- Location
- Somewhere in the area
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
[X] Before you bring home the food, get blood. Sniff out some other poor survivor and suck. Them. Dry. You've held back far too long, and you need a proper meal.
Bite (In Which An Unfortunate Vampire Has An Unfortunate Time)
Chapter 15: In which we get another named character I'm on fire tonight boiiiiiiiiis
TheNine
I’ll compromise with the skeletons
- Location
- The good ol' US of A
- Pronouns
- He/Him
As much as you'd like to go home, flop down dramatically on a couch, bleed on everyone's things, and bemoan the state of the world, you realize it would almost definitely be more productive for you to head out, find a human, and feed. You return to where you threw off your coat, pull it out of a pile of assorted foodstuffs that collapsed on it during the fight, and set it near where you left the bags of food. You'll come back for the lot of them after you've healed your countless debilitating wounds.
Well, not countless. The eye is healing, and besides that, you've got the shot to the gut, one through the intestines, and the ball that he slammed into your temple. You don't feel an agonizing, searing pain there, so you assume the ball must've fallen out at some point. Lucky you. While you're collecting your stuff, you check Ali's corpse. He had a musket pouch hanging from his belt loop that you didn't notice earlier and alongside it a small bottle of gunpowder. He had two shots left, and you crushed one of them inside his gun when you destroyed its barrel, which means he brought six. You scoff. Six bullets to kill you?
You check out his musket. The only damage you did to it is to the barrel, which can be repaired. Though you don't actually have a need for the old, antique gun, fixing it might give you something to fill a few nights of boredom, though at this rate it seems like you won't have many of those in the upcoming days. At least not if the last couple of nights have set any precedent. You take his musket and the two remaining bullets (better in your hands than someone else's) and the third, crushed ball as well, by proxy. You set them nearby your coat and the bags of food, but place them under some of the fallen foodstuffs, so as to keep them from being visible to any average passerby.
You hear mindless moaning approaching from several directions. Obviously, the fuckers were attracted by the gunfire. Your rage has largely worn off to be replaced by pain and exhaustion. You're in no mood to violently dissect anyone else at the moment- at least not anyone else without a working circulatory system. You silently slip past the zombies, leaving them to fruitlessly search the grocery store for any living humans, and move on. Your bad eye is beginning to regain its ability to recognize colors and different levels of light, but you still can't make out any shapes. Give it a bit of time and it'll be fine. In the meantime, your brain is also on its way to regenerating, but you haven't noticed many cranial functions missing other than a horrible empty ache in your skull. Maybe you can't tell because you're brain-damaged?
What you do know is that your eye socket will be the last thing to mend itself, at least among your "secular" wounds. Bone always takes the longest to grow back when it's been removed from the body. However, with such relatively small wounds (only losing a few cubic centimeters of bone,) it shouldn't take more than... ten minutes at the longest to regenerate, even considering your silver-inflicted wounds slowing things quite dramatically.
You activate your Bloodsense and scramble to the roof of a building, your wounds weakening you such that you doubt your ability to make it to the top in one jump. You move along the rooftops, using both your bloodsense and your nose to try to detect the nearest living humans. It's almost discouraging. You've traveled over a kilometer before you find a single pair of them... no, a trio. One of them is dying. You can sense his fading heartbeat in the building directly beneath you. You're preparing to leap down to the floor of the building to see what's going on when you suddenly hear a burst of noise that's unmistakable- someone's firing an automatic weapon.
This is even more urgent than you suspected. If firearms are being discharged, then these mortals could die very quickly, and once their hearts stop beating, they're no good to you.
You land hard, nearly collapsing to your knees. You feel unbearably weak and turn to the building. You see its door has been smashed through- what a strangely ubiquitous sight in this town at a time like this. You rush inside, more than prepared to leap on top of some assailed human so as to keep his life to yourself.
And then you see what's attacking them. Not other mortals, not the so-called "zombies." Four figures are in this room. Two living humans, both holding what you recognize as semi-modern assault rifles, one dead, torn in half at the waist-
And a female figure, full of bullet wounds, all leaking black blood. A vampire!
She dives at one of the surviving humans, her fangs sinking into his neck. In no more than a second or two, his body goes limp, and you can see the light go out in his eyes. Though his heart will continue beating for a few moments, his assailant is done with him, tearing out a chunk of his throat as she pulls away and turns toward his mortified ally. She steps toward him, and you speak.
You haven't heard your voice since you killed the Janissary. You sound even weaker than you feel.
"Please don't. I need him more than you do."
You feel like a beggar. A helpless child, forced to ask charity from others. "Mortals are in short supply in this town."
She turns, staring at you in confusion for a split second. "Who the- wait, are you- you're- y-"
She stammers for a few moments, one revelation after another interrupting her own train of thought. At first, she has to comprehend that you're there, to her utter surprise, then that you're heavily wounded, then that you're a vampire, and then-
"Count Zelemir!?"
Your eyes go a bit wide. "You... know me?"
"You sorry fuck, of course I'do! Zelemir, I know you! Y'know me! I'm Isbeil! Baroness Isbeil, we met in Hungary!"
You blink in confusion once, then twice. Then recognition spreads across your face, and a wide grin quickly follows it. "Isbeil, I hardly recognized you in the civilian clothes!"
The two of you rush forward and embrace, a display of physical affection that's common among familiar vampires. "I haven't heard a word from you since... since your telegram in the forties! When did you come to America?"
"Less'n a decade ago! Hunters were comin' after me hard, so I stowed away on a wee fishin' boat, killed the poor bastards on it, and headed straight for the USA. Ah fuck, man, I had no idea ye were livin' so close to the coast."
"I wasn't when we last communicated. Hell, I was much farther inland then. My God, how have you been?"
She steps away suddenly, looking over your sorry state.
"How the fuck've you been? You look like someone chewed y'up and spit y'out! To put a metaphor out of its misery, ye look like fuckin' shite, Zelemir. What happened to you?"
"Would you believe me if I said-"
Your clearly heartfelt reunion is suddenly interrupted by a spray of bullets that send the both of you staggering backward into a wall. You're suddenly glad you decided not to bring your coat with you. The both of you fall to your knees as the surviving human throws down his empty gun and runs like the Devil out the door. Isbeil, in better shape than you, has already gotten to her feet by the time you start peeling your sorry ass off of the floor, hacking up your own tarlike blood.
"N-no. I want him. Let me have him!"
She nods. She's obviously as eager to kill the bastard as you are, but she recognizes that you're in worse shape. You make it to your feet and begin sprinting- well, limping after the escaping human. His own volley managed to somewhat impede you, but even at your agonized limp, you're easily fast enough to quickly outrun him. You leap through the air and land on top of him, gripping him with one hand on his shoulder and one in his hair.
"No, no man, please, PLEASE, PL- AUUUUUUUUGHHHHH!!"
Your fangs sink into his jugular, his heart pumping his lifeblood directly to you. You partake of him desperately, like an animal, devouring every piece of him, draining every drop. By the time you're done, he's a nearly colorless, motionless husk. You let him go, stepping backward a few inches. Despite your lack of a need for air, you've begun instinctively gasping. Almost immediately, all the pain in your body has evaporated like it was never there. You can think completely clearly. Your vision is perfect. You haven't felt this good in decades.
What a fucking high! It'd been so damn long since you'd completely drained someone that you had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt! How exhilarating it was to be so completely and utterly filled with energy. You feel like you could win a staring contest with the sun.
In a few seconds, the high is mostly gone. You still feel fantastic, of course, you still can't feel even the slightest hint of pain, but you no longer feel like screaming Bible verses into the sky just to spite God Almighty and prove you can. No, now you're feeling a bit more reasonable.
You turn back toward the building you came from, where you see that Isbeil is approaching you, most of her wounds having disappeared much the same yours did, though certainly not quite so quickly as yours did.
"Ah, Baroness, thank you. I haven't felt like this in decades."
She grins, coming closer. "I'm sure ye haven't. Now tell me, dammit. The fuck happened to ye? Ye're a fuckin' second-generation vampire. What the fuck could have fucked ye up that badly?"
"Well, as I was going to tell you before that poor idiot so rudely interrupted me, I was actually attacked by a Janissary."
She frowns. "Ye're not gonnae believe this, Zelemir, but ye aren't the first."
"Hm?"
"All over the world, vampires are sendin' out reports that they're bein' attacked by people who claim to be resurrected Janissaries. They're rarely successful, but I've heard tell of a couple of 'em successfully killin' or capturin' vampires. Obviously not first gen like yerself, but still..."
You muse on this for a moment. Vampires all over the globe, being systematically targeted? It seems unlikely, but you've never knwon Isbeil to lie to you, and it makes as much sense as just one of them coming back to target you personally. "Did the majority of them carry holy silver bullets?"
"Aye. Usually only one though, is what I heard. Ye look like ye took..."
"Three. He had three shots and used all of them."
"Aye. Must've been a nasty scrap."
"It would have been easier if I'd attacked him outright. Instead, we spoke first. I rather arrogantly let him get his sights on me before I attacked. Have you been attacked?"
"Well, I was s'post'a be."
She grins, smug as a kid stealing from a candy store. "I got the drop on mine. He never saw it comin'."
You chuckle. That certainly does sound like Isbeil. Never eager to let the other guy have the initiative. "When did the first... reports come in? Of the attacks?"
"Few days ago. After this whole "walking dead" thing started. Obviously they're connected, aye?"
"That does seem obvious, yes. Though I can't conceive of how they could be caused by the same party."
She nods. "I'm still tryin' to figure it out meself. You stayin' in town for the time bein'?"
"Asofar as I know, yes."
"Then we've gottae meet up more often. Right now, moonlight's burnin', and believe it or not, I've actually got somewhere I've gotta be. It was legitimately great tae see ya again, Count. Been too long."
You chuckle. "Without a doubt, Baroness Isbeil. You never did work on that accent of yours did you?"
"Ah, hell nae. Shit gives me character. I'll see ya when I'm less busy, Zel. Sniff each other out tomorrow night?"
"Sounds like a plan. Don't overhunt, alright? Mortals are rarer than ever these days, and I'd hate for myself or anyone else to be left thirsty."
"Got it. Speakin' of, I was talkin' to some people. "Coalation" of vampires. Called 'emselves "BITE." Got in contact with me via a messenger, and for all I know the son of a bitch was makin' it all up, but he said they were plannin' on, ah, makin' "farms" and shite. Since humans are gettin' so rare, he said they s'posed we had oughta... stick t'gether and keep ourselves a solid food supply."
"The plan isn't a new one. It's been tried before without much success."
"Aye, but back those times humanity wasn't too busy eatin' each other to try to fight back." She winks. "We'll discuss it when we got more time. Till then, Count Zelemir. Ta-ta!"
With that, she turns around and leaps through the air, disappearing into the shadows. You chuckle, before turning back to the drained husk you left behind. To your mind surprise, it's begun trying to get up. You check your arm, finding that the scar is utterly gone. Evidently, draining blood was indeed what you needed to get over the effects of the bite, but draining someone was enough to infect them in turn. Lucky you didn't try to drain one of your allies first. You stomp the husk's skull. Its *pop* is actually quite satisfying.
Speaking of "bite," though, was she serious about that? An organization of vampires called, of all things, "BITE?" That sounded less like a real thing and more something that some juvenile mortal idiot would write about. You shrug, heading back to the grocery store, where you regain your coat, the bags of food you'd collected, and the late Janissary's ammunition and musket.
With that, you head home. A few seconds and about as many city blocks later, you step through the wrecked door and find that your group has at least vaguely attempted to barricade it, having set down an upturned desk in the hallway. You aren't certain it'd keep out zombies, but at the very least it might slow them down. You head down to the cafeteria, throwing down the food you've collected. The hospital is mostly silent. Evidently, everyone is catching up on their rest.
[] Take it easy and rest until people begin to wake up. No need to push yourself any further.
[] Head back out and look for-
- [] More food for the humans
- [] More survivors, either for blood sources or more roomies
- [] Weapons for the humans
- [] Signs of other vampires or Janissaries. Apparently, this town is more crowded than you thought it was.
[] Check on James and wake him if he's sleeping. Why not inform him of the day's events?
[] Check on Alice and wake her if she's sleeping. Why not inform her of the day's events?
[] Head out and fucking purge some undead. No better night for a Hunt than now.
[] Write in...
Well, not countless. The eye is healing, and besides that, you've got the shot to the gut, one through the intestines, and the ball that he slammed into your temple. You don't feel an agonizing, searing pain there, so you assume the ball must've fallen out at some point. Lucky you. While you're collecting your stuff, you check Ali's corpse. He had a musket pouch hanging from his belt loop that you didn't notice earlier and alongside it a small bottle of gunpowder. He had two shots left, and you crushed one of them inside his gun when you destroyed its barrel, which means he brought six. You scoff. Six bullets to kill you?
You check out his musket. The only damage you did to it is to the barrel, which can be repaired. Though you don't actually have a need for the old, antique gun, fixing it might give you something to fill a few nights of boredom, though at this rate it seems like you won't have many of those in the upcoming days. At least not if the last couple of nights have set any precedent. You take his musket and the two remaining bullets (better in your hands than someone else's) and the third, crushed ball as well, by proxy. You set them nearby your coat and the bags of food, but place them under some of the fallen foodstuffs, so as to keep them from being visible to any average passerby.
You hear mindless moaning approaching from several directions. Obviously, the fuckers were attracted by the gunfire. Your rage has largely worn off to be replaced by pain and exhaustion. You're in no mood to violently dissect anyone else at the moment- at least not anyone else without a working circulatory system. You silently slip past the zombies, leaving them to fruitlessly search the grocery store for any living humans, and move on. Your bad eye is beginning to regain its ability to recognize colors and different levels of light, but you still can't make out any shapes. Give it a bit of time and it'll be fine. In the meantime, your brain is also on its way to regenerating, but you haven't noticed many cranial functions missing other than a horrible empty ache in your skull. Maybe you can't tell because you're brain-damaged?
What you do know is that your eye socket will be the last thing to mend itself, at least among your "secular" wounds. Bone always takes the longest to grow back when it's been removed from the body. However, with such relatively small wounds (only losing a few cubic centimeters of bone,) it shouldn't take more than... ten minutes at the longest to regenerate, even considering your silver-inflicted wounds slowing things quite dramatically.
You activate your Bloodsense and scramble to the roof of a building, your wounds weakening you such that you doubt your ability to make it to the top in one jump. You move along the rooftops, using both your bloodsense and your nose to try to detect the nearest living humans. It's almost discouraging. You've traveled over a kilometer before you find a single pair of them... no, a trio. One of them is dying. You can sense his fading heartbeat in the building directly beneath you. You're preparing to leap down to the floor of the building to see what's going on when you suddenly hear a burst of noise that's unmistakable- someone's firing an automatic weapon.
This is even more urgent than you suspected. If firearms are being discharged, then these mortals could die very quickly, and once their hearts stop beating, they're no good to you.
You land hard, nearly collapsing to your knees. You feel unbearably weak and turn to the building. You see its door has been smashed through- what a strangely ubiquitous sight in this town at a time like this. You rush inside, more than prepared to leap on top of some assailed human so as to keep his life to yourself.
And then you see what's attacking them. Not other mortals, not the so-called "zombies." Four figures are in this room. Two living humans, both holding what you recognize as semi-modern assault rifles, one dead, torn in half at the waist-
And a female figure, full of bullet wounds, all leaking black blood. A vampire!
She dives at one of the surviving humans, her fangs sinking into his neck. In no more than a second or two, his body goes limp, and you can see the light go out in his eyes. Though his heart will continue beating for a few moments, his assailant is done with him, tearing out a chunk of his throat as she pulls away and turns toward his mortified ally. She steps toward him, and you speak.
You haven't heard your voice since you killed the Janissary. You sound even weaker than you feel.
"Please don't. I need him more than you do."
You feel like a beggar. A helpless child, forced to ask charity from others. "Mortals are in short supply in this town."
She turns, staring at you in confusion for a split second. "Who the- wait, are you- you're- y-"
She stammers for a few moments, one revelation after another interrupting her own train of thought. At first, she has to comprehend that you're there, to her utter surprise, then that you're heavily wounded, then that you're a vampire, and then-
"Count Zelemir!?"
Your eyes go a bit wide. "You... know me?"
"You sorry fuck, of course I'do! Zelemir, I know you! Y'know me! I'm Isbeil! Baroness Isbeil, we met in Hungary!"
You blink in confusion once, then twice. Then recognition spreads across your face, and a wide grin quickly follows it. "Isbeil, I hardly recognized you in the civilian clothes!"
The two of you rush forward and embrace, a display of physical affection that's common among familiar vampires. "I haven't heard a word from you since... since your telegram in the forties! When did you come to America?"
"Less'n a decade ago! Hunters were comin' after me hard, so I stowed away on a wee fishin' boat, killed the poor bastards on it, and headed straight for the USA. Ah fuck, man, I had no idea ye were livin' so close to the coast."
"I wasn't when we last communicated. Hell, I was much farther inland then. My God, how have you been?"
She steps away suddenly, looking over your sorry state.
"How the fuck've you been? You look like someone chewed y'up and spit y'out! To put a metaphor out of its misery, ye look like fuckin' shite, Zelemir. What happened to you?"
"Would you believe me if I said-"
Your clearly heartfelt reunion is suddenly interrupted by a spray of bullets that send the both of you staggering backward into a wall. You're suddenly glad you decided not to bring your coat with you. The both of you fall to your knees as the surviving human throws down his empty gun and runs like the Devil out the door. Isbeil, in better shape than you, has already gotten to her feet by the time you start peeling your sorry ass off of the floor, hacking up your own tarlike blood.
"N-no. I want him. Let me have him!"
She nods. She's obviously as eager to kill the bastard as you are, but she recognizes that you're in worse shape. You make it to your feet and begin sprinting- well, limping after the escaping human. His own volley managed to somewhat impede you, but even at your agonized limp, you're easily fast enough to quickly outrun him. You leap through the air and land on top of him, gripping him with one hand on his shoulder and one in his hair.
"No, no man, please, PLEASE, PL- AUUUUUUUUGHHHHH!!"
Your fangs sink into his jugular, his heart pumping his lifeblood directly to you. You partake of him desperately, like an animal, devouring every piece of him, draining every drop. By the time you're done, he's a nearly colorless, motionless husk. You let him go, stepping backward a few inches. Despite your lack of a need for air, you've begun instinctively gasping. Almost immediately, all the pain in your body has evaporated like it was never there. You can think completely clearly. Your vision is perfect. You haven't felt this good in decades.
What a fucking high! It'd been so damn long since you'd completely drained someone that you had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt! How exhilarating it was to be so completely and utterly filled with energy. You feel like you could win a staring contest with the sun.
In a few seconds, the high is mostly gone. You still feel fantastic, of course, you still can't feel even the slightest hint of pain, but you no longer feel like screaming Bible verses into the sky just to spite God Almighty and prove you can. No, now you're feeling a bit more reasonable.
You turn back toward the building you came from, where you see that Isbeil is approaching you, most of her wounds having disappeared much the same yours did, though certainly not quite so quickly as yours did.
"Ah, Baroness, thank you. I haven't felt like this in decades."
She grins, coming closer. "I'm sure ye haven't. Now tell me, dammit. The fuck happened to ye? Ye're a fuckin' second-generation vampire. What the fuck could have fucked ye up that badly?"
"Well, as I was going to tell you before that poor idiot so rudely interrupted me, I was actually attacked by a Janissary."
She frowns. "Ye're not gonnae believe this, Zelemir, but ye aren't the first."
"Hm?"
"All over the world, vampires are sendin' out reports that they're bein' attacked by people who claim to be resurrected Janissaries. They're rarely successful, but I've heard tell of a couple of 'em successfully killin' or capturin' vampires. Obviously not first gen like yerself, but still..."
You muse on this for a moment. Vampires all over the globe, being systematically targeted? It seems unlikely, but you've never knwon Isbeil to lie to you, and it makes as much sense as just one of them coming back to target you personally. "Did the majority of them carry holy silver bullets?"
"Aye. Usually only one though, is what I heard. Ye look like ye took..."
"Three. He had three shots and used all of them."
"Aye. Must've been a nasty scrap."
"It would have been easier if I'd attacked him outright. Instead, we spoke first. I rather arrogantly let him get his sights on me before I attacked. Have you been attacked?"
"Well, I was s'post'a be."
She grins, smug as a kid stealing from a candy store. "I got the drop on mine. He never saw it comin'."
You chuckle. That certainly does sound like Isbeil. Never eager to let the other guy have the initiative. "When did the first... reports come in? Of the attacks?"
"Few days ago. After this whole "walking dead" thing started. Obviously they're connected, aye?"
"That does seem obvious, yes. Though I can't conceive of how they could be caused by the same party."
She nods. "I'm still tryin' to figure it out meself. You stayin' in town for the time bein'?"
"Asofar as I know, yes."
"Then we've gottae meet up more often. Right now, moonlight's burnin', and believe it or not, I've actually got somewhere I've gotta be. It was legitimately great tae see ya again, Count. Been too long."
You chuckle. "Without a doubt, Baroness Isbeil. You never did work on that accent of yours did you?"
"Ah, hell nae. Shit gives me character. I'll see ya when I'm less busy, Zel. Sniff each other out tomorrow night?"
"Sounds like a plan. Don't overhunt, alright? Mortals are rarer than ever these days, and I'd hate for myself or anyone else to be left thirsty."
"Got it. Speakin' of, I was talkin' to some people. "Coalation" of vampires. Called 'emselves "BITE." Got in contact with me via a messenger, and for all I know the son of a bitch was makin' it all up, but he said they were plannin' on, ah, makin' "farms" and shite. Since humans are gettin' so rare, he said they s'posed we had oughta... stick t'gether and keep ourselves a solid food supply."
"The plan isn't a new one. It's been tried before without much success."
"Aye, but back those times humanity wasn't too busy eatin' each other to try to fight back." She winks. "We'll discuss it when we got more time. Till then, Count Zelemir. Ta-ta!"
With that, she turns around and leaps through the air, disappearing into the shadows. You chuckle, before turning back to the drained husk you left behind. To your mind surprise, it's begun trying to get up. You check your arm, finding that the scar is utterly gone. Evidently, draining blood was indeed what you needed to get over the effects of the bite, but draining someone was enough to infect them in turn. Lucky you didn't try to drain one of your allies first. You stomp the husk's skull. Its *pop* is actually quite satisfying.
Speaking of "bite," though, was she serious about that? An organization of vampires called, of all things, "BITE?" That sounded less like a real thing and more something that some juvenile mortal idiot would write about. You shrug, heading back to the grocery store, where you regain your coat, the bags of food you'd collected, and the late Janissary's ammunition and musket.
With that, you head home. A few seconds and about as many city blocks later, you step through the wrecked door and find that your group has at least vaguely attempted to barricade it, having set down an upturned desk in the hallway. You aren't certain it'd keep out zombies, but at the very least it might slow them down. You head down to the cafeteria, throwing down the food you've collected. The hospital is mostly silent. Evidently, everyone is catching up on their rest.
[] Take it easy and rest until people begin to wake up. No need to push yourself any further.
[] Head back out and look for-
- [] More food for the humans
- [] More survivors, either for blood sources or more roomies
- [] Weapons for the humans
- [] Signs of other vampires or Janissaries. Apparently, this town is more crowded than you thought it was.
[] Check on James and wake him if he's sleeping. Why not inform him of the day's events?
[] Check on Alice and wake her if she's sleeping. Why not inform her of the day's events?
[] Head out and fucking purge some undead. No better night for a Hunt than now.
[] Write in...
Last edited:
- Location
- Somewhere in the area
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
[X] Head back out and look for-
-[X] Signs of other vampires or Janissaries. Apparently, this town is more crowded than you thought it was.
We need to make sure that BITE knows that our people aren't on the menu for their blood farm.
-[X] Signs of other vampires or Janissaries. Apparently, this town is more crowded than you thought it was.
We need to make sure that BITE knows that our people aren't on the menu for their blood farm.
Astra Myst
Do you want a wish?
- Location
- Milky Way Galaxy
[X] Check on James and wake him if he's sleeping. Why not inform him of the day's events?
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
[X] Check on James and wake him if he's sleeping. Why not inform him of the day's events?
So... Zombies. Why doesn't anyone just, you know, leave? There are fuckhuge amounts of land that are completely unoccupied by humanity. If the Zed are mostly in the cities, enough to instantly swarm anyone who so much as turns a car on, then that means the countryside will be completely empty. Or, even assuming the Zed begin to slowly filter out into the land, there's just so much land around that you'll see maybe one a week, depending on how close you are to the old cities. Shooting them just brings more? Not when you're the only thing standing for miles around.
Cars are a no-go? Can't get far enough away for it to be worth it? Bikes. Good old muscle powered locomotion, now dozens of times more efficient than walking. Saddles and baskets might be a pain in the ass to properly balance, but still beats carrying it all on your back.
Just make sure to raid your local home hardware store for all their vegetable seeds first. Hunting is an option, too, if you have anyone who knows how.
And that's just the most basic solution. If you, for whatever reason, really need to live in the city, just hunker down in some residential area or another. Human logistics is interesting - how many people live in your area? Really do a decent headcount. If every single one of those people were zombies, you could clear your living area out in a day. With a shovel. You won't see huge swarms of Zed outside of places people naturally gather. Downtown, local shopping districts, and community centres.
Even then, a lot of those would still be manageable to clear out for a sufficiently prepared and well armed group - only the downtown core of any given city, where humans pack themselves in so tight in their towers of steel and glass, will you ever end up with an "unending horde" situation. And technically you could still clear that out enough for some breathing room, given a week and an unending supply of bullets, since no one place has literally unlimited humans. Just get reeeal familiar with your local hunting and camping store. Bonus - if they have bows and crossbows, and you know how to shoot one, you can trade the expediency of a gun for relative stealth.
Yes, there are millions of people in a city. But they don't all exist in one square mile.
... Why yes, I did think the Walking Dead was stupid and full of plotholes the size of minor asteroids. Or, certain parts of it, anyway. Why do you ask?
Yes, I know, Janissaries. And possibly other things, though that seems to be the main problem right now. But problems for normal humans aren't as bad for a group with a vampire and a lycan.
Also? We have Vampire Sign... but where are all the other supernatural critters? Other Lycan, at least. For their current showing, the Janissaries shouldn't have been able to mop up all the resistance. Or even most of it. The vampires mostly managed, apparently, and Lycans are supposed to be stronger than them, on average.
(I'm aware the answer to all of this is, essentially, "don't think about it too hard." But I have spent far too much time thinking about this, and it's too late to turn back.
)
Cars are a no-go? Can't get far enough away for it to be worth it? Bikes. Good old muscle powered locomotion, now dozens of times more efficient than walking. Saddles and baskets might be a pain in the ass to properly balance, but still beats carrying it all on your back.
Just make sure to raid your local home hardware store for all their vegetable seeds first. Hunting is an option, too, if you have anyone who knows how.
And that's just the most basic solution. If you, for whatever reason, really need to live in the city, just hunker down in some residential area or another. Human logistics is interesting - how many people live in your area? Really do a decent headcount. If every single one of those people were zombies, you could clear your living area out in a day. With a shovel. You won't see huge swarms of Zed outside of places people naturally gather. Downtown, local shopping districts, and community centres.
Even then, a lot of those would still be manageable to clear out for a sufficiently prepared and well armed group - only the downtown core of any given city, where humans pack themselves in so tight in their towers of steel and glass, will you ever end up with an "unending horde" situation. And technically you could still clear that out enough for some breathing room, given a week and an unending supply of bullets, since no one place has literally unlimited humans. Just get reeeal familiar with your local hunting and camping store. Bonus - if they have bows and crossbows, and you know how to shoot one, you can trade the expediency of a gun for relative stealth.
Yes, there are millions of people in a city. But they don't all exist in one square mile.
... Why yes, I did think the Walking Dead was stupid and full of plotholes the size of minor asteroids. Or, certain parts of it, anyway. Why do you ask?
Yes, I know, Janissaries. And possibly other things, though that seems to be the main problem right now. But problems for normal humans aren't as bad for a group with a vampire and a lycan.
Also? We have Vampire Sign... but where are all the other supernatural critters? Other Lycan, at least. For their current showing, the Janissaries shouldn't have been able to mop up all the resistance. Or even most of it. The vampires mostly managed, apparently, and Lycans are supposed to be stronger than them, on average.
(I'm aware the answer to all of this is, essentially, "don't think about it too hard." But I have spent far too much time thinking about this, and it's too late to turn back.
)
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[x] Head back out and look for-
- [x] Weapons for the humans
Edit.
The city offers easy access to tech, weapons, the surviving infrastructure (it's pretty resilient - you'll have access to water, gas and electricity; and finding a specialist to do some mainteinance to keep those working is an option), and the food 'grows' on supermarket shelves, which gives you a certain grace period before it becomes a problem.
I'll need one sturdy shovel.
- [x] Weapons for the humans
Edit.
City people are generally bad at wilderness survival. You are only going to see the results of farming in half a year to a year, and that's if you know what you are doing. There is an issue of feeding yourself for half a year before you approach anything like self-sustainainability. Your ammo supply is hard to replenish, and if a raiding party finds you (since there will be huge amounts of displaced polulation fleeing the cities for the reasons you listed), you'll starve.
The city offers easy access to tech, weapons, the surviving infrastructure (it's pretty resilient - you'll have access to water, gas and electricity; and finding a specialist to do some mainteinance to keep those working is an option), and the food 'grows' on supermarket shelves, which gives you a certain grace period before it becomes a problem.
...10k just in my residential compound.
I'll need one sturdy shovel.
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will408914
(slouching towards bethlehem)
- Location
- California
Just found this. It seems interesting!
[X] Take it easy and rest until people begin to wake up. No need to push yourself any further.
[X] Take it easy and rest until people begin to wake up. No need to push yourself any further.
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
This is a big Mood.
[x] Head back out and look for-
- [x] Weapons for the humans
- [x] Weapons for the humans
Chapter 16: In which we receive... a recap episode???!
TheNine
I’ll compromise with the skeletons
- Location
- The good ol' US of A
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You turn toward the stairs and begin to head in the direction of James' room, but evidently, he's beaten you to it. Before you can even take ten steps in his direction, he comes down the stairs at a wobbly half-jog. "Zel? You got food? I didn't want to raid these guys' stores, but you would not believe the kind of appetite that 48 hours without food will give you when your body's fighting off an unstoppable supernatural disease."
You chuckle. "I went over a week fighting off the same disease, pansy."
He laughs in turn. "Screw off, asshole. My heart actually beats, so honestly, you can't say anything. Now, what'd you bring?"
"You're talking like I'm your mother, back from the market. Why should I give you the food I so struggled to acquire."
He's about to laugh at your tease and probably shoot something equally petty back, but he suddenly notices the ruined state of your clothes and the caked black blood that's utterly ruined them, covering much of your body.
"Zelemir... what the hell happened to you out there?"
You frown. "I'll explain in detail, but let's do it... over some food, alright?"
His mood visibly improves with that suggestion, and he quickly nods. "Sounds like a good plan. I guess you are doing fine, right?"
You nod. "I had... a meal. It did wonders for all of my grievous wounds. After that, I'm going to wash myself off in the showers here while they still work."
He follows you back to the cafeteria, where you show him the food you put together. He's obviously pleased. "And none of it rotten. I'm surprised you know the difference between what's gone bad or not after all the centuries of not eating food."
"I've been around plenty of mortals who have, so I've gotten the idea of it. I know what lasts and what doesn't."
He picks up a can of what looks to be stewed beef, before frowning. "I'm not sure where they keep their can-openers. Do you mind popping the top off of this for me?"
He hands you the can and you drive a claw into its top, quickly ripping it off, before handing it back to him. He thanks you before starting to look for silverware with which to eat it. In the meantime, you keep your promise of telling him what had happened.
"Obviously, as you know, I went out looking for food for the group, which I did indeed manage to retrieve. Surprisingly, the supermarket I went to seemed to be largely intact. I had expected that the shelves would have been utterly raided by people who had expected... well, you know, an "apocalypse." Regardless, it didn't take me particularly long to collect all the food you see here now."
You gesture to the bags you brought in, and you see that he's noticed the damaged musket next to them. "I'll explain that one in just a moment. While I was at the market, only a few minutes before I'd have been prepared to leave, some individual managed to sneak up behind me. He alerted me to his presence in Turkish, which, as you can imagine, didn't much please me."
By now, James is eating the stew and nods at you to continue. Seeing that he's not eager to interject, you comply. "We spoke for a few moments before he introduced himself as a Janissary. I'm sure you know what a Janissary is, but I should note that back in my day they weren't mere humans- they were the Sultan's super-soldiers, ridiculously strong and fast, though not so much as vampires like myself, of course. They've been extinct for centuries. He carried that musket that you see right there and claimed it was loaded with blessed silver bullets. As it happened, it was."
You're keeping the last two silver bullets on your person. You kept them in your back pocket in the pouch he carried them in but realized that their close proximity to you was quite irritating, and so you wrapped them in several layers of plastic bag. She sheer insulation reduces how uncomfortable they are. You'll hide them somewhere off of your person the next opportunity you have. Regardless, you've decided to keep their existence a secret from about everyone. It was why you lied to Isbeil about exactly how many bullets the Janissary carried, and why you're not mentioning them to James now.
"I assume that's where you got all the wounds?"
"Indeed. He was dramatically faster and stronger than the Janissaries I fought back in Wallachia and actually proved to be quite a trouble to fight. Doubly so considering that I entered the battle... mentally unprepared. I've been eschewing combat since I came to America, with the exception of you and that bloodsucker that we hunted together. I suppose I was simply operating with an assumption of superiority, and it didn't serve me well. Regardless, I defeated and killed him. He was black-blooded. An undead."
"But not a vampire? Or a "zombie?"
"Neither. Well, I suppose he could have been a low-blooded vampire, but he never did anything to evidence that he was one, except perhaps that he was simply stronger and faster than a Janissary. He spoke broken Slavonic, which makes me tend to believe he might actually have been a Janissary originally hailing from my time of birth."
James raises an eyebrow. You clear up his confusion. "Slavonic was the language of the higher-class in Wallachia. It was the language that myself and my fellow first-generation vampires spoke."
He nods and you continue. "After I defeated him, I was heavily wounded, and with wounds inflicted by holy silver no less. In case you're curious, the blood below my eye came from an entirely mundane knife. He didn't shoot me in the brain, thank the Devil. Regardless, I felt like shit, to put it gently. I decided that I would set out to find a new source of blood. I've been meaning to find one for a while, but now was the first time I was... well, I was forced to do so. It took me what felt like hours to track down living humans, and by the time I found them, believe it or not, they were actually being attacked by another vampire."
Again, James raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're not screwing with me? What are the chances that you just happen to find living humans, they're also being attacked by a vampire- and one that we didn't know even lived here."
"I hardly believed it at the time either, but she certainly was one. In fact, she was actually one I recognized. Baroness Isbeil. A Scott, second-generation vampire. Her sire was one of my brothers, raised by Count Dracula."
"Baroness?"
"Count, Countess, Baron, Baroness. First and second generation vampires are recognized by such titles. I'm frankly unsure why, but it was Count Dracula's order that they would be referred to as such."
He nods. "Go on."
"There had been three. All quite well-armed, though they were clearly unprepared to be attacked by an immortal vampire. One was already dead by the time I arrived, and she had completely drained another before I could even say a word. I announced myself, we recognized each other, and "caught up." In the middle of our conversation, the third surviving human riddled us both with gunfire. That's where the majority of these bloodstains come from. I followed him, caught him, and drained him dry."
James gives you a disapproving look. "So you killed him? Between the two of you, you murdered three surviving humans."
"I needed the blood. I had three wounds, James, all inflicted by holy silver. Also, I'd like to note the stab wound in my brain. I wasn't exactly thinking straight. Besides that fact, Isbeil would have killed him if I hadn't. She's one of those... well, let's say she plays deeply into stereotypes. Sees humans as livestock, lycans as the enemy, you know the sort."
"You're her superior, aren't you? You could have ordered her off of him."
"Again, James, I wasn't thinking straight. Besides, she'd more than likely lose quite a bit of respect for me if I treated a human as more than mere food, and though I'm confident I could defeat her in combat, believe you me that none of us would want her as an enemy."
"I feel like she already is our enemy. Just not yours."
"Regardless, right now she doesn't even know of your existence. I made a point of not telling her. But let me move on. She told me that she was actually in contact with a vampire organization called- and don't laugh- "BITE." Evidently, I wasn't the only vampire that had been attacked by these Janissaries, and they want to fight back. To take advantage of this plague to claim this world as their own, reduce mortal humans to livestock."
He frowns. "I'll admit, I'm glad you didn't tell her about us. If there's a group of vampires that keeps to stereotypes so closely as to call themselves "BITE," I doubt they'd approve of a lycan in their midst. You do realize her and her people being around here are a danger to me and all the humans here, right? They're hardliners, they're not going to stand by and let a whole boatload of mortals and a lycan just... be. Besides, you can't possibly just sit by and let them take over the world."
"They won't. We both know that Hellsing's Hunters wouldn't let them."
"The Hunters are probably mostly dead by now."
"You know as well as I do that no self-respecting Hunter would be killed by a shambling corpse."
"My men wouldn't have been killed by shambling corpses, but look where we are now. Speaking of, the thing that attacked me- could that have been Isbeil or your Janissary?"
"I doubt the Janissary would have been able to hit you as you described, and if it was Isbeil... well, to put it frankly if she were able to drop you in one shot, you're weaker than I had given you credit for."
He nods. "Fair enough. Still, at the very least we have some leads toward who or what it could have been."
By now, he's finished his can of stew and is sheepishly looking for something else to eat. He obviously doesn't want to take too much. Suddenly, he raises an eyebrow. "You got tampons. Mighty thoughtful of you. That wouldn't have even crossed my mind."
Now it's your turn to be confused. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about or what a "tampon" is."
He holds up the box of "Tampax Pearl" you got from the supermarket. "This. These, they're tampons. They're, ah, "feminine hygiene products."
"I still don't know what that means. I had assumed they were food items."
James actually howls with laughter, almost falling out of his chair. He cackles in utter disbelief at your apparently significant mistake, before finally quieting after about sixty seconds. He wipes a tear from his eye as he holds his stomach with his other hand. "Thanks, Zel. I needed a laugh like that."
You're somewhat annoyed. You still have no idea what's so funny.
"So what's next? Are you planning on heading back out tonight, or calling it a day and waiting for tomorrow? If you stay in, we can probably work on building up a better barrier for the front door. The one we've got now is downright pitiful in my opinion."
[] "I'm going to head back out and look for signs of other vampires.
- [] "I need to find out more about this "BITE."
- [] "I need to see if any of them know anything more about the Janissaries."
[] "I'm going to go out and find-
- [] More food. What we have now won't last more than a week or so."
- [] Building supplies and hardware. We'd ought to barricade this place properly."
- [] Weapons for the humans and ammunition for their firearms. I want them to be able to defend themselves if I'm not here and you're still out for the count."
[] "I'm staying here. I can fill in the others on what's happened here and, as you said, improve our barricade.
[] Write in...
You chuckle. "I went over a week fighting off the same disease, pansy."
He laughs in turn. "Screw off, asshole. My heart actually beats, so honestly, you can't say anything. Now, what'd you bring?"
"You're talking like I'm your mother, back from the market. Why should I give you the food I so struggled to acquire."
He's about to laugh at your tease and probably shoot something equally petty back, but he suddenly notices the ruined state of your clothes and the caked black blood that's utterly ruined them, covering much of your body.
"Zelemir... what the hell happened to you out there?"
You frown. "I'll explain in detail, but let's do it... over some food, alright?"
His mood visibly improves with that suggestion, and he quickly nods. "Sounds like a good plan. I guess you are doing fine, right?"
You nod. "I had... a meal. It did wonders for all of my grievous wounds. After that, I'm going to wash myself off in the showers here while they still work."
He follows you back to the cafeteria, where you show him the food you put together. He's obviously pleased. "And none of it rotten. I'm surprised you know the difference between what's gone bad or not after all the centuries of not eating food."
"I've been around plenty of mortals who have, so I've gotten the idea of it. I know what lasts and what doesn't."
He picks up a can of what looks to be stewed beef, before frowning. "I'm not sure where they keep their can-openers. Do you mind popping the top off of this for me?"
He hands you the can and you drive a claw into its top, quickly ripping it off, before handing it back to him. He thanks you before starting to look for silverware with which to eat it. In the meantime, you keep your promise of telling him what had happened.
"Obviously, as you know, I went out looking for food for the group, which I did indeed manage to retrieve. Surprisingly, the supermarket I went to seemed to be largely intact. I had expected that the shelves would have been utterly raided by people who had expected... well, you know, an "apocalypse." Regardless, it didn't take me particularly long to collect all the food you see here now."
You gesture to the bags you brought in, and you see that he's noticed the damaged musket next to them. "I'll explain that one in just a moment. While I was at the market, only a few minutes before I'd have been prepared to leave, some individual managed to sneak up behind me. He alerted me to his presence in Turkish, which, as you can imagine, didn't much please me."
By now, James is eating the stew and nods at you to continue. Seeing that he's not eager to interject, you comply. "We spoke for a few moments before he introduced himself as a Janissary. I'm sure you know what a Janissary is, but I should note that back in my day they weren't mere humans- they were the Sultan's super-soldiers, ridiculously strong and fast, though not so much as vampires like myself, of course. They've been extinct for centuries. He carried that musket that you see right there and claimed it was loaded with blessed silver bullets. As it happened, it was."
You're keeping the last two silver bullets on your person. You kept them in your back pocket in the pouch he carried them in but realized that their close proximity to you was quite irritating, and so you wrapped them in several layers of plastic bag. She sheer insulation reduces how uncomfortable they are. You'll hide them somewhere off of your person the next opportunity you have. Regardless, you've decided to keep their existence a secret from about everyone. It was why you lied to Isbeil about exactly how many bullets the Janissary carried, and why you're not mentioning them to James now.
"I assume that's where you got all the wounds?"
"Indeed. He was dramatically faster and stronger than the Janissaries I fought back in Wallachia and actually proved to be quite a trouble to fight. Doubly so considering that I entered the battle... mentally unprepared. I've been eschewing combat since I came to America, with the exception of you and that bloodsucker that we hunted together. I suppose I was simply operating with an assumption of superiority, and it didn't serve me well. Regardless, I defeated and killed him. He was black-blooded. An undead."
"But not a vampire? Or a "zombie?"
"Neither. Well, I suppose he could have been a low-blooded vampire, but he never did anything to evidence that he was one, except perhaps that he was simply stronger and faster than a Janissary. He spoke broken Slavonic, which makes me tend to believe he might actually have been a Janissary originally hailing from my time of birth."
James raises an eyebrow. You clear up his confusion. "Slavonic was the language of the higher-class in Wallachia. It was the language that myself and my fellow first-generation vampires spoke."
He nods and you continue. "After I defeated him, I was heavily wounded, and with wounds inflicted by holy silver no less. In case you're curious, the blood below my eye came from an entirely mundane knife. He didn't shoot me in the brain, thank the Devil. Regardless, I felt like shit, to put it gently. I decided that I would set out to find a new source of blood. I've been meaning to find one for a while, but now was the first time I was... well, I was forced to do so. It took me what felt like hours to track down living humans, and by the time I found them, believe it or not, they were actually being attacked by another vampire."
Again, James raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're not screwing with me? What are the chances that you just happen to find living humans, they're also being attacked by a vampire- and one that we didn't know even lived here."
"I hardly believed it at the time either, but she certainly was one. In fact, she was actually one I recognized. Baroness Isbeil. A Scott, second-generation vampire. Her sire was one of my brothers, raised by Count Dracula."
"Baroness?"
"Count, Countess, Baron, Baroness. First and second generation vampires are recognized by such titles. I'm frankly unsure why, but it was Count Dracula's order that they would be referred to as such."
He nods. "Go on."
"There had been three. All quite well-armed, though they were clearly unprepared to be attacked by an immortal vampire. One was already dead by the time I arrived, and she had completely drained another before I could even say a word. I announced myself, we recognized each other, and "caught up." In the middle of our conversation, the third surviving human riddled us both with gunfire. That's where the majority of these bloodstains come from. I followed him, caught him, and drained him dry."
James gives you a disapproving look. "So you killed him? Between the two of you, you murdered three surviving humans."
"I needed the blood. I had three wounds, James, all inflicted by holy silver. Also, I'd like to note the stab wound in my brain. I wasn't exactly thinking straight. Besides that fact, Isbeil would have killed him if I hadn't. She's one of those... well, let's say she plays deeply into stereotypes. Sees humans as livestock, lycans as the enemy, you know the sort."
"You're her superior, aren't you? You could have ordered her off of him."
"Again, James, I wasn't thinking straight. Besides, she'd more than likely lose quite a bit of respect for me if I treated a human as more than mere food, and though I'm confident I could defeat her in combat, believe you me that none of us would want her as an enemy."
"I feel like she already is our enemy. Just not yours."
"Regardless, right now she doesn't even know of your existence. I made a point of not telling her. But let me move on. She told me that she was actually in contact with a vampire organization called- and don't laugh- "BITE." Evidently, I wasn't the only vampire that had been attacked by these Janissaries, and they want to fight back. To take advantage of this plague to claim this world as their own, reduce mortal humans to livestock."
He frowns. "I'll admit, I'm glad you didn't tell her about us. If there's a group of vampires that keeps to stereotypes so closely as to call themselves "BITE," I doubt they'd approve of a lycan in their midst. You do realize her and her people being around here are a danger to me and all the humans here, right? They're hardliners, they're not going to stand by and let a whole boatload of mortals and a lycan just... be. Besides, you can't possibly just sit by and let them take over the world."
"They won't. We both know that Hellsing's Hunters wouldn't let them."
"The Hunters are probably mostly dead by now."
"You know as well as I do that no self-respecting Hunter would be killed by a shambling corpse."
"My men wouldn't have been killed by shambling corpses, but look where we are now. Speaking of, the thing that attacked me- could that have been Isbeil or your Janissary?"
"I doubt the Janissary would have been able to hit you as you described, and if it was Isbeil... well, to put it frankly if she were able to drop you in one shot, you're weaker than I had given you credit for."
He nods. "Fair enough. Still, at the very least we have some leads toward who or what it could have been."
By now, he's finished his can of stew and is sheepishly looking for something else to eat. He obviously doesn't want to take too much. Suddenly, he raises an eyebrow. "You got tampons. Mighty thoughtful of you. That wouldn't have even crossed my mind."
Now it's your turn to be confused. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about or what a "tampon" is."
He holds up the box of "Tampax Pearl" you got from the supermarket. "This. These, they're tampons. They're, ah, "feminine hygiene products."
"I still don't know what that means. I had assumed they were food items."
James actually howls with laughter, almost falling out of his chair. He cackles in utter disbelief at your apparently significant mistake, before finally quieting after about sixty seconds. He wipes a tear from his eye as he holds his stomach with his other hand. "Thanks, Zel. I needed a laugh like that."
You're somewhat annoyed. You still have no idea what's so funny.
"So what's next? Are you planning on heading back out tonight, or calling it a day and waiting for tomorrow? If you stay in, we can probably work on building up a better barrier for the front door. The one we've got now is downright pitiful in my opinion."
[] "I'm going to head back out and look for signs of other vampires.
- [] "I need to find out more about this "BITE."
- [] "I need to see if any of them know anything more about the Janissaries."
[] "I'm going to go out and find-
- [] More food. What we have now won't last more than a week or so."
- [] Building supplies and hardware. We'd ought to barricade this place properly."
- [] Weapons for the humans and ammunition for their firearms. I want them to be able to defend themselves if I'm not here and you're still out for the count."
[] "I'm staying here. I can fill in the others on what's happened here and, as you said, improve our barricade.
[] Write in...
- Location
- PA
I'll be frank, a part of me wants to try and negotiate with this 'Bite' organization, because well...
1. let's face it we could use the support, and they in turn get...I'd say about 6 humans in exchange, assuming that silly Lycan vs. Vampires doesn't cause issues.
2. We know of at least 3 seperate threats (Janissaries, Hunters, and the THING THAT WRECKED JAMES)
3. We also have valuable information-namely any vampire that gets bitten, like us, will infect any human we bite, which in turn means the need to feed needs to be handled carefully. Like it or not we've GOT to figure out a solution to that because humans are far more finite a resource then they used to be.
1. let's face it we could use the support, and they in turn get...I'd say about 6 humans in exchange, assuming that silly Lycan vs. Vampires doesn't cause issues.
2. We know of at least 3 seperate threats (Janissaries, Hunters, and the THING THAT WRECKED JAMES)
3. We also have valuable information-namely any vampire that gets bitten, like us, will infect any human we bite, which in turn means the need to feed needs to be handled carefully. Like it or not we've GOT to figure out a solution to that because humans are far more finite a resource then they used to be.
Not negotiable. These specific humans we actually value as more than snacks
- Location
- PA
Right, but what I was thinking was that for normal vampires, you can actually feed on humans without killing them. Zel's screwed because of his infection but other vampires? Not as big of an issue.
Unless I'm mistaken and only Zel 'first gen Vampire' can control himself that well...
Chapter 16.01: In which more important information in shared
TheNine
I’ll compromise with the skeletons
- Location
- The good ol' US of A
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I don't like explicitly stating things that should really be stated directly in a chapter update, but once again I feel the need to prevent conclusion and uninformed actions.
Zel was infected by the bite he received in Chapter 1, but the blood he drank in Chapter 15 purged his body of the infection. Until he's bitten or otherwise infected again, he can safely nonfatally feed from people. At the moment, Zelemir himself isn't 100% sure of this, but I figured it'd be best to let y'all know unequivocally.
Zel was infected by the bite he received in Chapter 1, but the blood he drank in Chapter 15 purged his body of the infection. Until he's bitten or otherwise infected again, he can safely nonfatally feed from people. At the moment, Zelemir himself isn't 100% sure of this, but I figured it'd be best to let y'all know unequivocally.
Same deal. Zel isn't putting his friends up on the snackbar unless they consent and he's sure of the other vampire's restraint
