Lómëdor, a place of hustle and bustle, buying and entertaining, eating and selling. People brushed by the vampire, hardly taking notice of the cloaked figure as he moved through the streets. Once the sun was absent and replaced by the full moon, Daiki pulled the hood of his cloak down, white hair now free to blow slightly in the soft breeze. Red eyes scanned the still busy streets, searching for something... edible. Unfortunately, hardly an animal was present, and the thought of tricking one of the innocent humans into a dark ally with no witnesses; it was tempting, but sickening. He had vowed not to take human blood, as if he took too much, they would change... and no one deserved this life. Always thirsty, always considered evil... luckily, no one had yet discovered his secret - the lie of saying his eyes were sensitive to light had been enough to get by.

'Perhaps I should just accept it and retreat to the shadows...' The thought had crossed his mind more than once, and each time he had pushed it away. Sure, Sieg would love that almost as much as he would love the white haired vampire striking out at every human he saw. Still, that was the main thing that kept him from the shadows; he would not end up like the maniac locked in his mind. It remained a mystery to him, how the evil soul had even ended up in his mind; possibly a spell or something that was able to trap a life force inside of someone else, but who knew? All that was known was that the presence of the bloodthirsty maniac was never absent from his mind for long.

'C'mon, you're thirsty... I can feel it. Just one, no one will notice with all of the people passing by...'

'Shut up. I don't feel like getting into it with you again.' With that Daiki slammed up another mental wall, drowning out the voice and laughter of the demented soul. Still, it was true what he had said; he was thirsty, the hunger ripped and tore at him like a ravaged wolf. Eventually, he came across a nicer looking pub than some of the others around... perhaps he could...

Entering the inn, the vampire looked around as the scent of the humans flared through his nostrils, more powerful with this small amount of people than with the hundreds outside because of the building, it held the scent, where as outside the wind dragged it away. Still, he held out as he picked a small table and sat down and waited for someone to come to get his order. Eventually, a young waitress came over looking exhausted, as if her shift should have been over hours ago.

"I'll have a steak... rare please."

Jotting it down, the woman disappeared to the back of the pub where orders were taken. Hopefully it would arrive soon, the scent of others began to become awfully tempting. 'This is what I get for not hunting for a week...' He scolded himself as he waited for his food to arrive. Hopefully they took 'rare' seriously around here.

Mariko walked down one of the busy streets of Lómëdor. She was amazed at the amount of people who were actually wandering around at night. It made her somewhat uneasy. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and pressed her wings closer to her back. She didn't want to take any chances in such a busy city, but she was hungry and need to find more supplies. She was just glad it was dark.

She neared a pub and could smell food cooking. Her stomach gave a loud groan and she looked at the building longingly. She pulled out a some money. There wasn't much. She sighed, but entered the inn anyway. There were not too many people inside and she was glad of that. She looked around for a table, and picked one in the corner near a table with a boy who looked about her age, maybe a little older.

She sat down and waited for someone to take her order. She pulled her hood down revealing her long black hair. She pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders and watched the other people in the room.

As the wait for food grew longer and the thirst grew stringer, it wasn't surprising that Daiki's eyes were swirling a bright blood red. He felt his teeth rip slightly into his bottom lip, and soon he thought he might just explode and... oh god, he shouldn't have come in here. He glanced around at the innocent faces of people surrounding him, most of them smiling as they watched the entertainment provided. He grimaced at the thought of losing control here; he couldn't, he had to do something --

His train of thought was cut short at the entrance of a young girl. As she lowered the hood of her cloak, the white haired vampire could have sworn someone had shoved a knife through his chest that connected with his heart. For just one moment, just a split second, the only thing that ran through his mind was Izumi. There was no way, just no way! He had left her and her brother, he had left them and not said anything about where he was going, he had to... they would never accept him if it had been any other way. His best friend... and the girl he loved. Soon though, the obvious differences could be noted. Just a second before her long black hair now showed hints of brown, a brunette. Then her eyes... Izumi's that had been a crystal blue, this girls were green and red. Her skin, which had before seemed as pale as Izumi's, now showed a tinted gray.

How he had even got Izumi's image connected with this girl's, he wasn't sure... until he saw the hardly noticeable shape that showed slightly in the back of her cloak. Any normal person probably wouldn't have even seen, but Daiki was used to these things. Perhaps he was wrong and just an idiot, but if he was right, those were wings. Now that he thought about it, he imagined the two girls side by side, backs to him. What he imagined was enough to have him grip at the leg of the table and start squeezing. The girls gray skin was close enough to the white paleness of Izumi's, and though the girl's hair showed a slight hint of brown, it was still dark enough to be mistaken for black from a distance. Then the wings... gah, the wings. Something that had always taken his breath whenever he saw Uonatchi's or Izumi's.

As he became lost in his thoughts, the girl had sat down out of his sight, the table next to him but behind him. Still, he pictured Izumi now, and the pain and heartbreak was enough to numb his entire body so that he didn't notice until it was too late how tightly he had been gripping the table leg. The loud crack woke him from his trance, and felt the splintered wood beneath his palm. The table, losing one of it's four supporters, teetered and crashed to the ground. Perhaps it was a good thing his food hasn't come yet, as it would have most undoubtedly spilled across the floor. He quickly stumbled forward to set the table upright, drawing his long sword from it's sheath to substitute the snapped leg.

Looking up, he noticed the waitress had arrived and had apparently witnessed the charade from the kitchen as she was wearing a slight smile as she handed him his meal. He sighed and took the steak, and finally a bright spot was seen. Obviously, they did take rare seriously. Only slightly brown in some spots, it was heavy with the color pink, a bit of blood still visible on the outside. A slight smile spread across his face as he tried to look somewhat normal to the eyes that were still cast upon him for previous actions. Taking up knife and fork, he started eating, allowing his fangs to let loose as he chewed on the steak, blood freshening his mood. By the time he had finished (rather quickly) his eyes had dulled from red to gray as the blood thirst was now gone.

However, now that he no longer had his thirst to tame, his mind was free to wander back to previous subjects. He eventually allowed him self to turn, just a bit, to see the girl again. True, she looked nothing like Izumi, but still a similarity seemed to burn within the facial features. After a moment he quickly turned away, waiting for the waitress to come back. If she hadn't caught the glance he'd taken, he was safe. If she had... well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

The long deceased spirit of the man named Friedrich Lester moved through the crowd of patrons inhabiting Wilwarin Inn; literally. As a ghost, Lester was able to simply walk through the various peasants, traders, waitresses and drunkards without a care in the world; a side-effect was that each individual he floated through felt a sudden chill run down their spine and was unwittingly subjected to some bout of clumsiness as a result of being caught off-guard. More than half of the waitresses' mistakes in dropping flagons and tankards were related to Lester's ghost passing about as he pleased. Of course, to avoid unnecessary complications, Lester chose to spend most of time completely invisible, which only served to add to the confusion but, since it didn't directly affect him, the ghost had little to concern himself with.

As a former spymaster, and now dead with nothing better to do, Lester was accustomed to the habit of scanning the inhabitants of any room he passed through, looking for anything suspicious, or simply interesting. Anything to keep him occupied in his eternal existence. His initial gaze was drawn to the cloaked figure who sat down at a table and ordered rare steak from a waitress who had only moments before been mopping up the mess caused by a merchant spilling his rum everywhere after Lester had taken a trip straight through his torso. At first, Lester could not tell what had drawn him to the man, until he caught sight of his eyes; bloodshot red they were, and it was this detail alone that revealed his identity to the ghost. A vampire. A vampire in Wilwarin Inn. Hardly a first, but still worth Lester's curiosity.

Floating, still invisible, across the room to land silently opposite the vampire's seat, on the other side of the table, Lester watched him curiously, a frown passing over his invisible face. Within minutes the man had managed to break off one of the table legs, apparently lost in some day dream, and the former spymaster had his curiosity touched a second time. He remained, silent and invisible, sat opposite the man when his meat arrived, and the ascertation of his race was confirmed when his eyes faded in colour when the meat, noticeably rare, was ravagely consumed by him. With the threat of a blood rage quelled, Lester considered simply moving on to find something else to entertain him, but since a quick glance around the inn gave him no other option, the ghost decided to hang around at his current table a little longer.

In an instant Lester materialised in a blue-tinted transparent form of his former living self, sat opposite the feasting vampire, and with a forced smile on his features. The materialisation was almost silent, with the exception of a loud crack at the very end, when the final tips of his fingers and nose formed. Tilting his head to the side slightly so that he was giving the vampire a half-curious, and half-disapproving, stare, Lester asked of him in his slightly patronising way,

"What brings a vampire to this establishment?"

Mariko sat there waiting for the waitress to come and take her order. She rested her head on her left hand and tapped her foot impatiently. She looked around at all the people within the pub, mostly out of boredom. Most, if not all, were human men who had probably come in from working all day somewhere in the city. Every once in a while someone would spill their rum or drop their food before looking around in surprise. Even the waitresses seemed to fall under the strange phenomenon. Mariko just rolled her eyes at their clumsiness.

Suddenly, a load crack sounded through the pub. Mariko jumped at the unexpected sound. She looked around for the source and found that it was caused by the white haired boy in a near-by table. He had broken one of the legs off his table and quickly replaced it with his sword. Mariko rolled her eyes at the idiocy and went back to waiting for service. It wasn't much longer before a waitress finally arrived.

"I'll just have some bread and a drink," she said with a sigh.

She couldn't afford much else. The waitress came back quickly, probably because the order was so simple. Mariko stared at the food before grabbing the small loaf of bread. She bit into it with her sharp teeth, but when she tried to swallow another crack rang through the pub. She began coughing and quickly grabbed for her drink. The crack had been different that the first, and she scanned the pub for something that wasn't there before.

Her eyes stopped once again at the table where the white haired boy was sitting. A man had suddenly appeared across from the boy. He was no doubt a ghost. Mariko rolled her eyes and went back to eating, but she kept an ear out for what they were talking about.

((OOC: Sorry for lateness, was going to post yesterday but I was only on for about three minutes when the computer just died on me, and didn't start working until I got back from school today. Also sorry for shortness, being rushed.))

"What brings a vampire to this establishment?"

The loud crack that had rung through the inn shortly after the one he had caused left the white haired vampire staring into the transparent eyes of a spirit; a spirit who knew his secret. The urge to fling himself across the table at the spirit grew, though he knew it would do no good; probably just have him end up looking like a crazy person with a headache after slamming into the ground. All worries and the pain of remembering Izumi's face were gone from his mind for the time being, his main focus being making sure his secret wasn't discovered. He had worked too hard to make sure that no one found out what he truly was for it all to crumble in one night.

"Please... keep your voice down. What will it take to keep you quiet?"

His voice was hushed, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, there was a pleading gleam in his eyes. If people were to find out what he was, what he had never wanted to become in the first place; who knew what would happen. He would surely be hated by all friends, despised by all people he had won the respect of. He wouldn't blame them, either; he hated the darkness as much as them, if not more. It was the very darkness that tainted the blood that ran through his veins that made him tempted to take peoples lives. He had been fighting it for a little over a century, but the people around him wouldn't understand. He had been able to walk among them, listen to what they thought about his people. They each had the same opinion - that vampires were creatures of the dark that cared nothing for other and only for blood and killing. There was no way he could avoid that reputation should this ghost spill his guts... wait...

((OOC: No problem :) ))

Lester looked at the man, the vampire, as he hurriedly asked him to keep his voice down. The ghost tilted his head slightly; the reaction was to be expected, he supposed, though he didn't care for the man, no, the vampire's pleading tone. Still, he didn't have any need to reveal the secret to the denizens of the Wilwarin Inn of all people, so he nodded slowly to reassure him that he wasn't going to tell anyone; at least not straight away. His mind, if one was allowed to call it that when one was dead, began racing, though he kept his face as blank as possible, trying to think up of anything and everything that he could demand of the vampire in order to keep his silence; if Lester was honest, which he almost always was in the most blunt way possible, he was actually a little surprised that the being opposite him hadn't denied the truth at first.

Alas, typical of his life, Lester's mind went blank when it came to things he could want from the vampire; after all, when one is dead one only seeks life, and he doubted that this vampire could grant him that. No-one could, except perhaps the gods, but as Lester was skeptical of religious practices at best and entirely dismissive at worst, that path had not been open to him when his time had come. Discarding the thought of the vampire's offer of what could have been a nice bit of subjective blackmail, Lester waved a ghostly hand very briefly before saying,

"You don't have to worry about people hearing anything from me, vampire," he used the term rather icily, having encountered more savage vampires in his living days, "I am about as welcome here as you are. This establishment's patrons," he gave a short nod in the direction of the drunken parties dispersed throughout the pub, "trust ghosts as much as they do vampires. If they weren't so transfixed on the two fighting cockerels in the corner, I'd daresay they would have already spotted me and proceeded to destroy my soul with a short drop of holy water."

This last sentence was said with the heavy sarcasm Lester had grown accustomed to using in most conversations with people; however there was some truth in what he had said. Despite haunting the Wilwarin whenever he felt the need to glide into Lomedor, its patrons were indeed some of the most fearful people he had ever encountered, both living and dead. The first time the cook had caught Lester floating through the kitchen, he had proceeded to hack at his spiritual form with a meat cleaver for a solid hour before giving up and accepting he could not harm the ghost.

"All I wish to know," Lester continued, showing no concern for the volume of his voice, as he was quite confident everyone else was fixated on the cockerel fight, "Is what you are doing here. You've ordered meat, rare of course, so you don't seem to be intent upon....feasting elsewhere. A curious little oddity for a vampire."

Mariko had stopped eating. She had not finished, but the conversation, even with how short it was, had caught her interest even more now. The vampire’s words still echoed through her mind. He was desperate to keep his identity a secret. She was the same way. They were the same. They both were afraid of being found out. From the sounds of things he was more interested in eating an animal than a human. This made him stand out among the vampires she had met on her trip to the Underworld.

She could recall, clearly, all those she had met down there. Most, if not all, of the vampires had accused her of being human. It took a lot of convincing before they finally believed her. Even her bat-like wings weren't enough for some of them at first. She shivered at the thought of how close she had come to becoming a member of their undead horde.

But now, she had come into contact with another vampire. He was probably an outcast from the rest of his race. It was the first time in her life she felt a connection to anyone. It was a strange feeling, and she liked it. The only problem now was what to do now that she knew. She wanted talk to him, but there was something stopping her, but what that thing was she didn’t know. After several moments of just sitting there, she took a deep breath and once again scaned the room. A fight had broken out in the far corner, and everyone’s attention seemed on it. If she was ever going to talk to him, this was the time.

Mariko finished the rest of her meal. With a big sigh, she stood up, but for a few seconds she just stood there. She was watching the white haired vampire out of the corner of her eye. What would she say to him? What would he think of her? What if she was wrong about him? Her thoughts swirled and battered her mind like a storm.

No, I have to take this chance, or I’ll never know, she thought.

Her mind relaxed a little as she decided. She placed some money on the table for the food and pushed her chair in. She took another deep breath and walked over to the table confidently. The confidence was an act of course, but she played it well. When she got to the table, she pulled a chair right next to the white haired boy and sat down close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

“You’re a vampire?” she asked in a calm somewhat dark voice filled with curiosity. She spoke in a low tone. She didn’t think anyone would hear, but chances would not be taken. If he was found out, it was only a matter of time before she was as well.

Daiki grimaced at the tone of voice that the spirit used when referring to his race, the words dripped with hostility and coldness. He supposed he should be used to it, as he had heard it from almost everyone who had talked about the subject with him over the years... but that was different. Then they had been putting down the race as a whole, as he did as well; but this ghost was using it more as a way to put him down for what he was, it seemed. His fingers twitched a bit, but soon relaxed as he took in the fact that the spirit wasn't going to tell anyone of his secret, the fact that he would probably be chased out as well. Relief surged through him, and he felt a grin creep onto his face.

"All I wish to know, is what you are doing here. You've ordered meat, rare of course, so you don't seem to be intent upon... feasting elsewhere. A curious little oddity for a vampire."

Hmm, this was an interesting question, one that was actually rather obvious in all reality. Non the less, it was one he wasn't used to answering. No one had discovered his secret since, well... Uonatchi and Izumi, who were vampires themselves who also shared his devotion to being a... well... "vegetarian" vampire. Their little inside joke, actually; drinking the blood of animals rather than people. He opened his mouth to give an answer, but the words that followed did not belong to him.

“You’re a vampire?”

The world froze for a split second, and he could see what had happened. The girl that had sent him into a trance like state before had taken a seat next to him, her shoulder nearly brushing his. The words he had about to say evaporated from his mind, leaving him sitting there with his mouth hanging open slightly. No doubt, he looked like a complete idiot, but it took him a few minutes to realize what he had been doing - nothing but shifting his eyes between the spirit and the girl that brought up so many memories that seemed to rip at his heart. The vampire quickly snapped his mouth shut, and found himself at a lose for words. What was he supposed to say now? Prying his mind away from the past memories of Izumi, he tried to focus on what was going on at that moment.

The girl had heard them, obviously. Well, that was just perfect; no doubt she would go off running. Wait, she was still sitting there. Umm... tell everyone his secret? Probably. He forced himself to look the girl in the eyes, and suddenly realized why he had thought of her as Izumi when the colors didn't match at all. The overall structure and features of their faces were near exactly the same... the only thing that didn't match were the colors. God, this would be difficult. He opened his mouth, but thankfully this time something came out.

"Uh, yes. I am a vampire... but I'm not exactly like others, honest!" He turned to face the spirit that had asked the question previous to the girls arrival and continued. "As for your question, I'm not like others of my kind. I don't drink human blood, but rather animals. Since I couldn't find any animals, even a small squirrel with all these people around, I guess coming in here was the second best place."

The vampire's reply to Lester's question was cut off by the appearance of some random girl at their table; well, Lester now thought of it as their table even though really it was still just the vampire's. Either way, the girl's words were far more surprising than her sudden appearance.

"You're a vampire?"

The words instantly brought a slight smirk to Lester's face, one which he quickly replaced with a look of insincere and mocking surprise. Covering his hand over his mouth and widening his eyes in true overdramatic mock-shock, the ghost stared blankly at the vampire for a few seconds as he fumbled over a response for the girl, taking his hand away from his mouth long enough to mutter a sarcastic little comment,

"Oh my, was I speaking too loud? How careless."

The girl, who had by now drawn up a seat and sat down next to them both, was given a vague reply by the vampire; one concerning how he was different to the others of his kind. A sentiment that Lester was not willing to share. The vampire also addressed Lester's original question, expanding on his previous further by claiming he only fed on the blood of animals, never human. Once again, Lester found this hard to believe, and said so.

"A vampire who only feeds on animals? This is the real world, not some fantasy."

He was not a polite person, Friedrich Lester. In fact, he was very much the epitome of a grumpy ghost; someone who finds such distaste with their spiritual form that they often vent it out on others, particularly the living. Of course, the fact that he would have been acting the exact same way in such circumstance if he had been alive did not help the matter. He turned is gaze briefly towards the girl before saying,

"No vampire is different to another, you should know. They're all of..." his stare returned to the vampire opposite him, "...questionable morals when it comes to feasting on the living."

Mariko smiled at the vampires obvious answer to her question. She had guessed he was different. That was the whole reason she had come to speak to him, something that was out of her character. As the boy went on to answer a question the ghost had asked before she arrived, Mariko looked down at the stake the vampire had ordered. The teethmarks were obviously those of a vampire, there was no doubt in Mariko's mind that the white haired vampire was telling the truth.

She smiled even wider at the thought of finding someone similar to her. Although this boy was full vampire and she was only half demon, they were both outcasts. Of course the vampire chose to be an outcast by not preying on humans, but he was still different and that was good enough for her. Maybe she had finally found someone who could understand what she was living through. Maybe....

But her thoughts were shattered by the ghost's reply to the vampires answer. She had completely forgotten that the being was there. She turned her head and glared at the transparent figure as he continued his ridicule of the vampire and his entire race.

"No vampire is different to another, you should know. They're all of...questionable morals when it comes to feasting on the living."

Mariko was completely disgusted by the whole thing. She just stared angrily at the soul, and she didn't bother to hide in either. She had heard people say these things about demons before. She recalled people talking behind her back about how she was no different then them. To people it seemed that anything related to the dark had no feelings, no hearts. She knew just how hurtful such things could be.

"You shouldn't judge a person by there race," she said almost before thinking. She paused when she realized how defensive her voice sounded and tried to cover up her reaction. She closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and turned her head away from the two. "I mean you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover and all that, right? I've never actually sat down and talked with a vampire or anything, but they can't all be bad people, can they?"

She was babbling...

"Oh my, was I speaking too loud? How careless."

The vampire felt his lips start to pull backward at the comment, but quickly attempted to calm himself when he realized it. The issue that he had been speaking loud enough for someone to hear was of little concern now; the fact that he could have dismissed it and gone on without further thought to it was the thing that annoyed the white haired boy. The way he insisted on acting... it became irritating. He bit down on the inside of his lip to keep him self from reaching forward to slap the false expression off his face... well, that probably wouldn't work since he would probably end up going right through him or something.

"A vampire who only feeds on animals? This is the real world, not some fantasy. No vampire is different to another, you should know. They're all of... questionable morals when it comes to feasting on the living."

A sigh escaped the vampires lips; an expected response. Typical. One who's mind was too dim to see past the fact that not everyone is the same. That would be like saying that the spirit before them was no different than a poltergeist. He closed his eyes, brow pulling together in frustration. Maybe he was trying to become something he would never be, and end up being just as everyone thinks of his race. These thoughts ran through his head, and when he opened his eyes to answer, he was met with the girl that reminded him of ... her confronting the spirit.

"You shouldn't judge a person by there race, I mean you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover and all that, right? I've never actually sat down and talked with a vampire or anything, but they can't all be bad people, can they?"

Daiki looked at the girl with a slightly shocked expression, surprised she had said anything on his behalf. He had half expected her to go running to tell everyone when he had confirmed his identity, but she stood there... defending him? Memories of the girls wings floated back to his mind... a half demon? Was she was also shunned form both her darker race and the humans, or she was just toying with him? Hopefully it was the former, as that would save him a lot of heart ache. Thinking about her words, the white haired vampire was finally able to get a sentence out.

"I appreciate your words on my behalf, but I'm afraid our floating friend here has a point. I've only come across two other vampires that share my beliefs, while the rest of my race have no morals or consideration for anyone or anything other than getting their blood fix."

Despite his beliefs that people could be different then what they were, nearly everyone of his race has proved him wrong, and so there was no lying in what he had said... though he wished desperately that there was. The only people he had ever felt welcome with entirely and openly were Uonatchi and Izumi, and he had to leave them. Perhaps if he could find someone that chose not to be one of those leeches then he would feel that openness once again, but until then he would have to live off a lie, with the occasional tale of truth as he was telling to these here, though those would be the occasions he would be most prone to being attacked and killed. It was strange, he thought, how often he was at more risk of being attacked than someone who had chosen the darker, easier path. Most likely because they kept to the shadows as often as possible when he tried to blend in and hide his identity day and night. Perhaps that of a killer would indeed be the better way to go... though he knew he would never bring himself to do it.

"You shouldn't judge a person by their race, I mean you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover and all that, right? I've never actually sat down and talked with a vampire or anything, but they can't all be bad people, can they?"

"Vampires are not a race," Lester replied quickly, "They are a twisted form of other creatures. To be a vampire is to be diseased."

Though equally prejudiced against vampires and werewolves when alive, the fact that he was dead and therefore untouchable made Lester, and all men like him, utterly blunt about their opinions; if he had still been alive he would have made sure to keep the vampire out of danger's way before making such comments, but now he simply said them without a care in the world for the man sat opposite him.

"I appreciate your words on my behalf, but I'm afraid out floating friend here has a point. I've only come across two other vampires that share my beliefs, while the rest of my race have no morals or consideration for anyone or anything other than getting their blood fix.

This statement from the vampire surprised Lester a little, and he demonstrated this by moving eyes away from the girl and towards him, raising an eyebrow and keeping his face pointing in the direction of the white-haired girl that was now classed in simple terms in Lester's mind as 'an interference and a nuisance'; just another example of how the ghost, emotionally unattached to anything as he was, went about labeling and judging people based upon a combination of first impressions and his own assessments. The fact that the vampire had acknowledged the truth in his words, though, was something that sparked the deceased spymaster's curiosity. What was more, he had not failed to notice his description as a 'floating friend'.

He confesses his species' flaws? Lester thought to himself, Interesting.

"If you're so different to others of your type," he inquired, leaning forwards slightly though he had no physical need to, and with his scepticism rising alongside his curiosity, "Then how did that happen? How have you not succumbed to, as you put it, 'getting your blood fix'."

Giving the girl a passing glance, as if expecting her to say something, Lester continued to stare at the vampire with his criticising eyes, making it quite clear that he was not convinced; not that the vampire had to prove himself to Lester, for after all there was nothing the ghost could physically do about it, but nevertheless Lester wanted an answer.

"I appreciate your words on my behalf, but I'm afraid our floating friend here has a point. I've only come across two other vampires that share my beliefs, while the rest of my race have no morals or consideration for anyone or anything other than getting their blood fix."

Mariko sighed. This was most likely true. Her experiences had lead her to think the same about vampires, and, to her, both sides of her heritage were the same way. It was a said truth that she had to face as well, and it was never an easy thing. But the fact that he had found two like himself, made her feel a little more distant than she had at first.

"You're had more luck than I," she said under her breath. She had only found one person who would help her freely. But that person had not trusted her with even his name until a meeting that they had had after splitting ways. She hadn't felt close to Krad. There was always something about him that pushed her away, and she could never figure out what that was. She wondered if this boy, this vampire had been close to those two that he spoke of. If so, how close? They shared the same ideals. Why wouldn't he have been close to them.

Once again, Mariko was drawn from her thoughts by the words of their "floating friend."

"If you're so different to others of your type, then how did that happen? How have you not succumbed to, as you put it, 'getting your blood fix'?"

Mariko glared at the ghost, her temper almost at a boil. What right did he have to ask such a question? No one had to prove themselves to a human, especially a dead one. She wanted to reach out at the ghost. She wanted to hurt him. Yet she did not move. Her body was frozen. Perhaps she new deep down it would do no good, or maybe it was that she too wanted to know the answer to the question the transparent figure had thrown out. Either way, she did nothing but glare at the ghost.

All: As you're sitting at the bar talking, you hear heavy footsteps behind you. A group of ten men have gathered behind you at the bar, with six of them bearing swords. They all look like rough-and-tumble characters that know their way around a fight. Many of the other patrons begin clearing the pub in fear of the imminent conflict.

One of them steps forward. He twirls a shortsword in his hand, grinning menacingly. "We don't appreciate your kind here," he says. The men begin to make moves upon you. The four without swords grab chairs and tables and begin stacking them up against the exit; they are obviously not intent upon letting you leave. And, from the looks of their sharp steel, trying to negotiate isn't much of an option, either.

OOC to All: How unfortunate! Seems like you'll have to dispatch these troublemakers before they separate your heads from your shoulders. These men are not DM-Controlled; you may harm them and control their actions. You are outnumbered and outgunned; these men should not be easily defeated. You may now proceed with the topic and do not need to wait for me to post before continuing. I will pop in periodically as I see fit.

((OOC: Sorry, meant to post yesterday, but some family issues came up.))

"If you're so different to others of your type, then how did that happen? How have you not succumbed to, as you put it, 'getting your blood fix.'"

A question to be expected, of course. Still, something in the spirits critical gaze made the vampire's knuckle twitch. Oh, how many reasons there were for how he had ended up the way he did... but which was the ultimate reason? He could surely just pick one of the many, but no doubt the ghost wouldn't accept it unless it made total sense, and most of them tied in with other reasons... and there was no way he was going to sit there and spill his life story to someone who wouldn't accept what he was anyway. Searching for something to say, he found himself saved by a voice interrupting them... which soon turned out to be more of a nuisance than a savior.

"We don't appreciate your kind here."

Your kind? For all this guy knew, they could have been two completely normal people, with... a transparent dude... damn. Looking around, Daiki noticed for the first time the group of ten people that had entered the inn. Six held swords while the other four stacked odds and ends against the door, blocking them all in. After a moment, the white haired vampire realized... that they were everyone. Everyone else had probably retreated at first sight of the gang. Chickens. Daiki turned to the group, about to try to talk their way out of the situation, but from the way they prepared themselves with their swords... it didn't look like simple words would get them out of this.

A sigh escaped the boys lips, turning away from the gang to face the other two seated at the table. From his previous attitude, the vampire half expected the ghost to dematerialize right then and there to save himself... but the girl... how was she supposed to get out? Eye brows pulling together in a scowl, Daiki turned to face the group. They had started closing in, swords seeming more threatening at a closer distance; strange how weapons seemed to do that. Only a few moments were allowed for thought, but within a few seconds Daiki had one hand firmly holding the table, the other reaching beneath him to grip the handle of the sword that now held the table up right to pull it from where it rested. Pulling the table up so that it served as a small wall of sorts in front of the three, Daiki gripped harder at his sword as he glared at the group. Ten of them... one of him; not great odds. Still, they were just people, right? No doubt his enhanced strength and speed beat their greatly, but ten...

"Now, shall we make this more complicated then it really needs to be? You could simply let us pass, and no one gets hurt... or this turns ugly. The choice is yours."

The tension in the air was thick. There was a long pause that seemed to last forever, and Mariko could tell that the vampire was getting angry at the spirit. Still she sat there, waiting for what was going to come out of the white haired boy's mouth. She was disappointed when another voice rang over the pub, but that disappointment soon turned to dread as the half-demon realized exactly what was happening.

"We don't appreciate your kind here."

That's what the man said. The words echoed through her mind, and for a few moments she was frozen there. She did not even look at the thugs as they sealed off the door. She was in complete shock. She had not expected the sudden attack, and she could not figure out how it had happened. Several thoughts swam through her mind. Where they only speaking to the vampire? Maybe they had found out about her as well. But that hadn't happened, had it? She had been so careful not to get caught. She had tried so hard. Had she become careless while speaking to the vampire and ghost.

As the vampire moved, she was snapped out of her trance. She looked at the situation clearly for the first time. They were stuck and there was no way out. She had no time to be thinking about why they were being attacked. There was no way out, nowhere to run. They had no choice but to fight. The vampire had thrown the table up in a wall-like way and was now trying to "talk things out."

"Now, shall we make this more complicated then it really needs to be? You could simply let us pass, and no one gets hurt... or this turns ugly. The choice is yours."

A lot of good that would do. She had experiance with people like this. There was no way to stop the inevitable. He seemed to know this a little, but he shouldn't have to waist his breath on these people.

Mariko pulled her hand into her cloak and rested her hand on her katana. She waited, and soon an attack came. One of the men smashed the table and proceeded to attempt to chop the two into pieces. Mariko jumped out of the way. The edge of the thugs blade scratched her cheek, but she did not let it affect her and appeared not to notice. She pulled out her blade and swung at the attacker.

((I'm to lazy to continue on from there))

There was little doubt left in Lester's mind that the girl who had made herself at home at their table was giving him a sure-fit death glare. What he was saying clearly did not go down with her, but as she was young and therefore naturally emotive and sensitive to such topics, the ghost did not pay her much heed, and concentrated on the white-haired vampire, who seemed to be thinking up his response to Lester's continuingly prying questions. Even so, the girl's expression did nag at the ghost somewhat, though he managed to maintain his own features to not show this at all.

If looks could kill...., he thought, before correcting himself, Not that it would do much good. Still, she does have an awfully disconcerting glare to her.

His thought process was disturbed, at that point, by the arrival of the local thugs. Lester had seen them enter the Wilwarin on more than one occasion before during his nightly haunts, and as he glanced around quickly he saw that the other patrons had made the traditional pilgrimage straight out of the door and into the streets outside, aiming to warm themselves around another inn's fire. Any other inn's fire. Damning his own lack of observation at missing their approach until it was too late, Lester decided to make the best of the situation and maintain his dignity; something he had to admit was far easier for himself than it was for the other two at the table, namely to do with the fact that he was already dead and so could not be beaten to a bloody pulp. Still, he decided sarcastic comments and criticising statements would do little other than increase the danger for the vampire and the girl, so the ghost decided to keep it to a handy minimum. Leaning back into his chair, his decades of death giving him enough experience in simulating acting like a living person instead of flying straight through the furniture that he was able to pull this off convincingly, Lester looked up at the apparent leader of the thugs and said in his clipped, upper-class tone,

"Well, if it isn't the Tremendous Troll Troop. Why not draw up a chair instead of knocking them over?"

This defiant, if downright provocative, remark was met with a swift strike from a shortsword flying straight through Lester, and if he had been alive he would most certainly have been cleaved in two, from head to waist. Instead, he simply instinctively disappeared as the blade made 'contact', the strange smoky substance he appeared to made of dematerialising in the space of a second, apparently abandoning the white-haired vampire and the girl to their fates, as the men began their assault upon them. However, Lester had not totally left them to their own devices, but was instead simply dealing with the situation in the same way he would have when alive; presuming he hadn't been cloven in half from head to waist when still alive, in which case him doing what he was about to would have been most unlikely.

Reappearing a short distance from the men, who were now all focused upon the two remaining 'victims', Lester floated over to the bar itself and leaned over to see the barkeep crouching behind it, keeping his head down from the chaos that was now breaking out in his pub. Looking up and catching sight of the ghost staring down at him with a disapproving look, the barkeep jumped, startled, and fell onto his back. As Lester passed through the bar, still staring down at its' tender, the man began crawling back away from him, his eyes still on the spirit and full of shock and fear. Rolling his own eyes and showing no patience for the ridiculous reaction, Lester floated down to the same level as the barkeep and ordered in a demanding voice,

"Look, you silly man, I need you to do something."

The sounds of crashing could be heard from over the other side of the counter. The barkeep simply stared at Lester in a twisted form of shock and amazement. Lester did not wait for him to reply, and simply carried on with his demands,

"I want you to go into the back-room and bring out a ball of string and your strongest drink."

The barkeep looked at him with even wider eyes, prompting Lester to add in a hurried and tiresome voice,

"If-you-don't-I'll-curse-you-and-your-family-etc-etc-blah-blah-blah."

Within a few seconds the barkeep had hurried to his feet and rushed into the back room, as Lester floated upwards to his full height and stared back over the bar towards the clashing men, girls and vampires. If the two held out for a few minutes, Lester might just save their lives. Not that he had any real motive for doing so, but still, it helped him deal with his death-situation if he knew it was making some sort of impact on the world.

Daiki the Noble: The leader of the group is not in the least interested in talking. He laughs off your threat and takes a massive swing at you, and two of his friends join in. In one of their hands, you notice a large, wooden stake. That could cause some damage!

Mariko: Your blow is parried. Another man makes an advance upon you from behind while your blade is engaged. He thrusts, attempting to gore you. Another makes an advance upon you from the front. Better think fast.

Lester: One man hops over the bar and takes a swing at you. You notice that his blade is distinctly different from the others; it is a Spirit Blade, capable of hitting ethereal beings such as yourself. He also appears to be a very skilled swordsman. Seems like you'll have to do more than just float around this engagement.

All: The four previously unarmed men have finished barricading the door; it is quite impassable now, and you are trapped. The four of them produce Hunter's Daggers from their belts. Those could cause some serious damage to all three of you; better be careful.

OOC to Lester: The Spirit Blade carried by your attacker can be found in the Life Shop.

OOC to All: The Hunter's Daggers produced by the barricade-makers can be found in the Easter 2007 Giveaway topic. You may now proceed with the topic and do not need to wait for me to post again before continuing.

((OOC: Yeah-we're-all-gonna-die o.o Also, sorry for craptasticness, being rushed so it wasn't very... thought through >.>))

"Son of a..."

The vampire mumbled as the table was smashed in by one of the thugs who proceeded to charge at and assault the girl beside him, only managing to leave a mark on her cheek. The white haired boy found himself at the point of nearly snarling at the man, when suddenly one of the gang members laughed and took a massive swing at his head. Ducking, he watched as two other thugs ran over to reinforce him; like whimpering dogs running to the aide of a wolf. Huh, if this guy was the leader... then that might just work. Through years of commanding an army in his human life, one thing had been clear - without a leader, the army slowly falls apart. They needed someone to take charge, to be their main weapon. If that was true in the small minded brain patter of these low lives, then maybe he had a chance.

This train of thought took all of three seconds, and soon Daiki found himself facing the leader of the group, the two behind him sneering as the man reared his sword back in attempt to slice the vampire in half, it seemed. Raising his sword to block the attack, the boys mind seemed to be going through a million different plans at once. He pushed hard in the attackers direction, able to make him stumble backward into his two friends, allowing him to jump backwards to further the distance. The ghost had, of course, disappeared, so thinking of a way to work him in wahe gave the ts out of the question. Little did the boy know that the spirit hadn't left them, but how was he supposed to when he had three goons with a wooden stake blocking his view? Wait... wooden stake? Oh crap.

Cursing to himself, the vampire looked around frantically; there had to be something he could do. These guys obviously wouldn't be satisfied until they were all dead... well, re-dead... or whatever it was called when they died. The thugs had gotten themselves together after being knocked against each other and where now glaring at the boy, a hatred gleaming in their eyes. Why couldn't he go anywhere without a fight breaking out??

'I repeat - idiot. They may have power and skill, but do they have strategy?'

Sieg's voice was rushed and loud, almost commanding even though there was no order in the sentence. Well, maybe there was. As the trio closed the distance,leaving no room for the vampire to back up and procrastinate as he had been doing unconsciously, he took one last intake of his surroundings. Not far from where he stood, the girl was being attacked from both behind and in front, her katana held down by the sword of another man. Wheels turning in his mind, his train of thought was cut short by the glint of a blade that rushed toward him.

Damn, he had zoned out. attempting to doge the sword thrust at him, he escaped a fatal strike, but grimaced at the pain that surged through his shoulder as the blade connected with it. Biting down on his bottom lip to keep from grunting in pain, he glared at the man who seemed to take pride in his handy work as one of his minions handed him the stake, not bother to remove the sword that pinned the vampire's shoulder to the wall. Well, it's now or never.

As the group leader took a moment to rub it in the white haired boys face that he had won, Daiki lifted the hand that wasn't gripping his sword and took hold of the sword lodged in his shoulder, the edges of the blade biting into his palm. Without wasting another moment, he wrenched the sword from his flesh. A hideous expression crossed the thugs face as he tried to pull his sword away from the vampire, no undoubtedly making the wound in the boys hand worse, but he held on to the blade. A grin crossing his face, Daiki pulled the sword in so that he was face to face with the leader, and reared his leg to kick him with all his strength in the gut toward the guy coming up behind Mariko, so if he smashed into him successfully she would only have on person to deal with for the moment. Whether or not he actually made it there, he didn't know as another person caught the corner of his eye.

'So he didn't leave after all?' The thought tracked through his mind, a gratefulness washing over him when he caught sight of the ghost that had accompained him not long ago. Heh, not that long ago he had wished he would stop prying, but now he found himself saying 'thank you' over and over in his mind. Without a way for the thugs to attack him, the spirit would surely be able to get an upper hand in -- wait, what was that? A sword? No, even a complete moron wouldn't overlook the fact that he disappeared after being cut in half. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good if he continued to attack the defenseless spirit.

Turning back to face the goons that had been accompanying the leader, he smirked as he realized that they no longer held the stake as they had passed it on to their leader. Lifting his sword, he slashed wildly at the two, looking like a mad man. Pulling his top lip back and letting his fangs slide down, he gave them a demented look. Had he really gone insane? The thugs began to back off a bit, backing up further and further until the vampire was no longer trapped in a corner. Dropping the act, Daiki was able to move freely... except for his left shoulder and hand, of course. He now found himself half way between the goons that had shown up with the stake (Mariko and the people attacking her behind them) and the bar. Whichever side needed more help, he was there.

Lester swung around in time to see the man who leaped over the bar, brandishing a blade. The ghost went to fold his arms and a smirk crawled onto his features as he prepared for the man to embarrass himself swinging a sword harmlessly at the spirit, when suddenly he felt something slash across his chest and he was sent careening backwards into the wall, a gash in the front of his torso. His eyes wide in shock as he felt pain, actual pain, searing through him, the ghost looked up as the man, smirking held his blade aloft to reveal it as a Spirit Blade; Lester was in deep trouble. Springing upwards, the ghost shot past the follow-up strike, which narrowly missed his leg, and passed straight through his attacker right up to the wall on the other side behind the counter. Spinning around, Lester began to search urgently for some way of defending himself against the remarkably well-prepared thug.

Knife....knife.... he thought frantically, his usual calm, self-assured and almost suave demeanour disappearing in the face of a genuine threat.

His attacker made another strike at the ghost, and this time Lester was not fast enough and he fell once more as his ethereal leg was cut across. Such an engagement was something Lester was not used to - even during his life he had enjoyed the comforts of having other people constantly stationed to protect him - and as such his reflexes were not what they once were. Finding his own ability to levitate dwindling as the pain seared through his spiritual limb, the ghost clutched the cut in his chest as he began to crawl away from the thug, who closed in with a sneer on his face; he was clearly enjoying himself. Reaching the wall, Lester made to crawl through it to evade his attacker, but the thug was one step ahead of him and jammed his Spirit Blade downwards so that it caught the bottom of Lester's trousers, pinning him to the ground. Rolling off of his belly and onto his back to look up at the thug, Lester realised then and there that he was going to die - again.

"'Oo would've thought it, eh?" The man with the Spirit Blade leered down at Lester, "You can kill someone's 'oo's already dead!"

"This will just come back to bite you one day, you know." Lester replied, trying one last desperate bluff, the same as he had done with the barkeep only moments before; speaking of which, where had he gone? "You finish me off with that and I'll place a curse upon you. The sort of curse you ---"

It didn't work, as the man pulled the Spirit Blade up and struck Lester in the face with the hilt, stunning the ghost and making him unable to focus clearly on what his attacker was doing next. It was as he was trying to reconfigure his vision that Lester spotted the knife, a secondary weapon, on the man's belt, in its own little holster, and he immediately began concentrating with all his might; spirits could, at great mental exhaustion, exert some control over physical objects, and by God this was one of those occasions where it was worth the headache afterwards. His eyes screwing shut, Lester knew the last-second scheme was going to be an unlife-or-death decision, and that it was his last hope. It had to work. It just had to.

The knife moved in accordance with Lester's mind and slipped straight downwards, out of the holster, to embed itself in the thug's foot. The man screamed in pain and the blow he had been bringing down upon his victim was thrown to the side, tearing Lester's sleeve but otherwise avoiding a particularly nasty demise. The ghost wasted no time in making a break for it, crawling along the floor and through the bar itself, coming out on the other side to witness the melee still taking place in the pub as a whole. Both the white-haired vampire and the strange little girl seemed to be struggling to hold their own, and Lester could tell why; the thugs were armed with wooden stakes and Hunting Daggers. The question of how these seemingly common thugs had armed themselves so well for such an encounter began to race through Lester's mind, but it was soon swept away by the sound of heaving breath directly above him. Looking up, Lester came face-to-face with his original attacker, his face contorted with anger and pain, the Spirit Blade in one hand and the knife now coated in blood in the other.

"Ah!" Lester yelled out in shock and, admittedly, fear, as the man leaped down from the bar counter he was stood on, and the ghost sank into the ground to avoid him.

The ploy was successful, and soon Lester found himself in the cellar underneath the bar, the sound of the fight above ringing quite clearly in his ears. Limping in a way he thought impossible for a ghost, and still clutching his chest wound and wincing in pain regularly, Lester took a quick look at his surroundings. Within seconds he spotted the frightened barkeep huddled behind one of the barrels, and the ghost's original plan came racing back to him.

"Did you get the balls of string?" he demanded of the barkeep, who nodded before pointing them out; they sat near several bottles of the Wilwarin's strongest beverages, as Lester had ordered.

Apparently the barkeep had been too frightened to take the items back upstairs, and after what Lester had just suffered he couldn't blame him. However, the crashing and smashing from above could be heard getting louder and louder, and the ghost knew that his attacker had guessed his location and was enroute to finish the job. Hurriedly, he gestured to the barkeep.

"Quickly, douse the string in the drink. Quickly now!"

The barkeep hesitated, but after a few seconds of hearing the crashing coming nearer stood up and began doing as the ghost told him. The wound in his chest sending a jolt of pain through him again, Lester almost stumbled, but managed to stay upright long enough to direct the barkeep, until eventually all the balls of string were doused in the strongest drink available.

"Good, now get a match!" Lester ordered sharply, to which the barkeep gave him an incredulous look.

"No!" he said, "You can't be serious!"

"Do you want to die?" Lester replied, keeping his expression blank though his voice was shaky from the pain, "Then do as I say and get a match!"

The barkeep looked about ready to tell Lester where to shove it, but relented and hurried over to the shelves near the doorway, soon extracting a box of matches and lighting one. As he did so, Lester noticed the sudden stop in the noise coming from the Spirit Blade thug's descent to the cellar, and span around in time to see the man himself leering up behind the barkeep with the lit match, knife aloft.

"Watch out!" Lester yelled, knowing it was too late.

The thug stabbed the barkeep in the back, and the middle-aged man collapsed with a short yell of pain, giving Lester one last look of betrayal and confusion before hitting the ground, face down, and falling silent. The match fell to the ground next to him, the flame flickering weakly as the thug moved in on the ghost, his sneer from before returning; Lester noticed he now suffered a limp too. Backing away as far as he could go before hitting the wall - he could proceed no further or else he would end up underground the surface and could get lost for decades - Lester kept his eyes fixed on the thug the whole time, his gaze only straying for a split second in which he made note of the small flickering flame that remained of the match near the dead barkeep.

Could it work? he thought to himself.

"You," the thug said, raising his Spirit Blade for what they both knew would be the final time, "Are going to know what it means to suffer!"

"Get it over with." Lester replied coldly, not willing to let his last words be ones of begging and pleading.

His eyes left the thug's and fixed on the still-burning flame. Concentrating with all his might, Lester sent the match flying across the ground and into one of the half-empty alcohol bottles, causing it to explode and send shattered glass and flame into the thug's side. The thug staggered as the small explosion set its surrounding bottles off in a chain reaction; the flames spreading like wildfire amongst the alcohol-doused balls of string and open bottles. Explosions began to fill the cellar, from left to right, and before long the thug dropped his Spirit Blade as his sleeve caught fire. As he screamed and yelled trying to put the flames out, they spread across onto his chest, and he fell to the ground writhing in pain. Lester, having collapsed when he used his mental power to move the match and was unaffected by the inferno that was beginning to spring up in the Wilwarin cellar, got to his feet, still clutching his chest with his right hand, and looked down at the spasming figure with a cold, merciless stare.

"Help me!" the thug screamed, as his whole body began to be consumed by the flames, "You have to help me!"

"You," Lester said with a tone that was so icy it seemed to freeze the boiling air that surrounded them, "Are going to know what it means to suffer."

The thug's pain seemed to subside for a split second, as his eyes widened at how Lester had used his own words against him, at how the ghost was showing no mercy at all, and could only watch as the spirit floated past him and up the steps that led to the bar; the flames did not touch the ghost, but engulfed the thug, and his last thoughts were of nothing but pain.

Lester emerged from the cellar and collapsed behind the bar once again, smoke pouring out from the cellar entrance behind him. He managed to pull himself up long enough to look over the counter and see how the vampire and the girl were holding up, and whether they had yet to notice that the Wilwarin was about to burn.....

(OOC: Got a little carried away XD)

Edit; ((Oh crap! Sorry I wasn't paying attention to which account I was on. Won't happen again, I'm running late for something so....))

“Damn!”

Mariko’s blade had been parried and the thug was now pushing her back. It was tacking most of her concentration and both of her hands to hold him off, even though she was stronger that this thug, but he was the better swordsmen. Another man was coming at her from behind the thug she was holding off. There was no way that she could fight more than one of these people at a time. The sound of someone approaching from behind her, made her stomach clench. She turned her head slightly so that she could see the attacker out of the corner of her eye.

The thug grinned with villainous pride as he pulled his blade back, ready to strike. Time seemed to slow down around Mariko. There was no way that she was going to be able to get out of this. She was going to die. There was no avoiding it. Everything was about to end. She could hear her heart beating heavily as everything else fell quit.

Suddenly another thug flew through the air and smashed into the attacker. Everything came crashing back to life. Both Mariko and the two other thugs who had come to attack her all stood frozen in shock and amazement. Mariko was luckily the first to snap out of it. She took advantage of the startled thugs and released one hand from her katana and delt a sharp punch into the thugs chin. She thug gagged as her flew a few feet, landing at the third attacker’s feet. She looked at the remaining thug who still seemed to be in shock. She smiled menacingly, revealing her sharp teeth.

But before she had a chance to attack, the leader and the goon that had been hit by him had returned to their feet and were now coming after her. The leader seemed winded, but still wanting to destroy them all. It seemed now that he had found he was not strong enough to beat the vampire and was now going to come after a girl who he probably saw as weaker. Mariko glared at them, and jumped out of the way of there attacks. She jumped into the air, trying for an attack from above. She flapped her wings lightly under her cloak, a movement that she hoped was unnoticeable.

The attack failed however. The two thugs swung wildly at her as she descended for a strike. She managed to leave a large gash on the front of one of the thugs who fell to the ground, but the leader would not let this slide. He sung hard at her, and Mariko attempted to dodge. But she could not move in time. The blade missed her body, but gashed into her still extended left wing.

She screamed out in pain. Never had she been hit on her wings. She had never known what it was like. She stumbled away from the thug leader and gripped her shoulder. The pain spread through her entire back and left side. It even reached down her leg. She had never felt such a strange pain. At first all she was filled with was panic and fear, but that quickly was replaced by overwhelming rage. She gripped her katana harder and lashed out at the thug in a wild frenzy. There was no thinking behind her attack. It was a blind rage that was no doubt fed by the pain and fear she was feeling. Everything seemed to fade to red as she continued her blind assault on the thug leader.

Shrieks of pain and anger came from all sides, from all people. The spirit had been hit with the spirit blade which was no doubt a shock, the girl had been hit badly from the sound of her screams. Thugs fell to the ground, bleeding or winded; wounded or dead. Daiki took this all in for a moment, the scent of blood tearing at his nostrils. It seemed every time he had a small amount to hold him over, an overpowering amount of the red liquid overwhelmed him. Still, he made sure not to give into the veins that bulged in their necks... not even a violent thug deserved that fate. His only physical defense now was his sword, but if he played it safe then the three of them just might make it out alive.

The two gang members that stood before him now also seemed to take this in, but the difference was... they enjoyed it. It was of their own doing, and they basked in the glory of their work. Still, the three undead were the ones unwanted? The idea made the vampire grip harder at his sword handle, as if trying to snap it in half, his knuckles turning white. With a wild charge, he shot toward the gang members, right arm holding his blade in toward him rather than wildly above him and slashing downward as they had done. Once he was close enough, he noticed for the first time the daggers they wielded, and it was almost enough to stop him dead in his tracks. Hunter's Daggers. The white haired boy had come in contact with his fair share of the weapon, and each time the silver metal of the blade seemed as if it were two swords ripping through him rather than a small dagger. Still, he continued his charge as another scream of pain cracked through the bar, and it wasn't hard to tell who it was from. The girl. There was no way, the leader had already righted himself?! The boy grunted and pushed off the floor as he neared the two goons. One stabbed out wildly at him, but luckily the white haired boys foot managed to nail him in the face as he leaped over him.

Landing on the floor with a loud thud, he whipped around quickly to see where the girl was. Once he spotted her, he couldn't help but stare a bit with wide eyes. The girl was lashing out menacingly at the leader of the thugs, katana ripping into the mans flesh several times. The other gang members rushed to help their commander, coming up on her from behind, and seeing as she had completely lost herself in a frenzy, Daiki threw himself at the group. Sword sticking straight out, he felt it get caught on something when he made contact with the group, a cry of pain following the motion. Before he could see who or where he had hit, a fist to his gut knocked the wind out of him, and he was knocked to the floor gasping for air.

The weight of someone's knees fell onto his arms and legs, keeping his limbs from flailing... but why? There was no pain -- oops, spoke too soon. The cold silver metal of a hunters dagger entered the wound that had been left by the leader, but this thug wasn't as clean with it. His sword went of track, so rather than going straight through the flesh, he felt it make new tears in the muscle, and eventually he felt it scrap against bone. The vampire tried desperately to heave the thug off of him, to get up somehow, but the thugs combined weight was enough to keep him nailed to the ground as the thug tore sloppily at the once small wound, tearing it open and ripping it longer down his arm. A scream tore from the boys throat, one that couldn't be held in no matter how he tried as the thug tortured him, the wound now a three inch bloody gash from his shoulder down his arm toward his biceps.

'God, I swear you're weak! You can't take on a few humans... I honestly don't know how you made it so far up in the ranks in your army days!'

The voice dripped with menace and disapproval, and it stung. Sort of like a metal boot kicking him in the side while he lay there. Still, the words motivated him. The fingers of his right hand scrambled for something, anything to get the people off of him. Eventually, he felt a piece of discarded wood, no doubt from the table that had been smashed. with a desperate surge of power and energy, he used all of his strength to thrust the wood into whoever sat on his arm. Pressure was put on the wood, and a scream was heard. A wet feeling covered his fingers, no doubt blood from the mans leg he had just stabbed. The weight of the man dispersed from his right side, and he was able to swing his body over to punch the man that held the Hunter's Dagger in the jaw.

'Come on, a ten year old has a better punch than THAT!'

The words enraged the vampire, and soon he found himself standing, clutching at his left arm. He fumbled for his sword, and managed to let go of his arm and let it lay limply at his side while he lashed out randomly towards the thugs. Oh, they were gonna die. His eyes now darkened in color, and if one were able to get close enough they would see how they had turned a charcoal black. Anger pulsated from him... perhaps Sieg had gained some control over him? He didn't exactly remember how he had gotten the thugs off of him, and getting so pissed wasn't usually like him. Still, he didn't think about that now. Right now, he focused on the goons before him. Many had been killed off or lying there wounded, but some still survived.

"Who are you to say we are the one's not welcome?" The vampire started, moving towards on of the men. "We are not the one's who go picking off innocent people for no reason!" He ranted, throwing his foot up to the man's stomach. "We had done nothing to -- oh crap."

The last part of his raving was cut off by the scent of smoke, which dragged his eyes toward the cellar. There, he watched as the ghost collapsed behind the bar after emerging from the basement, where smoke was spilling out. The scent of burning flesh was carried in the air, but so was burning wood. The inn was going to collapse in on them all.

'Son of a mother!' He screamed in his head, where Sieg was the only one to hear him. He turned away from the thugs and to the door, but as expected, it was still barricaded tightly. Whirling around, he looked desperately for an escape... and one was found.

The thugs had all forgotten the battle, as all had noticed the smoke that drifted in the air. Most panicked, obviously they had never been prepared for this sort of thing. Daiki, however, rushed towards the large front window, raised his sword over his head, and brought the handle down hard on the window pane. Glass flew everywhere, mostly outward, but some stuck out of the boys right hand where it hand connected with the window. He turned to face those in the inn, and drew in a sharp breath.

"GET OUT! NOW!"

While some did move towards the window, Daiki quickly crossed the room towards the bar. Some looked at him as if he were insane, others simply didn't care. Once reaching the bar, he headed behind the counter to find the ghost. A large gash was stretched across his chest and leg, and over all, he looked as if he were about to pass out.

"Can you get out?!"

The voice was desperate, but unnecessary. He was a ghost... no doubt the burning building wouldn't harm him, but rather pass through him. Still, the wounds that the ghost had concerned the vampire. How deep they were, who knew? Were they enough to kill the man... well, again?

Daiki the Noble: That wound on your arm is really bad, and is bleeding heavily. You need some human blood to drink, and fast, or it could become quite debilitating. There are pools of the crimson blood lying around... calling to you, it seems. You find yourself torn between compromising your principles and living without the use of your left arm.

Lester: As you're lying behind the bar, a dying thug falls backwards into the countertop. The Barkeep's cashbox falls to the ground; inside, you find 40 gold pieces, yours for the taking!

All: The caustic smoke from the fire is now ripping through the building. The thugs are, for the most part, dealt with. The ones that still have whole bodies are scrambling to undo their barricades. However, the fire may very well consume the building before you can escape through the door. It is best that you find an alternate way out before the flames consume you.

OOC to Lester: I found your attacks upon the man with the Spirit Sword rather ingenious. For your creativity and above-average post, you have been awarded 40 gold!

OOC to All: You may now proceed with the topic and do not need to wait for me to post again before continuing.

((OOC: :lol: Thank you!))

Taking the gold of the now-dead barkeep should probably have triggered guilt inside Lester, but the ghost was currently thinking pragmatically, not emotively. Logic was what would get them out of this mess, not guilt, and gold was always useful in acquiring the services of others whom could perform tasks a spirit could not. Yes, there was definitely nothing definitively wrong with him taking the gold. Floating up to full height, and soon limping downwards again, and with his hand ever-clutching his chest, Lester glanced over at the two others. They had performed well against their own attackers, with several already dead or wounded, but had taken some injuries themselves as a result. The vampire in particular looked hurt badly, and the ghost could not help but wonder if he would attempt to drink the blood of the dead to replenish himself.

I could hardly hold it against him, Lester thought with a small wince of pain, He's already shown restraint this far, and this is survival after all; seems I was wrong about him being like all the others.

Suddenly the pain in his chest shot through him again and he fell once more to the ground. In a vain attempt to get back to his feet, Lester soon exhausted himself. It was then that he heard the sound of the vampire's voice above him, and turned to see its owner looking down at him over the bar, a look of genuine concern across his face that surprised the ghost somewhat; he had assumed the vampire cared little for his well-being after the less than friendly encounter they had been having prior to this attack.

"Can you get out?!"

"I'm quite fine," Lester replied, even if he didn't look it, in his clipped and dignified voice; there was no point letting the vampire hear him panic, "I would attend to the girl, if I were you. Break a window or something, and get yourselves out."

Pulling himself again, this time with enough willpower and strength of mind to keep himself straight for a little longer, Lester looked the vampire in the eyes for a short while, clearly at loss as to what else to say, before glancing over the men scrambling to undo the barricade; they would never make it in time. The broken window also caught Lester's gaze, and he realised that the vampire had already foreseen such a route of escape, but it was now threatened by the thugs spotting it also; if they all scrambled for the window too, it could still trap the vampire and girl in the Inn long enough for them to be caught in the raging inferno that was still creeping up from the cellars, and even coming up through gaps in the floorboards; the flames licking at the feet of those who hurried past them.

"You might want to hurry," Lester told the vampire and gestured to the men who hurrying over to the broken window, before breaking out into a huge leap across the pub.

Shooting across the pub, Lester made a bee-line for the largest of the surviving thugs who was now clambering up to get through the broken window. The ghost passed straight into the thug, not coming out the other side but instead remaining within his body, and the man instantly halted his escape attempt. Lester was counting on the sudden shock alone working as there was precious little else he could, but they were fortunate enough this time. The thug fell back with a yelp at the icy shock of having a ghost rest inside of him, and he knocked several of the others over as he did so, leaving a space for the vampire and the girl to clamber out of the window, even if they only had a few seconds to make it.

"That should--ah!!" began Lester, only to feel sudden pain once more in his other, good leg, and looking down saw one of the men on the floor, a Hunting Dagger in his hand and the point of the blade in Lester's leg.

Unable to help the vampire and the girl anymore, Lester swayed and rocked uncontrollably as the third wound finally began to succumb him. He must have appeared more as if he was drunk than injured, but it was a result of having both legs wounded whilst floating; he could not control the direction he was going in. His eyes screwed shut as the pain overwhelmed him, Lester span around and made the only move he could do; he shot through the Wilwarin's wall and out into the street outside. Collapsing to the ground, Lester managed to look back at the Inn through the broken window and had one final thought before losing consciousness,

It's up to them now.

Mariko continued her attack, still blinded by her rage. the thug leader was fighting back now. He slashed a large gash in her right hip, but she continued the attack. The world was a blur. All that existed was herself and the man she was fighting. She would rip him apart. Suddenly there was a sharp blow to the side of her head and she went flying into a table. Her head throbbed as reality crashed back over her.

The air was thick with smoke. Thugs were running everywhere. Everything seemed in complete chaos. Mariko's head was spinning and her vision was going in and out of focus. It took her several moments to realize what was happening. Fire!! There was a fire and everyone was locked inside. She had to find a way out, before....But where was the vampire? He had to get out too. They where all going to die if they didn't get out.

She tried to stand up, but pain surged through her entire body and her head was spinning. She fell back onto her behind. Several attempts latter, she managed to reach her feet. She couldn't let her body breakdown yet. She scanned the room. Thugs were running everywhere. Debris fell from the ceiling. They didn't have any time left.

She spotted the vampire leaning over the bar. What was he doing? They had to move fast. She ran over to him, shaking of the pain. She couldn't concentrate on it now. When she reached the vampire, she was surprised to find a badly injured ghost. The vampire looked no better. She had not payed much attention to the other two during the fight, and she felt her stomach clench at how badly they were hurt. Could she have helped them?

But the smoke was growing thicker now. The ghost suddenly blasted across the pub. He proceeded to stop some thugs from blocking a window that had been broken. That was their way out. Mariko turned back to the vampire and put a hand on his unhurt shoulder.

"We need to get going," she said. "They could be waiting outside for us and it's best if we get out of the city as fast as possible."

She looked at the boys face. She couldn't see it clearly. Her eyes blurred out the details of his face, as her head throbbed once again. She put a hand to her head and felt wet blood. Bleeding in front of a vampire, not a good thing. She turned and made a mad dash for the window. This was her last chance. They didn't have much time.

Strange, how only awhile ago, Daiki found this ghost nothing more than a nuisance intent on revealing what he was. Now, however, he found that he had developed a respect for the deceased man as he kept his act together despite all that had happened so shortly. He found himself simply nodding at the ghost's calm words, unwilling to press the matter of his well being. If he was anything like Daiki himself, there wasn't the slightest chance he was going to let on how much pain he was in; it would be a waste of time. So, instead, he simply nodded as the ghost took in the condition of the room.

"You might want to hurry."

With that the spirit flung across the Inn to stop some of the thugs from blocking their only escape. Looking on, the vampire gave a silent prayer for the spirit as he entered the body of the thug. The voice of the girl snapped him from his trance, the words basically suggesting the same as the last spirit's. Get out. Clearing his mind of everything other than those two words, his eyes lifted to the face of the girl... and soon snapped shut at the sight. Blood leaked from her scalp, the tempting crimson liquid trickling down her hair. No, no. He repeated this in his mind, and for the first time in... a long time, Sieg made no objections against the reluctance against the blood.

Still, now that the thought of blood entered his mind, he couldn't help but notice how much truly had been shed when he finally wrenched his eyes open. Pools of it lay quietly on the floor, some splattered against the walls as if an angry artist had kicked a can of red paint onto a blank canvas. The crimson puddles soon resembled the boys eyes as his rage drifted into blood lust. Still, he denied himself the pleasure of it... he had never tasted human blood before, and he did not intend to now. Making up his mind, he took a step to follow after the retreating girl, but didn't make it more than a few steps when a sudden realization hit him, and glancing down at his shoulder he groaned.

Some of the pools of blood had not been from the thugs, as he had once thought all had come from them. His eyes followed the trail one of the puddles made, and grimaced as it ended at his own feet, more scarlet drops falling from his shoulder and onto the ground. It was in that moment that he realized all the pain had left his arm, only replaced by a tingling numbness. He couldn't seem to move the limb... too much blood had been lost, too many muscles torn. No doubt he would loose control of the arm for good, looking over the damage. There had to be something he could do to save the arm, but what...

The reality of the situation slammed into the boy as if a truck had hit him where he stood; faced with an impossible choice. He could take the blood, save his arm... or... lose it for good. As if being split into two pieces, Daiki looked helplessly between the fire that lapped at the floorboards, and the pools of blood that lay splattered where fire was not making it's destructive presence known. 'Not much time,' he told himself as he glanced up at the open window. Through it, he could see the spirit had escaped, but now lay unconscious. He had to make a choice, and he had to make it now. Go against everything he had ever believed in, or save his arm.

A frustrated roar built in the vampire's throat, creating a low growling noise. Damn it, he had to do it. Shaking himself from his locked state, the white haired boy lunged toward one of the thugs. He found the leader, the one who had caused this whole damned scene. A burning hatred for the man drove him to grip the front of his shirt as the man stumbled to his feet after being a capsule for the spirit. Eyes swirled from red to black, as if not able to make out the dominant feeling. The frightened look in the man's own eyes as the vampire let his fangs slide down so that they were like small, razor sharp daggers almost seemed to make it all the more difficult for the boy to bring himself to his next actions, but remembering the joyous look that had filled the leaders eyes as he had nearly killed the vampire made him ignore the pleading eyes, and lurched his head toward the man's neck.

Mere moments later, the man was drained of every drop of blood he had once possessed and he fell to the ground with a sick thud when the boy let go, his clothes soon set on fire as it ate through the floor boards. The white haired vampire wasted no time in leaving the body and going for the shattered window, leaving the remaining thugs to watch their leader burn. It was sickening.

Leaping through the hole of shattered glass, he soon connected with the hard, paved sidewalk. Lying flat on his back, he found himself staring up into the starred sky when his eyes were finally able to focus. Not only on being able to see did they clear up, but also the color. A deep purple they had turned the moment he had safely exited the building, sadness washing over him like a tidal wave drenching him in it. He supposed he should be rejoicing the fact that they had all made it out, well, not alright, but alive. Still, the final moments he had spent in the Inn replayed over and over in his mind. He had never hated himself more than he did in that moment, that moment when the drained body fell to the floor, and the vampire was left feeling good. The taste of human blood had been appealing, freshening... and knowing that scared him.

Before, it had been hard to resist reaching for someone's throat, and he didn't even know what it would have tasted like. Now, however, he knew... and he liked it. Would this make it harder still to resist the ever nagging temptation? Of course, and no doubt Sieg's constant urging would make it no easier. Realizing all of this at once as he lay there, a spasm of pain broke out over his body, but not because of previous wounds that were already starting to very slowly heal. Moisture streaked down his cheeks, but not more blood. No, for the first time in quite awhile, the boy felt tears roll down his face as he propped himself up on his good arm to look from the two that had fought beside him in the Inn, and the very Inn itself, the scent of burning flesh stronger than before as the fire grew stronger. A murmur escaped his lips as the flames danced within the building.

"120 years of restraint... all down the toilet."

((Sorry for taking so long. I've been REALLY busy and now I'm sick, which explains the crappyness. Sorry again....))

Mariko reached the broken window in only a few moments. She placed her foot on the windowsill and pushed free from the burning Inn into the fresh air. The heat from the fire still reached her, even out into the cool night. She landed shakily on her feet, flinching from the pain in her side and wing. Her head was still spinning and it took her several moments before she was able to stand up fully.

She looked around at the outside world. Most of the thugs were no where to be seen, others were running away. People were shouting about the fire. Others were coming with buckets of water. With all these people around, there was no doubt that they needed to get as far away from this place as possible. But where was the vampire?

The white haired boy had not found his way out yet. What was he doing? Did he not hear what she had said. After several more minutes, the vampire jumped out of the window, landing hard on his back. Mariko let out a sigh of relief and ran up to him.

"We really need to get moving," she said when she reached him.

She noticed several things about the white haired vampire. He was obviously in deep thought. His eyes were a deep purple and he appeared to be crying. His severe wounds were slowly beginning to heal. She could tell what he had done, but acted as if she did not. She looked around the street as more ans more people showed up. She noticed the transparent figure lying on the ground. Unconscious? Could ghosts pass out?

"Should we take him with us?" she asked, pointing at the ghost with her thumb.

All: Heavy footsteps echo off of the cobblestones outside of the Wilwarin, accompanied by frantic shouts and the clanking of weapons and armor. A routine sentry making his rounds noticed the smoke rising into the night sky and alerted a regiment of guardsmen. They are nearing the pub now. You are uncertain of how they will take in the scene; will you be viewed as culprits, or unfortunate victims?

OOC to All: The guards are not interested in attacking you, at least not yet. If you have a convincing enough story, they may help you and provide you with the healing that two of you so desperately need. On the other hand, if they think you're lying, they may turn on you and arrest you for arson. You can always flee, but how far will you get with two of you so wounded?

You may now proceed with the topic and do not need to wait for me to post again before continuing.

((OOC: Yes, short. I apologize for the craptasticness, been having a bit of a writers block lately -.-))

The girls words tore the boy from his thoughts, all memories of the past few minutes ripped away as he found himself looking around the street that the Inn was located on. Feet pounded against the ground and voices cried out as people gathered around the burning building, some with buckets of water that did next to nothing to the fire that had started to spread throughout the building, ripping through and consuming it unmercifully. At the suggestion that they leave the scene, the boys eyes cut across the clearing and soon rested on the ghost's unconscious figure. How exactly were they supposed to get him out of there? No doubt any attempts would simply pass right through the spirit, right?

The vampire's train of thought was cut short as a group of guards approached them, and luckily it seemed that the men hadn't quite pinned them for the mess yet. Surely fleeing the scene was out of the question now, it would merely make them appear as the ones who had indeed caused the fire. What other reason would they have for running the moment the feds showed up? Turning to the girl, he desperately hoped she understood the fact as he used his good arm to push himself to his feet. Facing the girl, he pondered a few stories in his mind, but each hit a dead end if certain questions were asked. Truthfully, they had done nothing wrong. However, their story did seem a little... unreasonable. Attacked by ten thugs with weapons, and somehow they were the only ones to make it out so there were no other witnesses. Of course. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in, his eyes fixed on the girls.

"My thinking is, as long as we stick to the truth... well, most of it anyway, we should be good."

The vampire didn't say anything. He seemed to have snapped out of his trance, however. At least he had heard what she had said. The boy looked around the street, his eyes resting on the transparent figure of the ghost that lied unconscious nearby. He was obviously thinking about how to move him. They couldn't touch the ghost after all. Mariko's head gave another throb. She would let the vampire worry about that. She couldn't think strait with her head kept pounding like this.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mariko noticed a group of guards coming their way. She swore under her breath. That's just what they needed. She was too banged up to deal with more humans. They should get out of here. But, luckily, the guards did not seem ready to attack them just yet. Maybe they could get out of this. Her head throbbed once again and she put a hand to her forehead.

She wasn't going to be able to try and talk to the guards. She wasn't much of a people person to start with. She looked at the white haired vampire, as he said:

"My thinking is, as long as we stick to the truth... well, most of it anyway, we should be good."

He was crazy. There was no way the truth would get them out of this. Vampires, ghosts, and demons weren't exactly the most likable people, or the most trustworthy. They couldn't really lie and say that they were human. It was obvious they weren't, but there seemed to be no other choice at the moment.

"Fine," Mariko said, "but you do the talking."

The boy cocked an eyebrow; he could tell the girl was hesitant with his plan despite her words. Well, she did indeed have a right to be considering what they were... but didn't he say most of the truth? If he just happened to leave out their races and explained everything else honestly, they would have no reason to convict them, right? After all, they really hadn't been doing anything wrong before they were attacked, and any murder after that was mere self defense. Still, the vampire had to admit that if they were indeed found out for their race, that they would most likely be jailed or possibly executed. Strange, it seemed, how those who have done nothing wrong could end up punished for something that they couldn't control. Never the less, the boy nodded and turned to face the guards who had by then reached them. Perhaps it was best not to spill the entire story right away, though; maybe see if they could get the ghost some medical attention before he, umm, died again? And the girl... she did look a bit pained from the head wound.

"Officers, I suppose you're wondering how this happened... if you could get my friends here some immediate medical attention, I'd be more than happy to explain."

While saying this, Daiki gestured with his right hand to the spirit's motionless form only a few feet from where they stood, as well as the girl next to him. Surely, they wouldn't have a problem with this, would they? It was a simple request on his part, and in exchange he offered information that the men most likely wanted. True, the information he offered wouldn't be all that helpful in catching the thugs that started the whole mess as they were all burning in the Inn, besides a lucky few who managed to scramble out the window before the spirit knocked them back. Still, it would be enough not to mark them as criminals... right?

Lester had been unaware that ghosts could fall unconscious until now. As he woke groggily from the short slumber he had endured, he theorised that it was a result of his fight against the Spirit Blade; if it could cause pain, it could cause concussion. The ghost's second thought was an immediate recall of the fact that the Wilwarin Inn was burning to the ground, and that his two newly formed comrade-in-arms were possibly still trapped inside. Rising up to his full height, the spirit quickly swerved around to see both the vampire and the girl stood together, looking over at a group of the Guard whom had just arrived on the scene. The vampire was doing the talking, and Lester immediately decided to disappear from sight, even if it was likely the guards had already notice the see-through man lying sprawled across the ground. With a small crack, the ghost became invisible, and floated over towards the conversation, as the sound of the Wilwarin burning behind him flickered through his ears, and some of the soldiers began hurrying about in a vain attempt to find some method of stopping the inferno.

"Officers, I suppose you're wondering how this happened... if you could get my friends here some immediate medical attention, I'd be more than happy to explain."

Such were the vampire's words, and Lester raised his invisible eyebrows as he glanced over to see the soldier's reply. A small hiss almost revealed his presence as pain from his wounds, though subsiding and already beginning to fade away across his body, continued to throb throughout him. Quickly hovering over to the other side of the group in case one of them tried to search him out, he began to consider his position. It would probably be best for him to slip off on his own at this point; he could do little more than provide an odd question to answer in the soldiers' investigation, and would probably compromise any cover story the vampire was hoping to draw up to hide his own race; after all, what would he say when the soldiers asked him why a ghost was talking to him in the first place? No, it was definitely best if Lester simply remained invisible and observed what happened as a result of this entire incident.

The yells of the dying men inside the Wilwarin shot through his ears, but the ghost did not flinch. Friedrich Lester was not a merciful man, in life or death.

((Sorry for taking so long and for the short post. I don't have much time for even homework lately...))

Mariko looked at the guards. She tried as heard as she could to not show how nervous she was. The last thing they needed was to look suspicious. She put her hand on her side wound, ans tried to disguise her discomfort at being around the guards as pain. She was in a lot of pain after all.

A crack sounded behind them. No doubt the ghost had regained consciousness. She turned her head slightly just to make sure, and, as she expected, no one was there. Their flouting friend was strong enough to stand up and turn himself invisible. Maybe he wasn’t too injured. Mariko faced the guards again, as a sharp pain ran through her head. It was the worst one of all and she had to put her hand on the vampires shoulder to stop from falling over. She put her other hand up to her head. It was only a mater of time before she wouldn’t be able to stand at all, but now wasn’t the time.

She looked up at the guards with pathetic eyes. She hoped that the fact that she looked so bad would be enough for the guards to agree to the vampire’s request.

((OOC: BAH. Sorry for uber lateness, at first I kept thinking we were waiting on someone, and when I finally realized that everyone had posted I wasn't able to get to a computer for more than ten minutes given to post in another thread.))
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A look of calm remained on the vampires face as he awaited the guards answer; panicking would get them no where, only more distressed than they already were. A loud crack sounded throughout the clearing, distinctly louder and different from the cracking and popping from the fire. Tilting his head just a bit, he was able to see that the ghost had turned himself invisible; at least he was well enough to do that. Whether he had left them to their fate with the guards or not, Daiki still felt a bit of a weight lifted from his shoulders in reassurance that the ghost was not too badly injured if he were able to disappear and probably move about. After all, if any of them had ended up dead it would have been his fault - if he had listened to his better judgment and stayed away from the Inn, then they wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, now would they?

Dragging his mind from such thoughts, the vampire placed patient gray eyes back on the guards. Rather, he considered what the spirit would do. Most likely he would find medical help somewhere else; after all, if they were indeed found somehow responsible for the arson, he would take the chance to escape the sentence... though he had surprised the boy before in the Inn when he had stayed to fight, perhaps he would again? That in mind, he tried not to think much of it, but he couldn't help but wonder what would happen to them if they were found to be the culprits rather than the thugs who had started the whole mess. Prison? Death? No, the latter would probably only result if they were found out for their race as well as guilty. Yeah, that wouldn't blow over too well.

A hand on the boy's good shoulder nearly made him jump, but when he saw it was only the girl he relaxed... at least until he saw why she had leaned on his shoulder. She looked as if she were about pass out, eyes pleading. Horror shook the boy; had he really overlooked her injury by such a large margin? He had guessed that since it was a head wound after all it would defiantly need medical attention, but had he noticed how much pain it seemed to put her in? Shame settled in the boys gut, and turning back to the guards who were still thinking over his proposition, he uttered one word to possibly speed them up.

"Please."

A sudden look of urgency gleamed in his eyes that had only minutes ago been relaxed. Perhaps the ghost had gone, but maybe not... and if that were the case, then getting the two he had fought with in the bar was his top priority; allowing these officers to linger over their decision was now out of the question. Even if they refused his offer, he would get them help somehow. As for himself, his arm still lay numb at his side; though the blood he had drank did indeed allow him to regain his strength, it would take some time before it started to mend his shoulder - it was indeed at work at that moment, but so slow... so slow.

Mariko's eyes moved in and out of focus as she leaned on the vampire. She wondered how much longer it would be before the head wound took it's toll on her. The guards began to talk among themselves, but Mariko could not make out a word they were saying. There was no doubt that they were talking about what to with the her and the vampire. She hopped they would make up their mind soon. She needed help. It was a miracle that she was able to think this clearly.

A thought flashed into her mind that was almost as hard to stand as the pain. What would happen if they took them in? What would happen when someone started to heal her? The wings on her back would be pretty noticeable. Even if the two were able to convince the guards that they were human, when the healer saw what grew out of her back, they would be in trouble. There was no way of hiding it. The thought was swept from her mind when a new burst of pain came on. These attacks were getting worse and worse every time and they were lasting longer as well. She tightened her grip on the vampire's shoulder, only loosening her hold when the pain was gone. Her eyes were starting to water from it, and it appeared that she was crying. Perhaps this would help the guards decide.

OOC: Well, at first I had been waiting for a response from Lester... but then I got grounded for a few weeks and haven't been able to get on until now. Umm... we need to think of a way to solve this since our dungeon master apparently ditched us. *sniff sniff*
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Frustration grew in the vampire as the guards lingered further in discussing what to do with the two. It was a simple offer really, it should be rather simple to decide on what to do. The guards needed information that they had - they had only requested one simple thing. Hand clenching into a fist, the vampire struggled to remain calm. Reminding himself that anger would get him no where, he bit his lip to refrain himself from barking at the guards that were now taking their sweet time... perhaps all that was need was a slight nudge to help them decide a bit faster. Not daring to leave his post as the girl's support beam, he raised his voice to be heard over the increasing mob that surrounded the Inn.

"Gentlemen, it would be appreciated if you could hurry up in your decision... or else we could simply move on and get help ourselves. Now, this would be no skin off of my nose, and you would be out of sources for information it seems that you need."

Remaining as civil as possible as he spoke, he reminded himself that any hostility shown towards the guards could be used against him if he were found out for what he was - it was better to seem as much of a gentlemen as possible and stay away from any hostility, even in tone of voice. Waiting a few moments, his mind began to wander to how exactly he would carry out that threat. He had only recently wandered into the area, and wasn't quite sure where exactly he would find medical help. Bane? No, if Daiki's hunch was correct and the girl currently gripping to his shoulder was indeed a demon, or even a half demon, there would be more bloodshed rather than help. Of this he could be certain as the man's final words to him rang throughout his mind.

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OOC: Hurray for random, meaningless fillers!

((I couldn't think of any other way than to make them talk...Also sorry it is short. I don't have much time, because of finals.))

Mariko wondered how much longer she would have to wait before they would help them. She wasn't sure how long she could last before she wouldn't be able to stand, even while holding onto the vampire. She hoped they would chose soon. Even if they found out she was a half-demon, dying would be better than this. She might even be able to get away from them if they healed her head before they went for her wing. The guards seemed to come to an agreement on something, and now turned back to the two.

"Alright," one guard said, "We'll get you help, but you will have to tell us everything that happened here."

Thank the gods. But whether this was going to be a good or bad thing, Mariko didn't know. She didn't care. She needed help, but there was the whole half-demon thing. It was such a bad idea to come into town. Humans were so much trouble. Another shot of pain split her thoughts. This one was slightly less painful than the last. Maybe she was getting better...

((Sorry my internet connection did something strange and I accidentally posted twice....Oops.))

"Alright, we'll get you help, but you will have to tell us everything that happened here."

Concerns of how they would get help if the vampire intended to carry out his threat washed away as the guards finally agreed to the vampire's terms. A smile broke it's way onto the boys face as he took a step closer to the guards (making sure that the girl leaning on him would still be able to keep her hold on his shoulder) to shake the leaders hand.

"Thank you sir, thank you so m--" The white haired vampire's voice cut short and his eyes widened in sudden shock. It seemed that the blood had finally fixed the nerves and feeling in his arm... but perhaps for the moment this wasn't such a good thing. Though his arm was slowly being mended, it was still far too slow to cut off the rush off pain that accompanied the reconstruction of the nerves in his shoulder. He sucked in a sharp breath and bit down on his lip to keep from growling in pain. The obvious tearing of muscle and flesh had probably already been noted by the guards by now, with the fire allowing enough light to see the crimson stain that enveloped almost his entire left side. Perhaps they had been wondering why he hadn't been showing any sign of pain only moments ago, and now suddenly he was tongue tied with pain that he hadn't thought to hide. Trying to pull some self control together to cover his pain, he feebly attempted to continue where he had left off.

"Much. I really, really appreciate it! Now, as soon as my friend here can get some help, I'll answer any questions you have."

Though the boy's body screamed out for him to ask for some treatment as well, his mind was a bit quicker at putting together what would happen - any seasoned medic would realize that something wasn't quite right with his arm, that it was reconstructing itself. That's not normal. Hopefully by the time that the boy was brought to questioning, most if not all of the screaming pain would have subsided to a dull nagging pain and he would be able to construct a reasonable answer. The guard gave him a sideways glance, as if curious as to why he hadn't requested attention himself. Shoot, perhaps he hadn't pulled off the poker face he thought he had.

"Okay... follow me." The leader turned towards the group of guards around him, ordering a few to tend to the fire at the pub and another to assist the girl leaning on Daiki's shoulder, her agony painfully noticeable. Before the guard approached, Daiki leaned back to the girl's ear and whispered one last thing before they were lead toward help.

"I'm Daiki; can I get your name by any chance?"