited by Iris, Thu Aug 17, 2017 12:36 am.
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Vaska's first instinct was to put up with it, even though she didn't agree even a little that it was the best course of action. The proximity alone wouldn't be the issue. She was hungry. Her reliance on huge amounts of blood, delivered to her bagged and cooled by the Sykora family every single night, became crippling in situations like this.

How can other vampires be fine with only a modest drink every few days? Even ones that are the same strain. What's wrong with me?

She stared at the ceiling, waiting for Iris to fall asleep. That way, Vaska could crawl out and find a place to sleep on the opposite corner of the apartment. At their current proximity, the vampire could nearly hear the hasenka's heartbeat. If she only reached out a bit, she'd be able to feel her pulse. Fresh blood, right there, so close... Vaska bit her tongue and screwed her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breathing.



The dream was becoming a recurring one. She'd be standing at the banquet table in the Sykora mansion, and there'd be food across the whole length of it. Real food, not blood. Spiced meat, braised vegetables, desserts, drinks of all descriptions. Even if she vaguely knew she was dreaming, Vaska swore she could smell it all.

It was always an embarrassing dream. Vaska would tear into the feast like a savage, eating everything she could with bare hands, even if it meant crawling on the table and ruining her suit. The whole time, she'd hear the Sykoras laughing at her.

Vaska woke up with a dry throat. Helping herself to some of Iris' stores of water didn't make it better, so she fell back on routine and started searching for a means to cook breakfast. Nothing. The vampire went to wake Iris.

"What do you usually eat for your first meal? We'll get it quickly, and then resume our pursuit of Serah."
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Iris had already managed to get dressed and leave the quilt during the few seconds Vaska had turned. She smiled. "Oh! There's a really good baker nearby. I'll go get some breakfast, make yourself at home."

The servant nodded and immediately got to work cleaning.

Iris disappeared. It wasn't more than thirty minutes later when she returned toting a paper bag and a dozen new scrapes and scuffs. "I got spinach pastries and meat pastries." Iris deposited the bag on the floor near Vaska and nibbled on a spinach pastry."

Vaska quietly sniffed the air and then settled down next to Iris, staring straight forward in a deliberate way. "Why are you all banged up from a trip to the bakery? Don't tell me you stole these."

"Oh, no, the local gang was trying to get protection money out of the apothecary." Iris nibbled furiously as her tail swished. She grabbed a second spinach pastry. "Eat up, you'll need your strength."

The vampire's eyes snapped to Iris. "M-Me? Eat this?" She forced a laugh, like it was a joke. "I'm a vampire. We just drink blood. It's okay though, I'm still plenty strong."

Iris's ears perked up. "So why did you want to cook then? I honestly wouldn't have gotten the meat pastries if I knew you didn't eat."

"I was going to cook for you. It was a reflex." Vaska stared at the meat pastries, looking depressed.

Iris picked up the meat pastry and brought it closer to Vaska. It had light, flaky crust and little bits of bacon, scallion and darkened, near-burnt cheddar on the exterior.

After staring even harder, the vampire tore her eyes away with a resolute frown that quivered at the edges. "You don't like meat? You'll throw them away?"

"If I eat meat, the urge to fight gets worse. So I don't eat meat, but I figured a samotanic vampire would prefer a meat pastry."

color=#6b8e23]"I see. Thank you for the kind consideration."[/color] Vaska eyed the pastries like she was starving. "Well, it can't be helped. I suppose I'll eat them, just so they don't go to waste." She grabbed one, brought it up to her mouth, and paused. "Don't tell anyone, alright?"

"Um, okay." Iris didn't quite understand the intricacies of vampires. "So it was hunting for your Serah-lady right? Well, if she was at the fighting ring she either likes to fight or has a need for lots of money, quickly!"

The meat pastries were already gone. Vaska was dabbing at her mouth with a handkerchief, wearing an expression so regretful that it seemed excessive. Her cheeks were flushed and she overall had a lot more color in her skin after eating. At Iris' mention of needing money, Vaska was brought out of whatever reverie she'd been in. "That's a very good point. I never thought of that. I just assumed she was being rebellious for the hell of it. But how do we figure out if it's one option or the other? It's not like we can track her debts."

"I just hit people for a living." Iris finally finished the second spinach pastry. "Uh, is there people we could talk to or something? Maybe at the ring?"

"The bet-collectors or fight organizers might know more about her."

"That seems like a job for someone swanky. Like you. Let's get back to the ring." Iris brushed her lips off, tied her hair into a ponytail and set off. The ring was quieter. Less bettors, less staff. The wait staff was less alluringly dressed and more professional. The fight was between a pair of fencers. "Oh, they do more structured fights in the mornings." Iris leaned on the edge of the ring. "Hrm, I don't have a martial art registered or a weight class." One of the fencers went down to a sudden kick followed by a thrust. Blood bubbled up when the blade was removed, but a pair of medics sprang from a hidden door on the wall and quickly removed the fighter. Iris had never noticed them when she had been in the ring for the first time last night. "Uh, okay. I'm not dressed for shmoozing." It wasn't for a lack of trying. Iris had paired grey trousers with a black button-up shirt. Her wardrobe wasn't particularly vast.
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Even though Iris was undeniably daft, she could recognize her new friend's inherent swankiness. That was good enough for Vaska. She led the way into the pit like she owned the place. A faint smile played at her lips. "Now this is much improved. Like night and day, as the foreigners say. I haven't forgotten about your suit, by the way." The last comment she issued to Iris in passing, pointing at her with her hand turned palm-up. "Even still, you look presentable enough to accompany me."

They passed the fight. Vaska's eyes homed in on the tiny patch of blood. Luckily, the non-vampire food had hit the spot. Not only was she in a great mood, but she didn't feel any desire for blood at all. She was confident she could extract the information she needed now.

After subtly scouting out the area for potential people to question, Vaska noticed an off-duty waitress watching her. She padded up to the smartly dressed elf, heels of her boots clicking against the floor with each step. Putting on her most winning smile, she bowed and gave a polite greeting. Her hand slipped under the staff member's, lifting it to her lips.

The waitress was shocked enough to allow a gesture that was undoubtedly far too formal for the situation. Her cheeks flushed. "You just looked like you needed help, is all."

"Then I'd be honored to be helped by you. Would you be so kind as to point me to the fight coordinator?" That got them in the right direction and even let them back into some of the rooms where the management hung out.

Once they were out of earshot, Vaska wore a pleased expression and tugged on the collar of her suit to smooth it out. "I hope you're taking mental notes, Iris. These are tried and true Sykora techniques I learned in my training."
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"Oh. Was I not presentable before?" Iris blushed. She followed along as Vaska probably crossed a line with a waitress to get directions. "It looked like you were just trying to pick her up." They went off to the fight coordinator, an elderly probable human male that Iris barely knew beyond the few phrases he had spoken to her.

"You gunna register a proper martial art or is it just open-class scumsucking for you?" Iris flinched. She shook her head.

"No, I'm with Serah Sykora's caretaker. She wants to bring Serah home."

"Ain't my job." Iris turned nervously to Vaska. She looked back to the coordinator.

"Jimmy, she's probably in with some bad people. You wouldn't want to offend a powerful family like the Sykoras, right?"

"Quite the contrary. Bringing her back is an order straight from Sykora family leadership. I'll gladly offend anyone in order to retrieve her." Vaska stood straight, folding her arms behind her back.

"They all died, though. Chasin' ghosts and refugees. Pointless." Jimmy grumbled. He looked around the ring quickly. "I don't like seein' folk who shouldn't be here without good cause. Serah got in with the Silverbear group. I dunno what the fights were really to her." Iris nodded with Jimmy's wisdom, then pulled the butler-lady away.

"Thanks, Jimmy." They were back on the street quickly enough. "The Silverbears work the Slazno district. I think. Dunno what they do." Iris fumbled for the weapons she wasn't carrying. "Should we go back and grab our gear? Though you probably don't intend to start a streetfight, right?"
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"I wouldn't mind some freeform fisticuffs if it comes down to it," Vaska said. To illustrate, she briefly held up her white-gloved fists and waved them around. "Let's make sure we're amply prepared before we go busting doors down and hassling gangbangers. If we can eliminate Serah's need for leaving her home in one fell swoop, it'll be a simple win on our part. And this time, we'll ride in style."

She whistled. Outside, the horse attached to her carriage perked up, having been nibbling on some darkweeds growing out of the curb. Vaska took off her fur-lined cloak and draped it over Iris' shoulders. While she was close, she added: "I apologize, by the way. You've always been presentable enough. You just look even more dapper now!" Then the vampire padded up to the side of the carriage to take position before Iris reached it. "Would you like to sit inside, or up on the driver's bench with me? Either way I can assist you, if it pleases."

Iris followed her out to the carriage. "Ooo. For all your commoner avoiding needs." Iris hopped in over Vaska's head. "I just need my axes and my shield. I'm not up for freeform fisticuffs."

"I've always fancied people who could take care of themselves," Vaska replied cheerfully after whistling to show she was impressed with the jumping feat. She climbed up into the driver's bench and scooted to the center so her hips were touching Iris'. The vampire untied the horse's lines from the bar in front of the bench and offered them to the hasenka. "Ever driven before?"

"Nope! Never even been on a horse. I flew here! That was really fun." Iris looked down at the massive horses. "Maybe you should figure out what Serah really wants so you can replicate it at the Sykora household? She might be more willing to stay if she's happier."

"That's... brilliant. Legitimately." She paused to show Iris the basics of driving, and they set off. "How would we do that if she thinks we're up to no good? We also beat up her friends. Should we keep stalking her instead of going after the Silverbears?"

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The horses took off at a speed somewhere between nightmarish and plodding as Iris struggled with the basic concept of giving the horses the proper amount of slack on the reins. She let Vaska guide them into the tighter street she lived on. Iris darted inside, collected her things from beside the door then rushed back out and onto the carriage. "Come on, come on, we've got bad decisions to make and I'm still sober."

Slazno district was half in a swamp. Half because the streets had partly sunk into it and endless work was being done to add more cobbles as they sunk. Iris put the reins back in Vaska's hands before she hurt one of the big, cute horses. "I'm not a big fan of water. Okay, uh, here's what I know about the Silverbears. They run half the local protection racket. Other half goes to the Slazno Pack, which is a bit crazy. A lot of fights between the two over the territory. There's not a lot of people or stuff here owing to the old bog they built on. It eats...buildings. Streets. Streetlights. The only thing still standing is the Spike, and they probably made sure it wouldn't sink. Oh, there's a ranch here too. Gloomwood beef! Tastes terrible. Dwarven yak is much better."
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"I'll have to take your word on that one."

There was a harsh thud as something struck the side of the carriage. The vampire turned to see what it was--

Sometimes Vaska had to marvel at how quickly some things could go straight to hell. One moment she could be driving her carriage, listening to Iris explain some of the political underpinnings of the neighborhood around them. Then the sky switched places with the ground and there was fire and heat and smoke and the sound of her horse screaming.

Time caught up with her when she was laying on the ground, still stunned. Her blurry vision came back into focus, revealing green flames rising from what was once her carriage.

Figures drew up all around her, holding bared weapons. Vaska tried to move, and from that pain realized that the shrapnel had covered her in nasty cuts and punctures and bludgeoning wounds. "Iris?" she called out.

Iris rose from the cobbles and mud. She wiped it from her eyes. "I'm here."

A crossbow's foothold jammed into Vaska's arm. The vampire bit her tongue to stop from crying out. Its wielder brought the weapon's stock to her shoulder and aimed it down at her, forcing Vaska to lay on her elbows. The face, she realized, was familiar: one of Serah's minions. Fully clothed, the woman wore a silver bandanna just like everyone else in the encroaching crowd.

"Thanks for the favor, everyone. I really owe the boss." It was Serah's voice. "You can't take a hint, can you? I did some research. You're Vaska Lakatos. A halfie!" There was laughter in her voice. "No wonder the Lakatos colony abandoned you. Like a dumb mutt, you'll protect those Sykoras till your dying breath, won't you? Well, I like my new life in the Silverbears. A lot. And I'm perfectly okay with every remnant of the old family disappearing."
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A werewolf held an oversized blade towards Iris's throat. She paused at half-rise and met the werewolf's eyes with her own narrowed eyes. She grinned. "This is quite a day." The carriage rested between herself and Vaska. The rest of the group was focused on Serah and Vaska's chat. "Wolf." Her arm snapped up and grabbed the wolf's by the wrist. She pulled him off balance and twisted his arm against the direction of the rotation. The arm began to bend strangely and then stopped. Iris brought her ax blade into it. Once. Twice. A bone shattered. The lycanthrope dropped the blade and desperately brought up his fist to strike Iris.

Iris stood from the lycanthrope, dripping blood and with a crescent moon smile on her face. "Ah." Her left arm hung limply. "I would let her go if I were you."

Serah gave a hollow, exasperated chuckle. "Do you really think you can take all of us on?"

"No." Iris walked forward. "I only need to take one life here." She twirled her ax. Blood flew free of the blade. "Do you think they could stop me from killing you, Sykora?"

"Don't kill her!" Vaska croaked.

"Okay, okay, I get that you're [removed]ing insane and are going to take us all on, but humor me here because I'm curious. Why on earth do you follow this halfie around? That just boggles the mind."

"Because I want to." Iris stopped only six feet from the outlying thug. "Release her."

"Mmm... no."

Everyone moved at once. While Serah started making the gesture for her minion to fire their crossbow at Vaska, the vampire herself began to move. At the same time, an arrow trailing flares of ethereal fire and smoke shot from a nearby rooftop straight toward Iris.

The arrow struck Iris in her battle haze. Her vision snapped up to where the sniper was. Iris grit her teeth and she jumped over the mob, over all the people moving to protect Serah.

The crossbow bolt embedded fletching-deep into Vaska's shoulder, and yet the half-vampire didn't stop moving. She came up and headbutted her shooter in the face, then whirled around and aimed a kick at Serah. The Sykora neatly backstepped, sliding on a pair of metal knuckles. Silverbears lunged at Vaska, trying to grab her and throw her back down.

A hand reached up and snagged Iris out of the air. She tumbled straight into Serah and the two went down in a pile. She snapped to her feet, kicking Serah away and grabbed Vaska. She forced her towards the open gap made by the Silverbear's attempt to stop Iris. "Go!"

Vaska caught herself from a stumble and tore into a sprint, her ruined arm trailing behind her.

Iris kept right behind her. Another arrow landed home. She screamed and only just caught herself with an outstretched foot. It nearly collapsed out from under her. "Vaska, duck into the next ally! I can get us somewhere safe after that!"

color=6b8e23]"You're really hurt,"[/color] Vaska said, almost too quietly to be heard. Nevertheless she obeyed, darting into a side corridor where her boots almost immediately began to slop through half-frozen mud.

They shifted and darted and crossed busy streets until the Silverbears gave up the chase. After reaching Iris's home district she slowed down. A pair of sheriffs looked at her with raised eyebrows. She waved weakly. They did nothing. The safe place, as it turned out, was Iris's home. She stumbled into her storage room and pulled out a bloodstained red tarp and sat herself down on it. She fumbled at one of the arrows. "Is it a bodkin or a hunter's point?"

Vaska was out of breath. Her suit was as ruined as her confident demeanor: big slashes and heaps of mud. She smarted as she lowered herself onto the tarp next to Iris. "You really want me to rip it out and see? I could tear up your insides if it's a hunter's point. Which it probably is, if the Silverbears normally fight werewolves."

"They won't stop burning." Iris whispered.

After some torn-up consideration, Vaska sighed and put one of her hands flat against the impact point of the first arrow. When she tried to lift her other arm, she audibly struggled. "Gngh. That-- that metal foothold on the crossbow. Right on my arm. I can't--" The shoulder on that same side had an embedded bolt, as well. "What do we do?"

Tears dripped down Iris's face. She gasped. "Just rip it out. I'm not going to survive those damn things if it stays in."

Gritting her teeth, Vaska took her bad shoulder and braced it against Iris' body. With that as a counterweight, she grabbed the arrow by the base of the shaft and pulled as hard as she could. When it didn't budge, she resorted to twisting in an attempt to find a better exit point for the blade at the end.

Iris screamed. Darkness swirled in her eyes as the pain overcame rational thought. She slumped to the floor.
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Vaska
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Vaska startled awake at the sound of screeching bats exiting through a hole in the mansion's ceiling. Her surroundings were devoid of color except for streams of red smoke slowly swirling past her. They revealed the occasional half-congealed claw, tooth, ear, or eye.

"Did the operation work?" she blurted out to the demon spirits.

"Look at yourself!" Voices overlapped. "You have a lot of nerve to show your face in this house looking like that."

Vaska wasn't in the mood to sit and take their chiding. She got up, careful to avoid bumping the arm she'd hastily splinted, and went for the door.

"You have failed to bring back a single survivor. Remember that if you're not useful to us, we'll be rid of you and your filthy clan for good."

She pushed the door open, letting out a rush of demon spirits with her. Inside the little room, a badly warped impression of an elder Sykora was burned into the red mist. He had bifurcated cat's ears; long, twisting horns; and a pair of spectacles coupled with a gentlemanly air. The man unmistakable as Koert Sykora was standing next to one of the beds Vaska had restored. On that bed was her real target, Iris.

"A fascinating specimen," Koert mused. "One of your contractors, I assume. She survived surgery by a hair's breadth."

"Thank you, Master Koert." Vaska bowed as low as she could from the waist.
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Iris's eyes fluttered open to a tattered canopy bed. A musty ceiling above that. She turned to look at the conversation in the room and waved at Vaska. "If I'm on my back, the arrows must be out, right?" She groaned. "Dammit, they got me good. Real good. I wanna try them again. How long till I can [removed] em up, ghosty doctorghost?"

Vaska, who was standing in the background, looked relieved to see the hasenka awake. "The Shadow Plane won't take you back yet." She gestured toward the blood-red ghost whose form flickered in an invisible wind. "This is Doktor Koert Sykora. I managed to hail a transport vehicle to bring the both of us back here, seeing as my carriage and horse was destroyed."

"It appears that your impending death was enough to cause my consciousness to reform," Koert said. "How are you feeling, miss?"

She listened. "I'm happy I made you remember how to be a good person, Kurt Sykora." Iris rose slightly from the bed. She glanced down. "My clothing!?"

"Consciousness, not conscience," Vaska gently interjected. "Wait there. I'll bring you some clothing."

Iris stared glumly at Koert. "I didn't want to flash miss Vaska. But I feel like I'll get better, doc. Just a lot of pain."

"Oh, don't worry about her," Koert said cheerfully. "Those matters are nothing. She's the lowest of the low, nothing more than a caretaker even for her fellow vampires. She has helped countless Sykoras into their clothing."

The hasenka became the sentient embodiment of a beet. "I'm not a Sykora! You fancypants folk don't mind it with your bits in the wind!" Iris sunk beneath the covers until only her eyes were visible. "Sorry. A bit of childhood shame."

Vaska returned with some folded clothing matching Iris' old style -- and an addition -- all tucked under her uninjured arm. "I hope the suit is more to your liking. Would you like any help getting dressed?" Koert bowed out, indicating that they should call for him should they need him.

"Uh, no, no, I'll dress myself." Iris shooed Vaska and then looked at the suit she had left behind. She laboriously got on the undergarments, pulled the pants up and then went to work on the white shirt and black coat. By the end, she was left with a tie. "A tie?" Iris looked at the door. "Ey, Vaska, can you help me get this on?"

In a whirl of movement, the tie was immaculately looped, centered and tightened. Vaska pulled away and looked at Iris with a big grin. "Watch out. You look so dapper the Sykoras might hire you." The half-vampire herself was, unusually, still covered in mud and blood, and her outfit dangled over her in ruined layers.

Iris blushed at the sudden activity. "You need to get changed. Or I'll scrub you myself...?" It would have been a viable threat against Iris. "Really, no need to keep that messy stuff on."

Vaska waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Iris. "I'll be nice and not call your bluff. You're right, though. If you'd rather not stick around in a place like this, I can set you up in the Lakatos artificial cave. There are many, many open rooms to choose from for the night."

"Um. The mansion is okay. But if you want me to go into the hole, I can go in the hole." Iris followed along once more. Midway she unbuttoned her suit jacket for more comfort and took a quick glance at herself in the mirror. She smiled a little bit and sneaked a second one. "I look pretty good! Now I just need to do up my hair!" Iris grabbed a bundle of her voluminous hair. "Whaddya think. Layer it, add some waves so I look like a fancy-pants Cascadian models like the ones Sophie Marne brought to the city a few days ago?"

"It is a much nicer hole than this--...this."

Vaska glanced over at Iris on the way there, pausing with her image in the mirror behind the hasenka. "I can do that, I suppose. Never thought you'd be interested in things like that."

"I thought I should complete the look when I have the chance. The reason I have so many cheap shirts is cuz I keep getting stabbed." Iris nodded as though it was a normal, day-to-day activity. "Could you imagine Serah's face? I bet she'd be jealous if she saw how nice I looked." Iris nodded once more. "But you know, maybe she's with the Silverbears because she likes running around with a little posse of fighters? Maybe you gotta form Sykora Securities or something so she'd be able to have that sort of group on the up and up."

Vaska gave Iris a sympathetic smile. "Yeah... I guess. That might work."

Iris shrugged. "I thought it was a good enough idea? I dunno what sort of business you and the Sykoras are up to. Probably something complex. Loans? Arms dealing? Puggle sales?"
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"The Sykoras have their fingers in almost every pie in Balefire. Name an industry in the city and I can probably name a Sykora who has at least dabbled in it. It's very, very old money, and the family just tries to have as much influence in the city as it can." At the edge of the courtyard, Vaska opened up one half of a two-door hatch, revealing a dark staircase. "After you, madam," she said, gesturing with her forearm.

The Lakatos Maternity Colony was etched out of slate-grey stone just as colorless as the rest of the Sykora Mansion's remnants. Rather than looking like a natural cave, the corridors were squared off and rooms were excavated at regular geometric intervals. Various carvings depicted milestones in Sykora history, with few to no depictions of the vampires who served them.

"Samotaric vampires tend to have different cultures based on gender. The women live in large communal groups and the men wander around on their own or in small bands. This area used to be full of women. I bet you would have liked it!" Vaska tossed Iris a wink, just to make good-natured fun of her.

"Full of women? You sound a bit like a nature guide-person when you talk about your vamps. Do you really feel like one of em?" Iris asked.

Vaska stared forward, her grin faltering. "I was one of them. I really was." By her tone it didn't sound like she believed her own words. "Just, because of certain circumstances that were out of my control, I happened to... not really have the potential to be some hard-bitten matriarch, you know? I was a caretaker. Not allowed to reproduce, but I could help in a lot of other ways."

"You can be more honest with me, I'm not much of a schemer." Iris chirped.

The conversation was interrupted by their arrival. Vaska pushed open the door to her room which, as she's said before, was even sparser than Iris' apartment. There was a small mieysce instead of a fireplace, plus a bed and a cold-chest full of blood. Then her essentials, like clothing: nearly identical suits and related accessories all hanging up on racks. "All of the other rooms are vacant. There aren't any more Lakatos here. They all left when the Sykoras started murdering each other."

"...Murdering each other?" Iris frowned. "That doesn't sound like much fun. You don't murder family." Iris picked around the rooms then returned to Vaska's. "I'd prefer to sleep in the same room as yours. This...reminds me of a dead dwarven city. I don't want to be alone here."

"Yeah, I really can't blame you." Vaska made a sad smile. "The Sykoras, according to their spirits like the one you met earlier, were overcome with bloodlust because of a curse from one of their enemies. It's part of my mission to find out what happened, who did it, and punish the culprits." She pulled out a couple extra blankets.
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Iris promptly nested into the blankets, her tail roving in a lazy circle above her. "Sykora stuff is interesting, but I want to hear about you. What's with you? Why did they leave you behind?"

Vaska lit the mieysce and sat rubbing her hands together. After a pause for consideration, she chuckled dryly. "You've known from the start that something was up, huh?"

Iris nodded. "You kept talkin' about it, I just listened to what you were saying. Nothin' special."

The vampire ran her fingers through her hair. "I guess you're right. No use hiding it with you. And it's not like there's anyone else in this ghost town to overhear." Taking a deep breath through her nose, Vaska closed her fists and steeled herself -- then chuckled again. "Sorry. I've never told anyone before, so I'm really nervous."

Another few beats passed before she got on with it. "My appearance is almost always altered by magic -- mostly to hide one telling thing." Vaska opened her palm, revealing that they were crawling with thin lines of mana. She ran her fingers through her hair again. When she pulled her hand away, two triangular ears had appeared on the top of her head. Her pupils became slitted. The ears, formerly pinned back, stood on end to reveal that they were feline and lightly tufted. A pair of tiny horns just barely poked out of her hair near the front.

"I'm just half-vampire. The other half is demon. Sykora, specifically."

Iris pointed at the ears. "Heeeyyyyy!" She giggled. "Those are quality pieces. Don't hide em', I can't hide mine!" Iris's ears twitched. Her tail jabbed at the ears as well. "Hybrids are way better than purebloods, right?"

Vaska's lips pulled into a smile and she made another hollow-sounding chuckle. "No. Not at all. That was... I guess I should have expected that reaction. But I can't keep them out all the time. If the Sykoras found out, they'd kill me, I think. "

"One of em' [removed]ed your parent and so they'd kill you for it? Damn, I think you've got 'mom is a creepy eyeless worse-than-a-demon who ruins lives' solidly beat." Iris cooed. She reached out and stroked one of Vaska's ears. "Yup, yup, that's ear fur."

"I don't know if they would, but either way, they haven't been too happy with me lately so I'd rather stay sa--" Her voice cut out when Iris touched her ear. The cat ear folded, twitching, and Vaska squinted on that side as her cheeks flushed bright red. "I-- I don't have a bad life. Just didn't get dealt the greatest hand. Kind of like you, is all."

"Oh, sure, the hand I got dealt is pretty shitty but now I'm sitting pretty on a royal flush like one of them, uh, agents of the ethereal. Right." Iris paused. "Hactually, do they all have luck manipulation powers? The one I met thrashed me in a game of cards." She shrugged. "Oh, right, inspiring words. Uh, the ears are cute? I always liked em'. Thought they were my good asset."

Palm against her face to shield her tired laughter, Vaska rested her head on Iris' blanketed side. "I'm pretty sure they all do, Iris."

Iris blushed when Vaska laid her head on her side, but decided to play it cool. "Oh, damn, my suit is going to get wrinkly." Pause. That wasn't playing it cool. "Uh. well you know I was thinking those agents had specialties, that'd be cool right? Titles? Like one would be Lady Luck and the other would be the Thief of Eyes, and then there could be Reaper Bjorn. If, one was a Rejevi. You know."

"Sounds like a great ragtag group of villains. Assuming we're the heroes in this story. Not that I much believe in heroes."

"Heroes? They have to exist." Iris nodded. Her suit was going to get wrinkled. "You got bad folk on one side, good folk on the other, then there's badass anti-heroes in the middle. Evil always gets outnumbered in the end, so it all works out, right?" The suit jacket came off and was delicately laid out away from the pair.

"Now you're just spouting storybook nonsense. This is the real world." Vaska pulled away to adjust the runes around the mieysce, then started preparing for bed."For now, let's get some sleep. Then tomorrow... I really don't know how we're going to do this. I might need to just tell the Sykoras that Serah is unwilling, and see what they decide from there."

"Naw, if you've got a big ol' conglomerate I'm sure there's a place for someone like her. Just gotta think...and wreck her gang, right?" Iris purred. As the lights dimmed, she quickly removed and folded her suit then curled back up into the blankets to rest for the night. It had been quite an adventure these past few days.
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