In Search for a Crown (1x1 w/Gena Windstarr and Hannibal ante portas)

Hannibal ante portas

Hannibal ante portas

Some people just want cheesecake
200 years ago, Warlord Vlad defeated the Court of the Byzantine Princes. During the victory feast he slayed the Ancient Ones and consumed their power. The Warlord’s host numbering hundreds of old vampires who swore fealty to Vlad, new vampires turned for the purest purpose of war, and allies of Other Powers stand at attention waiting on their General’s speech.
Witnesses claim that Vlad arrived in the center of the throne room wearing a crown of darkness. He spoke in the words of Power and unleased his power upon his own host. Each vampire touched became his prodigy. Vampires of thousands of years became childe, wearing the yoke of bondage again. Many Other’s fled before enslavement; except the Nachtkrapp (Night Ravens) and Fáfnir (the Last Dragon).
As the Host and the defeated masses knelt, Vlad spoke “those who find me will receive my Crown” and the foundations of vampire world shook.

September 16, 2017
On a south bound train, we follow two friends who search for the promise of a crown and finds an adventure they didn’t expect…
 
The buxom and youthful looking redhead sat quietly in her seat, watching the countryside roll by outside the windows. She was a very pretty woman blessed with long red hair that cascaded in soft waves about her shoulders and back. Her blue eyes could sparkle with mirth or show her anger, or give a flirty glance that made a mans heartbeat quicken. She stood five feet, seven inches tall and her figure was slim, graceful, curved in all the right places and she was graced with fair skin and a clear complexion. She looked to be in her early, maybe mid twenties but in reality she was much older. She was actually a pretty rare thing, she was a Dhampir and legends said the females of the kind were rarer than the males.

She wore snug fitting faded jeans, a sleeveless frilly necked pink top, jean jacket and black boots. The ensemble was cute, almost playful in a way, showed her figure nicely and allowed for quick and easy movement if needed

Gena Windstarr sat there, thinking of the journey, of the quest that had brought her and her companion this far. They were, perhaps an odd pair, each having different reasons for persueing this quest and Gena was unsure how it all would end. She was excited yes, but a bit apprehensive. To seek the one they sought was to tread dangerous ground. So many legends had been told and retold across the long centuries and around the world that it could sometimes be difficult to find the thread of truth in the wild and fearful tales of reverence and heroics and tortures and death.

Gena blinked, almost dozing off there for a minute as the slight rocking rhythm of the train and the sounds of the wheels on the tracks seemed to lull her. She yawned, daintily covering her mouth with a hand then she stretched a bit" If this ride lasts much longer i am gonna fall asleep.." she says to her friend.
 
The man next to Gena is dark. Like many portraits of Native American warriors he seems to be carved from some dark wood; each of his features are over stated, but as a whole he radiates a solidness that most lack. One may even think that he is a statue if not his gentle breathing and fluttering of eyes under their lids. The only mark that shows his mixed heritage is veiled behind those lids. His eyes are that of a forest in a high storm. Ogaki sits next to Gena, but he is also hundreds of years and a thousand miles away. The war camp was scattered upon the hill. Fifty brave warriors lay dead under trees and one figure stood. She was a white devil with long blond hair. Her shirt covered with the warriors’ life essence darker than black in the moon’s half-light.

The devil smiled, “Ogaki…” her voice spoke my name in the Apalachee tongue, “Crow…” I was unnerved and threw my hand axe and it slammed into her chest. The devil just looked down and laughed.

Gena’s words pull Ogaki out of yesteryear and back to the train. He sits mountain still in winter, he opens his eyes open, only someone who knows him well can tell he is troubled. His dark walnut skin hides his flush and only a few frown lines mark his displeasure. It has been almost three hundred years and still his family’s massacre reminds him of his obligation to the dead. The blond vampire is still out there and his family’s spirits are restless.

Ogaki gently pats Gena’s arm. He cannot hide his affection for his friend so he gave up long ago. “Yes,” he stands “I heard there is a party three cars back…wanna crash it?” His smile is equal parts boyish charm and wise man’s gambit.
 
She grins and rises" Might as well" she says and stretches gracefully" Hopefully they haven`t gone through all the food and booze yet" she says with a playful look in her eye. Not that she was a heavy drinker but the occasional glass of wine or fruity drink with those little paper umbrellas were rather enjoyable. Plus, she had a need to eat and nourish her human side as much as she needed blood to nourish the vampire side of her nature. Of course she meant these unknown passengers no harm, but she supposed meandering on over to the party was a good distraction from boredom, from the lulling rhythm of the train and the dangers this journey could bring. If she did not get up and get moving even for a little bit then her tall and handsome friend was going to wind up being her pillow. Which, she supposed, wasn`t really a bad thing, it could probably be rather nice really.

This journey, this quest meant so much to him and in truth if the legend was in fact real and there was power to be had then she could benefit from it as well. One thing that worried her, however, was that power came at a price, that even if they beat any obstacle or trap set on the way that the power would not be taken without further consequences. She supposed it was a legitimate concern, but it was a risk, she hoped, that was worth taking. Ogaki had his enemy and Gena had hers. A fullblood, older than she and more powerful, one with a twisted, dark nature who would not leave her alone. He killed her beloved father long decades ago and like a bad penny turned up in her life every so often to worry and harass her untill a hard and bloody battle drove him off yet again. But each time it was harder. When Ogaki first put forth the idea of this quest she had been mostly in it for the adventure and too she did not want her friend to face such possible dangers alone and that was still a big part of it. But slowly it had started to creep into her mind that if she were indeed stronger than she could be rid of that bothersome fullblood and his unwanted advances , and avenge her father once and for all.

If the legends were true, if they could succeed.. if there were not too much hell to pay.
 
Ogaki leads Gena towards the backend of the train. He allowed his anticipation to pull his mouth into a smile. The railcar door opened to the shrill of a trumpet and accompanied by a drums and brass. The room was decorated in black and gold. A sign reading “A little party never killed nobody.” Sits at the entrance and a black woman in a flapper dress. In her case, it was sleeveless, sequenced, and bedecked in pearls. She looked earnest for the part, but Ogaki couldn’t help but feeling he walk in on kids dressing up in their parents’ clothes.

“Entry fee in three hundred, and tailors are on hand to assist you.” She pointed towards a small group of women taking measurements. Ogaki gives her his black American Express card which makes the pretty woman raise her brows. “Of course,” she looks at the card “Mr. Gerald Moore. Please follow me.”
 
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She followed him in, noting the decor and the clothing. It had been decades since shed worn the flapper look. Like most women shed tried the fashions of the times as they had come and gone. Some she liked, some.. not so much. One thing she never did was cut her hair for those odd little bobbed haircuts the ladies wore way back when. She loved her long red mane too much to chop it off. One good thing about living so long is it gave one a chance to accumulate a decent amount of money and valuables. There were, of course financial institutions to help supernatural beings make wise investments and set up multiple banking accounts and such like. And too, sometimes someone might do a little picking of the pockets, though she herself was not one to do that unless absolutely necessary.

She smiled at the party goers, the music and lights thumping and flashing and admittedly making her want to dance. " Oh i cant wait to see what kind of clothes they put you in" she says playfully to Ogaki.
 
The seamstress eyes Ogaki. “My sir you are something…” her voice trails off. He smiles politely and says “Silver and White.” Half of an hour later he stands waiting for Gena. A young lady walks toward Ogaki. She tries to be seductive in her walk, but it doesn’t faze him.

His cell chimes saving him from embarrassing her. The caller id is blank. He answers it with a sigh.

“Yes.”

“Elm, Tanner, Gooseberry.” A chipper voice chimes “Smithy, Oak, and blunderbuss.” The fey creature continues her greeting. He does his best to stifle his annoyance. “Falls, Sword-leaf, Winter Kiss.” A pause.

“Lethanna,” Ogaki’s voice is calm, mellow, and deep. “is there news?”

“Heya, Crowman.” Bell says “I have two pieces for you; one bright as a shiny penny and one hidden in the shade of a lover’s smile. Both for the price of one M-class favor.”
Ogaki lets her stew for a moment. The Fey are creatures of barter and compromises, she will expect to dicker for hours over the price and finally settle in the sweet spot. A favor is the last thing he wanted to offer up to a fey. He argued price for ten minutes before settling on a bottle of Agor’s best circa 980 BC.

“The shiny news is the Dún Seo Caite’s fall. The last elven family’s stronghold was destroyed this morning. No survivors, nor significant evidence.” She let the news sink in. The Dún Seo Caite were not just elves, there was a dozen other races of lore struggling to survive. Their fortifications were the best, and ancient magical wards were supposed to repel all dangers.

“Was there signs of a struggle?” Ogaki asks.

“Well…” she clears her voice. “No bodies, but my contact did say there was enough blood to fill an Olympic size pool.”

“What is the other news?” Ogaki sends a prey to the ancestor spirits to be good news.

“I have a lead for your hobby. A Vladdy thing.” Ogaki’s indrawn breath was loud in his ears. “Yep. There is word that an ancient has roosted down in Savannah. No clue on who and what.”
Ogaki couldn’t help but sigh. The American South is a cesspit of old Vampire covens acting like they control the world. The covens are led by a “noble” who hold territory and were just plain asses. Plus, purebloods tried to enslave half-bloods at any given moment. We are perfect day-guards for the walking torches.

Gena walks out of the tailors looking amazing and he quickly gets off the phone.

When she approaches he fills her in on the news.
 
Gena emerged looking like a fashion plate from ancient times. She looked like a roman empress in fine rich fabrics that clung to her curves and floated delicately around her dainty sdandaled feed. Her long red tresses were piled loosely atop her head upon which an ornate looking circlet sat and whisps of hair framed her pretty face and tickled the back of her neck. Gena saw him on the phone and knew he was troubled. She also knew there was an interested female floating about that he was trying to politely ignore.

When his call ended and she came over she linked her arm with his and smiled, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek" Oh sweetie, you look gorgeus" she says, trying to get the woman to move along. She whispers into his ear," Whats wrong"?

When she hears about the Elves she pales a little, reeling and feeling a bit ill. " Dear god a mighty.." she breathes. She rather liked Elves, they were full of grace and beauty. That the stronghold fell so easily horrifide and shocked her. How? Who? Why? The questions screamed in her mind.

When she heard the next bit of news she was a little excited but also apprehensive. The south, in and of itself, she liked a great deal. The small towns laid back people and great food. But the resident Vampires could be a huge pain in the ass." Well.. fuck" she grumbles.
 
The band slows down into a nice lovers’ pace. Ogaki offers Gena his hand to dance. As they glide over to the dance floor he lays out their options. He can only see two, but Gena had the ability to find angles in complex issues that he envied.

“We can either investigate the Savannah lead or go to the massacre site.” Ogaki sighs. “Each has potential…I hope the Savannah will led to a crown, but honestly…” he let his words fall away. "Beautiful gown... by the way."
 
" Why thank you kind sir" she grins, speaking in a southern drawl. Originally Gena was from good old mother England, but shed spent time in the southern US. Despite the dangers from fellow vampirics she did like the south . But still, the Elves.

" I am torn, i do love good old southern cooking. Mint juleps and cherry cobbler with ice cream on a warm summer night." she says with a smile "The massacre frightens me, there are so many unknowns. Hunters do not normally go after Elves. Vampires yes, Lycans , of course. Dhampirs too if they are kicking up a lot of shit but Elves? And the strength it must have taken to do what was done, to get past their strongholds and wards. Who might they come for next? " she says, wondering what sort of creatures or people could have done this.

" Ogaki, could it be related to our quest? Could someone already have the crown, or a part of it. Some legends say it was broken in two, others dismiss that but really who known. Vlad might have done it to keep his power safe but half a crown could still be deadly" she whispers as they dance.
 
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