You've had some pretty weird nights in the past. Some *really* weird nights, in fact. Some...
Bite (In Which An Unfortunate Vampire Has An Unfortunate Time)
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User Total TheNine 26
Chapter One: In which we are introduced to a certain vampire
TheNine
I’ll compromise with the skeletons
- Location
- The good ol' US of A
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You've had some pretty weird nights in the past. Some *really* weird nights, in fact. Some nights so weird you can hardly even believe that they happened. But tonight was, even in that context, one of the most unusual experiences you've ever had the marginal pleasure of being amused by. You muse back on it as you recline in your bed, preparing to rest, probably for a week or so. What a night...
You woke up just under a month before that night, and had only fed once since then, so when you headed out tonight, just after sunset, you knew you'd have to rest again soon if you were to keep your thirst in check. Getting a good week or so of sleep always curbed your appetite, and helped keep citizens from panicking at the thought that a vampire might be among them. Of course, it was hard to hide your existence entirely, but if nothing else you managed to keep the government's eyes on bigger threats. When one person a month shows up to the hospital with a nasty headache and a bad case of anemia, no one loses their heads, and you get to keep your heart. A win-win for everyone. Except for the poor guy you drained, but if he has good insurance, he should be fine too.
Today, though, your appetite was only a dull hum, and you didn't have to worry about much before you headed out on your freelance job. It's tough to find a gig that'll hire someone who sleeps for a week at a time and only comes out at night, but, as you discovered a good while back, not impossible- and considering how rare a resource someone with your particular "skillset" is, that kind of a job is mercifully hard to loose. Not to mention, of course, quite well-paying. Work went as usual that day, but it was on your way back home early that morning that something dramatically unusual happened. As you strolled casually through a cute little shopping district, you heard several shrill screams, obviously female, ringing from behind you.
As you turned, you saw three women, wearing terrified faces and tears in their eyes, rushing towards you- and then past you, almost as if you didn't exist. They clearly had something more important to worry about. And right behind them, you saw what that was. A shambling man, wearing shoddy clothes and apparently also soaked in a good bit of blood- whether it was his or someone else's wasn't immediately clear. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, and his jaw hung slack.
Now, far be it from you to be a white knight, but a sight like that, in your city, was simply disgraceful. A man like that, chasing innocent women down the street? Ridiculous. You stepped into the man's path, raising a hand to block him.
"Alright, stop right there. I know you probably-"
And that was as far as you got before he practically leaped forward, slamming his teeth down on your right arm. What in the hell did this goddamned hobo think he was doing? While you'd largely foresworn murdering civilians back when it first became possible to feed from someone without killing them, you felt that this circumstance was a fine time to make an exception. You stepped forward, slamming your arm into his lower jaw with inhuman strength, leaving it hanging by a few pieces of tattered, bloody skin, otherwise almost entirely severed. That, of course, was the least of his problems. The force you applied to his jaw hadn't stopped there, and had utterly shattered his neck as well, leaving him to drop like a rock.
Never one to waste a meal, you glanced from side-to-side to see if anyone was in the line of sight, before unhinging your jaw and slamming your fangs into his neck, quickly draining his blood directly from his carotid. It wasn't like he'd have much use for it.
It was only after you'd drained a good gulp or two that you actually tasted his blood, and almost immediately wretched, before vomiting, letting loose a good supply of both his crimson blood and your black. It tasted awful. It tasted almost like a vampire's blood, equally unpalatable. And now that you looked at it, his "red" blood cells evidently weren't doing a very good job, because his bleeding neck and jaw looked less like "crimson lifeblood" and more like "off-purple paste." There was something strongly wrong with this man, and though he obviously wasn't a vampire, he reminded you of one in more ways than one.
Even more ways, when you realized he was still alive. Despite his broken neck, obliterated jaw, and paralyzed lower body, his eyes still swiveled to look at you, and a soft moaning emerged from his open throat. Badly unnerved, you didn't know quite what to do until you heard the approaching sirens. You didn't know whether they were headed for you or not, but you weren't going to risk being falsely accused of murder (again! Idiots!), and quickly fled the scene, back to your isolated home.
Once you got there, you calmed down. You'd encountered plenty of supernatural creatures in your day. This thing was probably just some sort of failed quasi-vampire. Disgusting, but nothing for you to worry about. After all, you'd seen it all before.
As you lay in bed, back in the present, you think back on your life before tonight, and how much you've been through. You are -
[] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
[] 265 years old, one of the first American vampires, turned during the Revolution in New Orleans, along with many of the other old bloods.
[] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
[] Just 36. You were 16 when you were turned. It was 1995, and you haven't aged a day since then. You're basically a newborn as far as vampires are concerned, but you've done fairly well for yourself.
You woke up just under a month before that night, and had only fed once since then, so when you headed out tonight, just after sunset, you knew you'd have to rest again soon if you were to keep your thirst in check. Getting a good week or so of sleep always curbed your appetite, and helped keep citizens from panicking at the thought that a vampire might be among them. Of course, it was hard to hide your existence entirely, but if nothing else you managed to keep the government's eyes on bigger threats. When one person a month shows up to the hospital with a nasty headache and a bad case of anemia, no one loses their heads, and you get to keep your heart. A win-win for everyone. Except for the poor guy you drained, but if he has good insurance, he should be fine too.
Today, though, your appetite was only a dull hum, and you didn't have to worry about much before you headed out on your freelance job. It's tough to find a gig that'll hire someone who sleeps for a week at a time and only comes out at night, but, as you discovered a good while back, not impossible- and considering how rare a resource someone with your particular "skillset" is, that kind of a job is mercifully hard to loose. Not to mention, of course, quite well-paying. Work went as usual that day, but it was on your way back home early that morning that something dramatically unusual happened. As you strolled casually through a cute little shopping district, you heard several shrill screams, obviously female, ringing from behind you.
As you turned, you saw three women, wearing terrified faces and tears in their eyes, rushing towards you- and then past you, almost as if you didn't exist. They clearly had something more important to worry about. And right behind them, you saw what that was. A shambling man, wearing shoddy clothes and apparently also soaked in a good bit of blood- whether it was his or someone else's wasn't immediately clear. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, and his jaw hung slack.
Now, far be it from you to be a white knight, but a sight like that, in your city, was simply disgraceful. A man like that, chasing innocent women down the street? Ridiculous. You stepped into the man's path, raising a hand to block him.
"Alright, stop right there. I know you probably-"
And that was as far as you got before he practically leaped forward, slamming his teeth down on your right arm. What in the hell did this goddamned hobo think he was doing? While you'd largely foresworn murdering civilians back when it first became possible to feed from someone without killing them, you felt that this circumstance was a fine time to make an exception. You stepped forward, slamming your arm into his lower jaw with inhuman strength, leaving it hanging by a few pieces of tattered, bloody skin, otherwise almost entirely severed. That, of course, was the least of his problems. The force you applied to his jaw hadn't stopped there, and had utterly shattered his neck as well, leaving him to drop like a rock.
Never one to waste a meal, you glanced from side-to-side to see if anyone was in the line of sight, before unhinging your jaw and slamming your fangs into his neck, quickly draining his blood directly from his carotid. It wasn't like he'd have much use for it.
It was only after you'd drained a good gulp or two that you actually tasted his blood, and almost immediately wretched, before vomiting, letting loose a good supply of both his crimson blood and your black. It tasted awful. It tasted almost like a vampire's blood, equally unpalatable. And now that you looked at it, his "red" blood cells evidently weren't doing a very good job, because his bleeding neck and jaw looked less like "crimson lifeblood" and more like "off-purple paste." There was something strongly wrong with this man, and though he obviously wasn't a vampire, he reminded you of one in more ways than one.
Even more ways, when you realized he was still alive. Despite his broken neck, obliterated jaw, and paralyzed lower body, his eyes still swiveled to look at you, and a soft moaning emerged from his open throat. Badly unnerved, you didn't know quite what to do until you heard the approaching sirens. You didn't know whether they were headed for you or not, but you weren't going to risk being falsely accused of murder (again! Idiots!), and quickly fled the scene, back to your isolated home.
Once you got there, you calmed down. You'd encountered plenty of supernatural creatures in your day. This thing was probably just some sort of failed quasi-vampire. Disgusting, but nothing for you to worry about. After all, you'd seen it all before.
As you lay in bed, back in the present, you think back on your life before tonight, and how much you've been through. You are -
[] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
[] 265 years old, one of the first American vampires, turned during the Revolution in New Orleans, along with many of the other old bloods.
[] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
[] Just 36. You were 16 when you were turned. It was 1995, and you haven't aged a day since then. You're basically a newborn as far as vampires are concerned, but you've done fairly well for yourself.
pantherasapiens
you were always my best friend
- Location
- somewhere over your shoulder
[X] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
DeepWaters
No one will be the wiser.
- Location
- Land of Spiders and Shipping Charts
[X] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
36 is a hard sell from someone who claims to have "seen it all before". I suppose we could just be really arrogant-- having your developmental period forever stuck in mid-puberty certainly makes that a lot more believable than it would be otherwise, but pseudo-teenage vampires are just... meh. (Not that it's guaranteed the other options aren't pseudo-teenagers, but at least I can avoid the one that's explicit about it.) 600 is certainly more believable when it comes to that claim, but I feel doubtful about the chances of a centuries-old predator really caring that much about a couple of random human women panicking over a hobo (even if they did swear off murder).
265 and 150 strike me as the more believable ages. Judging by the wording, 265 puts us on par with most older vampires, so I could buy the initial claim being a reasonably accurate assessment of our experience. On the other hand, 150 is old enough to matter in vampire years, yet young enough for the claim to come off as interestingly overconfident, and the extra backstory detail is a plus. Plus, the slightly chivalrous attitude sounds about right for someone originally of that place and time.
In completely unrelated news: overanalyzing minutia to rationalize a choice you made based entirely on your first whim is great fun, thanks.
36 is a hard sell from someone who claims to have "seen it all before". I suppose we could just be really arrogant-- having your developmental period forever stuck in mid-puberty certainly makes that a lot more believable than it would be otherwise, but pseudo-teenage vampires are just... meh. (Not that it's guaranteed the other options aren't pseudo-teenagers, but at least I can avoid the one that's explicit about it.) 600 is certainly more believable when it comes to that claim, but I feel doubtful about the chances of a centuries-old predator really caring that much about a couple of random human women panicking over a hobo (even if they did swear off murder).
265 and 150 strike me as the more believable ages. Judging by the wording, 265 puts us on par with most older vampires, so I could buy the initial claim being a reasonably accurate assessment of our experience. On the other hand, 150 is old enough to matter in vampire years, yet young enough for the claim to come off as interestingly overconfident, and the extra backstory detail is a plus. Plus, the slightly chivalrous attitude sounds about right for someone originally of that place and time.
In completely unrelated news: overanalyzing minutia to rationalize a choice you made based entirely on your first whim is great fun, thanks.
- Location
- Postcard from the Root
[X] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
TheNine
I’ll compromise with the skeletons
- Location
- The good ol' US of A
- Pronouns
- He/Him
For the record, I did my best to make the first post time-period neutral, but obviously it wasn't perfect. Originally I was gonna call the "hobo" a "ruffian," but then I realized it would make literally no sense for a teenager from the 80s to use the word "ruffian." Any more critiques are more than welcome, I quite appreciate them.
AnimalKrazed
Caw Caw!
- Location
- Above You
[x] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
- Location
- My Basement
[x] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
- Location
- Sydney
[X] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
- Location
- Rockford, USA
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
Because I wanna see Dracula, in all his splendor, kicking the shit out of some zombies.
Because I wanna see Dracula, in all his splendor, kicking the shit out of some zombies.
- Location
- PA
[X] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
Because I do not trust SV with driving a Dracula around, that sounds like it'd end in tears, and Twilight did enough damage.
Because I do not trust SV with driving a Dracula around, that sounds like it'd end in tears, and Twilight did enough damage.
Darik29
Verified Delicious
[x] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
Old ass cranky vamp who enjoys life, and doesn't have no time to deal with these damn Zombies!
Old ass cranky vamp who enjoys life, and doesn't have no time to deal with these damn Zombies!
[x] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
"Ah, necromancy, I bethought that it, how you say it?, departed out of style few centures ago, but here we art."
"No, they are virus carriers! It's a purely scientific phenomenon!"
"Bah! Biochimery, necromancy, all arcane is the same."
- Location
- Who Knows
I'm laughing at the idea of a chuunibyou vampire, and so!
[X] Just 36. You were 16 when you were turned. It was 1995, and you haven't aged a day since then. You're basically a newborn as far as vampires are concerned, but you've done fairly well for yourself.
[X] Just 36. You were 16 when you were turned. It was 1995, and you haven't aged a day since then. You're basically a newborn as far as vampires are concerned, but you've done fairly well for yourself.
- Location
- USA
[x] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.
Astra Myst
Do you want a wish?
- Location
- Milky Way Galaxy
[X] 150. You were turned in England in 1887, before the bloodlust caused you to kill your father and brother, thus forcing you to move to America, where you've lived since.
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
[X] One old bastard. You've been around since Wallachia, and were going on 600 years old. You had a bit of trouble adapting to the modern world (and all the other worlds before it,) but you've made out pretty well.