The Rivers Run Red (Mammon/Open)

[Vlad III Țepeș]

5:35 PM
19th of January, 2012 A.D.
Outskirts, Regal Necropolis

Thick, scarlet thunderclouds rolled across the darkening skies of the Regal Necropolis, the perverted mirror image of London, casting a dismal shadow over the crumbling architectures and the broken streets. The low rumble of thunder echoed overhead, alerting the demons that ran rampant throughout the city that a blood shower was on its way. As the realm of Mammon, the Corrupter, a large majority of the Archdemon's "subjects" chittered and screeched in delight for the coming storm, expecting to get their share of the liquid contents that would soon pour to the ground in copious quantities. They were blood drinkers to the very core, just like their master.

On the fringe of the Wolfmother's realm, near a series of interconnected craters overflowing with the sanguine substance, stood a tall man with pale skin and long, ghostly white hair that blew in the wind alongside the mantle that draped his broad shoulders. His opulent wardrobe and the rigid atmosphere he projected were visual reminders to the lesser fiends that scurried about that he was not a demon of ordinary might. He was far above them, far superior to the rest of the trash he shared space with.

He was Vlad III Țepeș, better known as Drăcula.

It had been two days since the Count last savored the taste of blood, a substance that became something of an addiction to him since his transformation into a vampire several centuries earlier. Every three days since his turning, he was forced to venture out into one of the nine spheres of Inferis and hunt for victims to drain, so that he may suppress this unholy thirst long enough for the process to repeat again. It was a monotonous routine, but it had its fair share of benefits.

As the Lord of the Nosferatu, Drăcula boasted considerable influence over the eponymous creatures. He often took advantage of this and had his subjects hunt for him, much like a pack of lionesses would for the dominant male, where he would then exercise his right to access a portion of the liquid spoils for himself. Since his hunger only required that it be sated once every three days, Drăcula was typically willing to let the Nosferatu gorge themselves on the copious leftovers. It was a perfect form of symbiosis.

Regrettably, his ability to command their presence was weaker outside Mammon's sphere, a setback that would have posed little challenge to the Count had he taken the initiative to send one or two of them out to hunt. He'd have to remember that little tidbit for later. For now, he would focus on slaking his thirst for the moment.

Drăcula scanned the outskirts like a buzzard searching for scraps, making sure he didn't miss a single nook or cranny in case some lower demon chose to poke its filthy head out. The winds picked up velocity, causing the Count's black and scarlet mantle to flap more aggressively than it had been doing. Nothing would escape his sights.

[Mammon]

A storm was coming. Both a literal and figurative phrase in this case, and Mammon was watching from within her palace. She could smell the iron in the air, hear the screeches and calls echoing from within her realm as they all called out in hunger to the skies above. Oh yes, it would rain blood her darling pretties, but every storm it became a blood bath. Creatures would climb and claw and tear for the ability or thought that they could reach more of the falling droplets, that they had been denied because some idiot had taken up their space. It was also the perfect time to let her puppies have some fun. Rising from her chair as she lounged reading a book, the large tomb closed with a resounding Thud, a couple of Barghests near her raising their heads at her movements. "Lets go for a walk, shall we darlings?" She asked with a two jawed smile, all of them immediately popping up and barking excitedly, the sound echoing off of the halls of the Sanguine Palace.

A hop, skip, and a jump later they were wandering down from the twisted reflection of Buckingham Palace and out amongst the subjects that dwelled in her home. A Weeper almost greeted them, but even as she rose and was about to scream, she could see who it was and instead bowed very low. Mammon's form was not that of her Demon self, but of her human self, his white hair flowing out behind him as he walked along in an untucked white button down shirt and black pants. He did not sport his jacket this day, just the basic clothes with shoes. As she passed the Weeper, she petted her on the head, that handsome face smiling down at her. Her hounds flanked her on either side, on in front, and two behind, a few more trailing after and ahead of their beloved mistress. They slowed as they sniffed the air, a crack of thunder disturbing the screeches and howls as it began to pour down in thick, large droplets that hundreds of thousands of hungry mouths opened towards to receive. And so the front one let out a whine, Mammon's smile twisting those androgenous features as those golden eyes looked onward. He raised a single finger and pointed onwards, taking a deep, happy breath as the blood began to cover him. So all but two took off into the streets, descending upon those unsuspecting residents of her realm with mouths of fire and claws of steel. The screams rose in pitch as flesh and bone were ripped asunder, the blood beginning to flow down and about into the streets.

Mammon merely held out a hand and that delicious, crimson liquid rose up from the ground and flew in streams towards the air above her palm, gathering as if it were gathering in a wine glass. A glass that she brought to her lips and fed upon, gulping down the delicious lifeblood greedily, a single trickle of it escaping his mouth to roll down his chin, only adding to the rest of the blood that soaked him. It sizzled and hissed as the droplets grew close to her pups bodies, the heat that they emitted enough to do such a thing. They walked around as such until Mammon held up a hand, whistling so that all her pups returned to her sides, her brows furrowing. There was an anomaly here... A Demon that normally was not here, but belonged. One of her pups knelt down beside him so that he could clamber up onto the beasts back, the cool flames and leathery fur protecting her flesh from being burned to a crisp (not that it would have truly mattered). Once she was on, the 10 foot beast straightened up as the rest gathered around, howling as she let out a shout for them to go. She wanted to know whom it was that had entered her realm at this point in time.

Within moments they arrived in a section of the outskirts, slowing down to a walking pace as Mammon's eyes scanned about. Snapping her fingers once, her hounds all dispersed, sniffing and searching for a trace of what did not quite belong. Scritching the head of her mount, her male form took another deep breath, absorbing all of the blood that was currently coating him and soaking into his body, leaving him appearing pristine and pretty for whomever had entered his realm. He heard a howl come from his left and so they went galloping along, soon enough coming upon a man that Mammon had never had a chance to meet in person. He smiled and waved to Dracula below, "Greetings friend! Enjoying the weather?" He called, jumping off of her Barghest and landing lightly on the ground before bowing to the great Nosferatu. Her hounds came running back, forming a semi-circle that towered over both of them at the moment. "Did you come to partake in the festivities of the blood bath?"

[Vlad III Țepeș]

The Count's eyes narrowed slightly as a canine's piercing howl reached his ears from the right. With it came the faint scent of fire and brimstone, suggesting that whatever was producing that noise had connections to fire and brimstone. If not, it certainly reeked the part. Drăcula theatrically swiveled to port so that he may face the source of the baying creature, his back now facing against the direction of the wind so that his oversized cloak swathed and wrapped around the base of his tall figure. He felt flecks of moisture land against his skin, staining his face with light red streaks. The blood shower had begun. A quick glance toward the skies above the Necropolis reinforced this fact, as the storm had already grown denser within the city limits. He clenched his teeth between pursed lips.

The demons would crawl from their holes to feed and fight amongst each other. It was the perfect opportunity to begin the hunt.

Before he was able to act on his decision to embark, Lord Drăcula sensed several presences rapidly closing in on him, though he chose to do nothing and stood his ground, awaiting whatever it was that desperately sought him out to make their presences public. He focused his vision briefly and saw a large pack of Barghests, the iconic "hellhounds" of Inferis, approaching. Mounted on the back of one of these ten-foot, fur-covered skeletal mongrels appeared to be a young, pale-skinned somebody with feminine white hair. It wouldn't be long before the Black Dogs and the sole fish out of water among them to present themselves, the rest of the pack forming a half-circle around the leader.

"Greetings friend! Enjoying the weather?" Drăcula kept silent as the somebody called out in Demonic, its foppish voice working in tandem with its outrageously androgynous features. The individual dismounted its canine steed, then bowed before him as if he were one of his Nosferatu subjects. The gesture was instantly recognized as a means of earning his respect, a sign he felt obligated to return with a simple nod of confirmation. He occasionally glanced at the towering beasts behind the humanoid creature that stood before him, certain it was a demon by its distinct scent, studying the skeletal structures and the smoky black fur that eddied in the breeze. "Did you come to partake in the festivities of the blood bath?" the character asked him, seemingly out of curiosity.

"I came to slake my growing thirst. Alas, the blood storm has drawn my prey's attention," the Count answered the androgynous figure with indifference, more interested in the means it used to get here. The Barghests were fearsome beasts, indeed, with their fanged jaws clenched shut while an unnatural, orange glow pulsed from between their razor sharp teeth, their crimson circles for eyes locked on to the smaller demons below them. "These hounds of yours. How are you able to monitor their behavior?" Drăcula asked, his movement as unflinching as a mighty oak tree as one of the smaller dogs snarled in his direction, attempting to intimidate the Lord of the Nosferatu. The Count's lips stretched into a thin smile as soon as it started barking wildly, unable to properly scare what it had marked as its quarry. "They appear to be quite vicious, aren't they?"

[Mammon]

Oooo-hoo-hoo!!! It appeared dear Dracula did not know who she was! That only made Mammon grin wider as she was happy to see him bow in return at her greeting. Well, well... She did have to wonder, however, how in the world did such a handsome man create the dubiously somewhat pretty nosferatu? Sure many dressed pretty and were classy (much to her liking), but at the same time... they could turn so ugly when they went off to feast and that... mmm... not so classy and pretty. Her hounds were regarding the man warily, not sure how they were supposed to appear before him as the blood rain drenched them all more and more. "I came to slake my growing thirst. Alas, the blood storm has drawn my prey's attention," Excellent, so he was in fact who she thought he was. She had been relatively sure! But it was always nice to receive confirmation that you hadn't gone completely batty yet. So he was here to hunt as well though, most excellent indeed. Perhaps.... Well, depending on his behavior she would invite him to hunt with her and her hounds. It had been a while since they had been able to, and though it wasn't Lucifer accompanying her this time, company would still be welcome.

"These hounds of yours. How are you able to monitor their behavior?" His eyebrow raised as he considered the man, stepping up a bit closer to him so he could turn around and look at her beloved beasts. When one snarled and began to bark, instantly Mammon turned her head, golden eyes flashing dangerously which made the hound immediately back off. It's tail bent between its legs and the ears went down, oh it knew it had done wrong. She walked over to the young one, waiting for it to lower his head as her white hair clung more and more to his body. "They appear to be quite vicious, aren't they?" As soon as it lowered its head, she flicked it on the forehead, watching him skid back a couple of feet and whine in pain. She pointed her finger and stared long and hard at the pup who walked forward again and bowed its head, receiving pets since it had learned its lesson. "They can be vicious yes. But only if I say so." She answered him, smiling soft as he scritched behind the pups ears and turned to face her new guest once more. His feet made the gravel crack beneath his feet as he returned to where he had been before, staring with those golden eyes into Dracula's gaze.

"I monitor their behavior because they are my puppies. They are loyal to me, and me alone, and by now most know my will." She glanced back again towards the pup again, "Some are still learning if they are young." His tongue flicked out to catch some of the falling droplets, licking his lips with a small little smile, gesturing back towards the greater Regal Necropolis with an arm. "I apologize for interrupting your hunt Count Dracula, perhaps you would like to hunt together?" How long? How long before the creator of the Nosferatu would realize who she was? All the details were there, just not her form or her name. She knew she would have piqued his interest in the simple fact that she did know who he was by name.

[Vlad III Țepeș]

The Count stood firmly in place, his cape swirling at his feet as if it were liquid darkness, as he nonchalantly observed the recent events unfold before his icy, sanguine-colored eyes. The demon in white, who had yet to identify itself, immediately responded to the insubordinate Barghest pup with a deadly glare that hardly befitted its effeminate features; the hellhound instantly sensed that it had angered its vastly smaller master, and lowered its skeletal head in a display of submission, an act that was quickly rewarded with a mild flick to the forehead, which sent the larger creature skidding back several feet, briefly yelping in animalistic sorrow to the pain it was inflicted with.

Drăcula's smirk faded from existence, his unfeeling stare hardening even further as he studied the demon with no name. His stony expression returned not out of worry or fear for this newcomer or the power that it seemed to possess, but out of sudden awareness. That kind of strength, paltry as the display seemed to be, only existed among the greater demons, or those that were given a large capacity for close combat. The white demon's slender, almost womanly body depicted none of the telltale signs of the latter, so it was highly likely that the Count was dealing with the former.

Which leads to the next question: if this truly was a greater demon he was conversing with, exactly how strong was it?

"They can be vicious yes. But only if I say so." It dodged the Count's earlier question by withholding the exact method used to control the pack's bestial tendencies, instead dropping the hint that it was able to control them nonetheless. It was likely that these grotesque mutts were being pampered as well, seeing as how the effeminate figure pet the younger Black Shuck after it had just been punished for its insolent behavior. If it were under Drăcula's jurisdiction, he would have extinguished its pathetic life for acting out of line. Alas, his opinions didn't matter, neither to himself nor to the demon he spoke with, so he dispassionately abandoned the notion altogether. "I monitor their behavior because they are my puppies. They are loyal to me, and me alone, and by now most know my will." So, they really were being treated as mere pets, trained like any dog could be trained when they could serve far greater purposes.

In all honesty, drivel such as that made the Count want to vomit.

Naturally, his urge to fill his stomach was far greater than the desire to purge its contents, a necessity he was quickly reminded of in the form of a question from the white-haired demon with the delicate, androgynous body. "I apologize for interrupting your hunt Count Dracula, perhaps you would like to hunt together?"

Not once did Drăcula mention his name during their brief exchange of dialogue, further fueling his growing concerns. He may have held a remarkable reputation during his life back on Earth, but down here, in Inferis, he was another face in the crowd—for the time being, anyway. Even his considerable influence over the Nosferatu wasn't enough to garner much recognition throughout all of the spheres. Physically, he appeared to chew over the white-haired figure's seemingly generous proposal, closing his eyes to "think on the matter", when in reality, he was slowly attempting to piecing together the demon's potential identity. Its control over the Barghest pack (mollycoddled as they were, the flea-infested mongrels); its physically contradictory level of strength; and its knowledge over Drăcula's identity, despite that he never made any attempt to make mention of his name himself.

This demon clearly had to be a greater one, at the very least. Was it possible that...?

"If I may be so bold as to inquire," Drăcula said, breaking the short period of silence between them as he returned the white demon's piercing yellow eyes with a crimson gaze of his own. "What manner of business do you have with me?" Though his conversational partner lightly indulged itself in the storm by licking up the bloody droplets that pattered against its delicate skin, the Count himself would not engage in such activity. This rain, this sanguine rain, was tasteless to him. It had no flavor, and completely robbed the satisfaction of personally sating his lust for blood with its abundance.

He had to obtain it for real. And it had to be visceral.

And he wouldn't budge an inch until he was given an answer.

[Mammon]

There was a very subtle change in the air, not quite unease, but certainly some sort of curiosity. As her eyes watched him, Mammon could not help but begin to smirk. That smirk grew more as he seemed to consider her offer, that cold twist seeming almost out of place on such a handsome face. Oh yes, he was definitely realizing the potentials of who stood before him. As the blood soaked more into her clothes and her hair, he was sorely tempted to gather it up again to drink. But he would not do it. Not yet. Not until he had to reveal his identity because the Count had grown tired of this guessing game. It was true that this was a bit of a one-sided enjoyment, much like when she met Gaius before, but at the same time she was still paying him the proper respect as a leader of the Nosferatu. He was a blood lover and was nourished by the glorious fluid, and so she was aware of his existence.

"If I may be so bold as to inquire," He held his gaze without flinching or fear, that twisted smirk of hers now lessening as she clasped her hands behind her back. "What manner of business do you have with me?" Bingo. He knew. "Curiosity." Mammon began, her head tilting as she heard a Weeper's scream far in the distance and the quickly following cries of pain. "I sensed an anomaly. A difference in my land with all of its various demons and forms. I was curious, I wanted to know who it was. " Those gold eyes slid back to him as a swirl of crimson shot through them, whether from the blood droplets or a hint of her demon forms eyes shining through. "So when I found it was Count Dracula himself, the Lord of the Nosferatu that infest my lands..." Walking back over to her pups, two of them went running off back into the city as he pet the side of one of them, her flesh getting burned away as she stroked those exposed bones. "...I had to meet you."

Her hand lowered away from her hound, the blood along her arm and in her clothes flowing quickly down to reform about the limb and the bone. Soon enough her shirt sleeve was pristine, and her pale flesh was healed as she stared at him now. "As for the offer of the hunt, I figured that I would at least extend the courtesy since we do both enjoy feeding and the blood bath itself is glorious." With a light shrug, he laughed, stepping forward as the three remaining pups lined up behind her. "After all, what good host doesn't invite guests upon their hunts? Hardly seems proper, don't you agree Count?" He did not know all of her names, did he? He did not know who the Blood Goddess, the Huntress, the Corrupter was aside from her true name. "And Mammon is known for being a gracious host." She added in a darker tone, her humans voice breaking between male and female so it sounded multi-phonic, those golden eyes swirling with a flash of crimson once more.

[Vlad III Țepeș]

"Curiosity." Right on cue with the white demon's single-word answer, a brilliant flash of scarlet lightning came and went, followed by the booming crack of thunder as the bloody rain intensified, spilling down and all over the Regal Necropolis. Its answer was short and to the point, but it was all that Drăcula needed to reach a solid conclusion regarding its true identity—the real face behind the hideous mask it so loved to wear. The wail of a Weeper echoed in the distance, the figure before him gleefully listening in on its pitiful sound, but the Lord of the Nosferatu paid no heed to it. To him, it was nothing more than irrelevant noise.

"I sensed an anomaly. A difference in my land with all of its various demons and forms. I was curious, I wanted to know who it was." The effeminate demon appeared to have recognized Drăcula's newly gained awareness and, sensing this, chose to cease with its charade. It owned this land, this hollow reflection of London, and had detected the Count's arrival at an earlier point in time. Drăcula's watchful eyes surveyed the demon's every action, every moment, like a hawk that spied on its target, observing that its lifeless yellow eyes had flashed red for a fleeting moment upon turning to look at him. "So when I found it was Count Dracula himself, the Lord of the Nosferatu that infest my lands..."

Two of the Black Shucks split away from the pack and bolted off toward the Necropolis as the figure, now wearing clothes that were heavily saturated thanks to the blood shower, strode over to pet one of them. Touching the searing hot bones caused the flesh to literally melt off its stick-like fingers, hitting the ground where they fell in a small mass of blood and charred tissue. She hardly seemed concerned with the grievous-looking injury, which was entirely self-inflicted, but neither did the Count make any attempt to point it out. He already knew who he was speaking to.

"...I had to meet you."

Ridiculous. A demon of such high standing vastly transcended the petty affairs of the lesser, and as much as he loathed to admit it himself, Drăcula knew this. As it stands, however, it was nevertheless aware of both his existence in its realm and his status as the strongest of the Nosferatu. Yet it still wanted to meet him, despite being astronomically superior to him in every way? The sheer irony of it all forced a smile from Drăcula's sealed lips as he closed his eyes to reflect on all that transpired.

"I must admit, your peculiar fascination with me has me amused," he said to the smaller character, who had restored her condition to the way it was before the blood storm had taken place, and was likely to do it again as it continued. He opened his eyes to look down at the undercover Archdemon, glaring down with freshly discovered curiosity for its ulterior motives. Even if the Archdemon's respect for him was as fake as that wretched form it assumed, its willingness to salaam before him was nevertheless admirable; he curled an arm to his breast in thespian manner, slightly leaning forward in a light bow.

"As for the offer of the hunt, I figured that I would at least extend the courtesy since we do both enjoy feeding and the blood bath itself is glorious." the incognito Archdemon assumed with a lighthearted shrug, one that Drăcula was not willing to return, as he personally felt such behavior was unfitting for a demon of its status. "After all, what good host doesn't invite guests upon their hunts? Hardly seems proper, don't you agree Count?" There it was again, that unholy flash of red over its eyes, just like the last time. The Count caught wind of the break in its voice as well, hearing the voices of both male and female occupying the same words. "And Mammon is known for being a gracious host."

Lord Drăcula closed his eyes and pondered, then returned to gazing down at the Huntress. "She is, most certainly, a gracious host, indeed," he said, stressing the middle of his sentence as a subtle hint to the Archdemon. He was fully aware of her stupid tricks and mind games, and he saw right through them all. But he had to give her credit where it was due, for she had presented herself with such humility. To have the Blood Goddess herself bow in his presence was just the ego boost he needed.

Drăcula saw it fit to return the favor.

"Very well," the Count conceded, the swirling of his massive cape intensifying as the winds picked themselves up, the bloody droplets disappearing into the velvet cloth as if it were somehow sentient, feeding off the abundance in sanguine moisture. With a smirk, his iconic pointed fangs revealed themselves to Mammon. "Let us engage in a banquet most savage."

[Mammon]

Mmmm.... the lightening flashed upon her answer, inwardly that singular action of her domain making her grin on the inside. Yes... her domain knew her well, was tempered well with her. There was a reason that her beloved Lucifer had made it hers, had granted it to her when they descended here from that place up above. She would not think on it now for it was not appropriate and she had a guest. Since the guest was not Lucifer, there was no sense in bringing it up or thinking upon it. Speaking of the dear Count, she guessed now that he was puzzling over why in the world an Archdemon would want to meet some lesser demon, some other, random demon that existed in their realm of Inferis. "I must admit, your peculiar fascination with me has me amused," Mammon could not help but smile, though one corner tilted up ever so slightly more than the other so it was sort of a smirk as well. She was sure it was amusing to him. She might be one of the Nine, but it got so very... boring. Especially when you either dislike, outright hate, avoid, and/or simply don't talk to any of your other siblings except for one. Moloch was always an exception because it was Moloch and he was a sweetie (and his ice cream was delicious). And Lucifer? Well... he was different from all of them.

"She is, most certainly, a gracious host, indeed," He was not stupid, she knew he had picked up on it much faster than Gaius had, though Gaius had also tried to deceive her as well. She did have to admit that while she had the ability to sense the influence of her siblings in the mortal realm, as faint as it was, others did not. And the look on his face when he realized... Priceless. But she was digressing, the Count was most certainly of a different crop than the Roman. She smiled and bowed her head to him, the blood soaking into her flesh from in her clothes, hair, and dripping down upon her. He appeared pristine again, relishing that sensation of fresh blood flowing through her. Delicious. "Very well," As his cape swirled, he raised an eyebrow, noting how the Count did the same thing as her. Yes... she was glad to have met him indeed. "Let us engage in a banquet most savage." "Most excellent." Her voice split again as the mortal form began to transform, flesh becoming fur, three tails sprouting from her backside as the mouths chomped hungrily at the droplets that fell from the sky. Her jaw split into two with the center flaps attaching and detaching together.

Now she towered over him in her true form, staring down at him with her now gold-crimson eyes, gesturing for them to head back into the city. Two more of her pups went tearing off at some unseen command of hers, only one remaining at her side as she hovered over the ground. "There are more further in. Come." And with that she began to move, her hound letting out a howl before following after her.

***

It only took a few moments for them to arrive closer to the city proper, the screams and cries of demons growing louder as they were more condensed here. Once or twice Mammon believed she saw one of his Nosferatu lurking about, tails undulating until she noticed a group feeding on a fallen Weeper with another engaging in a fight over a carcass. They were all too engorged in their meal to notice their approach, and Mammon took full advantage of it. A clawed finger lifted as her hound leaped forward at the feasting group, hot mouth latching onto the one nearest them. Now they had their attention, but Mammon was already moving. She saw how they trembled at the sight of her, but they did not run and some? Heh... Some were foolish and came at her. Holding out a hand, she laughed as she felt the blood flowing through them, on them, tendrils forming through the air and into her hand as she wrenched them towards her. One tail wrapped about one, the second another as her other hand found the third. Her claws dug into its flesh, its screams piercing until her double jaw bit down on its head, ripping it away from its body which caused it to shudder. Oh yes, it was a glorious day indeed.

[[OOC: Feel free to take control of the other group and stuffs. :) ]]

[Vlad III Țepeș]

"Most excellent." And so it was. Drăcula's careful planning and a little bit of patience finally paid itself off. He was still alive, and Mammon was thoroughly pleased with his willingness to join her soon-to-be killing spree. Although he preferred hunting by his lonesome, seeing as how some of the craftiest natural predators did so, the Count had to wonder if tagging along with the Blood Goddess would land him some useful benefits once their slaughtering came to a close, aside from sating his growing thirst for blood. After all, one does not simply go on a casual hunt with an Archdemon.

Lord Drăcula continued to ruminate on these future possibilities while he nonchalantly watched the Wolfmother slowly morph into her true form, gradually discarding that hideous excuse of a mortal shell during the process. Mammon's frame grew and grew until she now towered over the Lord of the Nosferatu at fifteen feet tall. Her skin no longer appeared white like paper, having adopted a complexion that blended light tan with green. Black fur grew from the back of the great demon's head and traveled to reach her lower back, putting more emphasis on her now-overly feminine traits and the wing-like growths that popped out of her shoulders. Aside from the three tails that sprouted from her backside, riddled with teeth-lined mouths and slobbering tongues hungry for blood, Mammon's face was the most interesting part of her. She bore two mouths, each of them packed with fangs as deadly as the sharpest of swords, both of them divided by a strange flap of skin that also bore dagger-like teeth.

This was Mammon, the Corrupter. The Wolfmother. Bloody Mary. Such a visage of eldritch atrocity should be flaunted, proudly, for all lesser beings to gaze at in sheer terror. Why she would willingly keep her real body, in all its terribleness, concealed within that loathsome, androgynous travesty of a human form was beyond the Count's understanding. Whatever. The choice was hers, not his.

"There are more further in. Come." The Archdemon requested, the male-female split still registering in her voice, as she literally hovered her way back to the inner limits of her kingdom, the remaining Barghests either bolting off before them or staying at the Huntress' side, leaving the Count to watch on as they sank between the crumbling buildings of the Regal Necropolis.

Drăcula splayed his arms outward, causing the cape that rolled and swirled at his feet to snap outward and away from his body, producing a dramatic flash of red behind him as it resumed its aggressive billowing in the howling winds. As he broke into a slow stride toward Mammon's realm, the Vampire King made preparations to shift into his own human form during the feast, but only if the circumstances presented themselves in such a way that it would become necessary to assume that form. Unlike Mammon, whose campy human body was likely worn for looks, Drăcula's had more utilitarian purposes, and was best suited for the rage of battle. Even so, he preferred donning his armor in the presence of self-righteous or downright stupid human beings.

———————————————————————

Within a stretch of several minutes, Lord Drăcula had finally entered the Necropolis, not once pausing to admire Mammon's dominion in all of its twisted beauty. Were this a casual stroll, he would have possibly entertained the notion, but there was business to attend to. He was pressed to quench his thirst; the longer he went without it, the harder it would be to keep this urge suppressed. It was truly a curse in every respect, but the Count never saw it as such. To him, it was more of a nuisance than anything. Blood was laughably easy to obtain, now that he had the power to take it by force.

The Count caught a glimpse of the Wolfmother's partially-furred back, her hideous tails lashing out at the various demons that were either foolish or brainless enough to lash at their lord and master, all while the Blood Goddess chuckled murderously as she exercised her impressive control over the blood that spilled into her lands, creating numerous tendrils from the sanguine substance in order to draw them in closer to her, all while her sole remaining hellhound opted to ravage a nearby group of corpse-feeders, who were preoccupied with their latest kill, a Weeper that now marinated in its own blood and entrails like an otherworldly cuisine.

His ears basking in the symphonies of carnage, Drăcula closed his eyes and sniffed at the air, aiming to exploit his predator senses to find and locate the presence of his intended prey. Being in such close proximity to the Corrupter made the task significantly more challenging, as her overwhelming energy levels had either distorted or completely masked the scents of all the demons in the surrounding area, but it never deterred the Count from trying. He continued to scan the air with his nose, filtering the different smells to find a demon that he could brutalize on his own.

Instead, it found him.

"Oh my, it's not every day you see the Blood Goddess go out for a walk," spoke a soft, lilting, female voice in Demonic, which came from a darkened alleyway situated to the Count's left-hand side. The tone in her voice suggested that she was less interested in Mammon's bloody rampage, and was more occupied with the demon that stood in front of her. She hummed, further reinforcing this hypothesis, "But it's even rarer to see such a handsome man like you walking around the Necropolis." The demon chuckled lowly.

Drăcula slowly opened his eyes to shoot a chilly glare toward the left, his head still fixed in place along with the rest of his body. He refused to directly turn and face this new presence, as he was already aware of what he was dealing with in accordance to the way she tried to approach him. "Reveal yourself, she-demon," the Count demanded, clutching the folds of his cape near his hips so that it ballooned behind him, wrapping the cloth around his tall body shortly after. "Lest I have one of my servants do it for you." Many are the victims he's devoured in the past that believed this threat to be a bluff, but if it's one thing history teaches a person, it's that Lord Drăcula never makes an empty threat.

A glint of yellow flickered within the female creature's mischievous eyes. So forceful, this one was. But just how much of a struggle was he willing to put up, though? "Ooh, so demanding. And feisty, to boot!" she taunted from the shadows with an evil chuckle. "I like that in a potential victim." A slender, feminine leg dressed in purple nylons marked with little bat patterns and wearing a calf-high boot emerged from the darkness, followed by the other until her full figure revealed itself for the Lord of the Nosferatu to study in detail.

The demon was a Succubus, one of the bastard spawn of Al-basti, the Mother of Lust and the first wife of Adam, progenitor of all mankind. Her form was curvacious and supple, wholly responsible for the unfortunate deaths of the many men she had devoured with visceral delight. Bat-like wings decorated both her head as well as her lower back, the larger of the pair hanging behind her attractive legs. Much of her great cleavage—which was possibly her greatest "asset"—protruded from the leotard she wore, which was trimmed with feathers.

Drăcula had to force himself to resist the urge to laugh at her petty attempts to be threatening, swiveling on his heels to face the voluptuous demon woman as he hoisted the folds of his cape up to his face, as if he were a Spanish matador taunting her, the bull, to make the first move. His blood-red eyes glowed bright with murderous intent as he smirked behind his sopping wet cloak. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind while I slowly kill you, wench."

---

[ Player Notes: I'll have Vlad attack this Succubus first while Mammon does her Archdemon thing. I'll have him join her later. ;D ]

[Mammon]

He had stared at her so once she had transformed into her true form. There was something oddly.... familiar about it. No, it had to be her. She could feel the unease swirling in her stomach, and so she quickly banished it out of frustration. Today was a day for the revelry of carnage, for her to gorge herself greedily on all the blood and violence that she wanted. It was time to clear out the useless from her realm for there was no shortage of demons that crawled over the squalid streets of Regal Necropolis. The group she had been subduing were nothing but bones and jelly before her, looking up as the ones by her hounds howled just as his face melted off. Oh yes... she loved her puppies so. She watched while she gathered up all of the blood from the corpses before her, letting it twist about in the air before flowing into the many mouths upon her three great tails. Glancing behind, she had noticed that the Count had found himself something, a Succubus it seemed, to play with and so she smirked to herself.

A great roar reached her ears as a heavy weight slammed into her torso, causing her to get knocked back a couple of feet. Her eyes whipped about as a minotaur like beast had decided to grab her about the middle, his horns embedded into her ribs. Ow. "What, do you think such a pathetic attack would take me down?" She hissed between her two mouths, both of her hands clamping about the beasts head as she could feel the blood that pumped through his veins. Speed up, sweet crimson liquid of life. Speed up inside this bastard of a beast. It let out a hot breath over her, its tail begin to lash back and forth as she literally forced his blood to pump faster and faster, his heart getting to the point where it could not handle it anymore. "Thats it... Just..go.. Pop." On the last word, the minotaur let out a rather pathetic howl as its heart literally exploded in its chest, falling limp except for the horns still stabbed into her ribs. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and pushed, ripping the horns with a snarl, looking down at the two holes in her midsection. Blood spurted forth, starting to spill towards the ground before she stopped it.

Taking a deep breath, her hound ripped the last bit of flesh from his group, immediately running over to his giant mother, whining and nudging towards where she had been hurt. "Now, now, I'm fine. He was an idiot for trying, but I suppose I should commend his courage." She spoke quietly, an ear splitting shriek sounding off from their left. A group of Aviaxes burst past them, their annoying chittering followed by an angered Weeper whom was quickly catching up. It made her smile, the blood droplets dancing all about her as she stroked the top of her beasts head. Ah... storms were so very delightful. She was half-tempted to stop hunting and just watch the carnage, the idiocy of so many of these lesser beings as they struggled to satisfy their greed, their hunger. The smiles suddenly faded as she fashioned a few of the blood droplets into razor sharp daggers, jumping up along the front of a few buildings until she reached their roofs where she then stood to stare up at the sky. Beings were flying overhead, swooping down on occasion to go in for the kill. The knot was growing in her stomach, forming a blood bow as her tails lashed behind her in agitation. Forgo the compassion that you might seek here, that existence was long since dead. She drew the string back, exhaling as those arrows fired to find their marks. Lightning crackled, the thunder booming across her city. Yes... This was her domain now.

[Vlad III Țepeș]

The Count's eyes glazed over with carnivorous impulse as he studied the Succubus' every movement with the objective to break her neck and drain it completely of its valuable fluids. By no means was he growing desperate for her blood; were he reduced to such a depraved state of mind, he would already have it by now. Instead, he was plotting, scheming to find the most creative of endings for the insolent she-demon before him. He could simply break her neck, but there would be no pain involved. Clean kills cause no thrills.

The green-haired enchantress stretched her arms in front of the lordly vampire, at a pace far too casual for battle conditions, never once breaking eye contact with her target. She lifted one foot up, then forward, then placed it down in front of the other foot, the pointed heels of her boot clicking against the ruined streets below it. Another step, then another, as if she were a demonic supermodel strolling down the runway to exhibit her sexual appeal. After six more paces, the Succubus' bat-like wings straightened themselves out before her delicate frame lifted itself off the ground, rising high up so that Drăcula could not reach her.

"Well, then," the Succubus muttered down below with a devilish twinkle in her yellow eyes, tucking her thumb beneath her middle finger, creating enough friction between them to create an audible snap. "Shall we dance?" A crimson bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, and with the explosive crash of thunder that followed, the darkness churned. As if the formless shadows had given birth, a cloud of bats poured out from the alleyway in the hundreds, half of them swarming around their mistress while the other half closed in on the Vampire King, who unflinchingly stood in place as he became surrounded by the shrieking and flapping pests.

He scowled in annoyance, but shortly chuckled. "Allow me to reciprocate." Drăcula taunted the seductress as he theatrically flourished his tremendous cloak around and over the rest of his tall frame, obscuring himself from her range of vision. As the wind and the downpour picked up speed, the Succubus watched on with silent curiosity as the Vampire King's mantle surged and twisted in a chaotic dance of red and black. Within the tornado of velvet fabric, his form was altering itself, changing to better acclimate himself to the she-demon's bothersome usage of her wings.

Within a rough span of six seconds, the cyclonic dual-toned cape ceased its eddying, permitting the howling winds to unravel the garment so that it could billow spectacularly to the wearer's left, revealing that it had suddenly grown to twice its original size and that the textiles were now blemished with tears and rips of varying sizes. In place of his aristocratic garb was a intimidating suit of polished European armor stained to look as black as midnight. The Count's hair was longer and thicker, flowing in unison with his cape like darkness made manifest. Even his facial features were different; they were youthful now, and had blackened stubble as opposed to his noble-looking mustache and beard.

Above all that had changed about the demon's form, however, were his eyes. They still retained their distinct, sanguinary color, but it was the intensity of his stare that was different. It was darker, heavier, and far more sinister than even his vampiric self could produce; the Succubus narrowed her glare out of concern for Drăcula's transformation, aware that her chiropteran familiars did nothing to intimidate or distract her target, but curious to see what this new body of his was capable of. Admittedly, he was far more handsome than earlier. She never was into old people, anyway.

The newly-armored Drăcula suddenly broke into a sprint toward the alley with frightening speed, briefly surprising the Succubus demon as he all but completely melted into the shadows she had emerged from, leaving the bats she had sent to annoy him scattering about frantically as they failed to find their target with sonic reverberation. On some unheard command, the disorganized half of her swarm flocked to meet up with their mistress as she scoffed with intrigue. "Let's hope you'll make this interesting, darling~!" she muttered to no one in particular, kicking off to slowly hover her way over the crumbling rooftops of the Necropolis in search of her prey.

Cat and mouse. Cloak and dagger.

The game was afoot.

[Mammon]

The screams were growing, the rain was pounding harder and heavier in sheets thick as lead, practically drowning the entirety of the Regal Necropolis in its metallic fluids. The creatures from the sky fell as she closed those great golden eyes and simply raised her arms, breathing deep of all the things that were flowing about her.  Yes.... If there was to be any epitome of the twisted face of compassion, it was the carnage and depravity that flourished around her.  Her three great tails whipped about as the jaws gnashed together for more to feast on, attempting to catch as much of the blood falling about them as possible.  She heard her hounds bark below, crimson swirling with gold as those orbs opened to see a speck coming down towards her at far too quick a speed.  Dodging to the side, two spiked legs stabbed into the buildings roof as a Leaper turned its head towards the Archdemon with a great hiss, angry that it miscalculated and was denied a great target.  Mammon's eyes glowed a deep red as her two jaws split into a smile, tails curling behind her as they hissed right back at the idiot creature.  "Ahh... so you have a death wish.... wondrous."  

With that it began to jump up, but her blood whip was faster.  It seamlessly formed out of the blood bow she had made, striking upward and about the leg of the bouncy creature.  With a screech it was pulled back downwards and right into the waiting tendrils of her three tails, the mouths descending and tearing the flesh from the demons bones.  Oh yes, what an unwise choice it had made.  Though this made her wonder, why did they bother attempting to attack an Archdemon?  Her head tilted as she turned and walked to the edge of the rooftop, watching the death below as her tails continued to cradle and feed on their fresh prize.  It would shut them up for a while, that was for sure.  But back to her debating's because it was something that she was wondering at.  They were even stupid enough to try and attack the great Lucifer though it was because of him that they were even given existence.  Demons would be demons, most only had one track minds to begin with.  Her eyes focused on a group of soldiers up the street wearing old English WW II uniforms, the gold narrowing to slits as she observed them.  Soldiers of the Damned.... Even they were drawn here today.  

Her hounds let out a howl at the sight of her, their tales wagging as they looked at her expectantly.  Her tails were drawing close to the end of their meal, her tongue flicking out to lick the blood from the fur about her lips.  She flicked her fingers twice back towards the Palace, giving them a silent command as she jumped down from the rooftop to hover ever so slightly above the ground.  Sniffing at the air, she glanced back towards the Soldiers of the Damned that had now caught sight of her down the street, a Weeper letting out a shriek of surprise before barreling right into their ranks.  The rat-at-at-at of their guns struck through the air as piercing as the Weepers cry, a little smirk only rising to her lips as she turned away from the scene to find out where her guest was at this moment in time.  Her hounds she had set loose to do as they wish as long as they returned home by the time the storm ended.  There was one last crack from behind her as her tails finished off the last of the Leaper, bits falling to the ground that they chose not to eat before they splayed out more, mouths happily satisfied.  She couldn't help but chuckle to herself as she hovered through the streets towards that smell she had caught notice of.  

Her great hulking form shrank and shrank, tan-green fur regaining color and paling to flesh as the crimson tinges in her fur lightened to white.  The tails faded from view as two jaws simplified to one, the gold of those distinctive eyes sharpening to glance about the road.  What was odd was that the blood droplets no longer touched his form, instead swirling about before deflecting entirely away so the pure white of his shirt was not stained in the least bit.  Slipping his hands into his pockets, Mammon whistled a happy little tune to himself literally skipping down another side street as those ears perked up to all the different sounds that had grown out of Regal Necropolis this day.  Where oh where did little Dracula get off to now?

[Vlad III Țepeș]

Somewhere, deep between the darkened backstreets of Mammon's dystopian realm, amidst the symphonies of violence and bloodshed caused by her and her Barghest hounds, the newly transformed Drăcula hurtled and darted his way between the shadowy pockets produced by the ramshackle buildings in order to thwart the Succubus' attempts to track him down. Despite the fact that his younger-looking form seemed to blend perfectly into the darkness, it never discouraged the voluptuous demon. Instead, it made the chase far more entertaining.

"You're such a tease!" With a shrill giggle and a series of synchronized waves of her delicate little hand, the winged she-demon ordered her bat familiars through some, mental means to swoop down into the alleys and search out her target. Without any discrepancies, the chiropteran beasts obeyed their mistress's order and descended in small clusters, fanning out while they squeaked and chirped incessantly, making full use of their naturally superior hearing abilities to scope out their environment and find her quarry by their own soundwaves.

Realizing that her loud, annoying pets were hot on his trail, Drăcula let off a cocky scowl and rapidly scanned the immediate vicinity for a means to escape their biological radars. Echolocation was a skill he never needed, for his eyes were already akin to a nocturnal predator's, and could see with great clarity even in pitch darkness. It merely took couple of seconds for the Count to spot a rusted, iron extension ladder attached to the side of a nearby building, an obstacle he could reach without any difficulty.

Stopping dead in his tracks as soon as it came within his own ideal grabbing distance, Drăcula performed a powerful vertical jump, latching on to the ladder with a mighty grip before flinging himself further upward in a single motion, almost as if his movements were more animal-like than human, with his ebony cape flowing behind him in unison. With acrobatic precision, the armored vampire continued to leap, bound, and pull himself up the side of the building, using the very environment around him to accomplish this as if it were a giant obstacle course, until he reached a point where the shadows met the ambient red lighting of the Regal Necropolis. Like the intelligent hunter he was, the Count waited just below where the light struck the building with his cloak wrapped around his body, his form seemingly invisible to all.

Though the prospect of being able to kill a target that played hard-to-get excited her, the Succubus hardly expected her familiars to take this long to find the vampire. With a cute little pout, she telekinetically demanded one of her swarms return with a status report, an order that was followed within mere seconds. Nothing came up, much to her disappointment, so she had called back the rest of her pets and dived into the alleys to find the Count herself. Did he simply run away, or was he hiding? The she-demon honestly didn't know, but she loathed the fact that she now had to do all of the hard work because her bats couldn't find him themselves.

Little did the green-haired beauty know, however, that she was playing straight into Drăcula's patient waiting game.

---

[ Player Notes: Long time, Vi! :D Hopefully everything went well during your hiatus. ]

[Mammon]

"I'm siiiiiinging in the rain~"  The mans voice was a lovely tenor, hands clasped behind his back as he skipped through those giant blood droplets, the crimson lightning booming out behind him.  Not here, not there, not anywhere!!  She could smell that he was still about, but where had the dear old Count gone?   The Blood Goddess strode down one of the main streets for a little while, happy to find that they were relatively clear for her though there were obvious signs of carnage amidst them.  Peeking out from the buildings were pairs of eyes, careful to avoid drawing the attention of the other beings that strutted about.  Her Cultists.  Poor damnable souls that they were.  Up the street and down a lane she heard a shrill scream, dust shooting upwards as she guessed a Taurus had found its way over there.  What fun was happening?  What was causing these screams?  The blood that floated about her slid beneath her feet, allowing her to skate quickly down the road to her destination of curiosity.  

It was, in fact, a taurus.  But the cause of the scream was a small family with two children that hulded beneath the parents, utterly terrified of the beast that loomed over them.  They were cornered now.  Her eyebrow raised as she folded her arms. "Ah!  M'lord!  Please!"  The mother cried out to him, Mammon's eyes gleaming as the Taurus paused to stare at the harmless looking white-haired man staring down the alleyway.  He could sense the danger that had just approached, and fear.... oh it was positively dripping from him.  "You should know better than to go wandering about in a Blood Storm." The handsome face grinned as the Taurus turned towards him with its great axe in its hands, stepping closer towards the alley.  "Tell me, why call for help?  You know where you reside.  You know who you worship."  The father held his daughters closer, glancing up towards the horned creature warily.  "We were on our way home.  We didn't know and I--"  "Excuses."  The word boomed and echoed down the alley, power resonating behind those words as her voice split again.  The Taurus snuffed at her and let out a growl, loosing its patience for the one that had denied him his sport no matter how much power it could sense coming from it.  

"Please m'lord.  Aviaxes took our home and we only just found a new place.  I know where we are and I know we have no right.  If nothing else, just..."  The womans eyes teared up, "Save our girls."  The Taurus roared again whirling about on the family as the two young ones let out ear splitting screams.  Mammon stared non-plussed at the scene, his head tilting slightly.  There was an irony here that they were not aware of, just as they were unaware of who this pretty creature before them was.  "...Did you know that Mammon used to be the Angel of Compassion?"  He asked them suddenly, turning his head and eyes suddenly upon the Taurus just as the rain above the creature spiked downwards and stabbed into its back and arms.  The giant creature roared and turned its hulking body, charging at the white-haired man with its axe raised high, disregarding the pain of its wounds.  Jumping nimbly to the side as it brought its massive weapon down to leave a crater in the street.  Mammon stepped up and placed a hand on the Taurus' back, feeling the blood pouring through and out of him.  It suddenly began to slow its flow, the beast starting to cough and sputter as those golden eyes stared at him almost boredly.  "Funny thing that."  With a final wheeze, the creature fell over, the ground shaking from the force of its fall.  

Now he turned to gaze at the trembling family whose faces had gone quite white now, a myriad of emotions crossing over their faces.  "Y-your.." "My lady!"  The mother instantly fell to one knee with her husband quickly behind, both of them getting their children to kneel before her as well.  Mammon strode over, unable to hide the smirk that had risen to his lips as she licked a fleck of blood from her flesh.  "Do you get the irony now?"  He asked, slowing as he approached them now at the mouth of the alleyway, the rain seeming rather loud now as it hit the ground.  It was as if silence had decided to fall, or was it because Mammon wished it in her realm?  "Yes m'lady, we do.  We are humbled and honored you would deign to aid us.  We will make another offering--"  Mammon held up a finger, the parents looking up as the smirk only seemed to grow.  "Yes, you will.  I believe you said your girls?"  A glint had appeared in his eyes as the two daughters were suddenly jerked away by some invisible hand from their parents, crying out as they reached towards their parents.  The man and woman started to rise as the father attempted (rather poorly) to hide his pain.  "Y-yes... To save them..."  The womans terror was growing, not at all sure what the goddess she worshipped was going to do now.  

It only made Mammon grin more, twisting that handsome face into a hint of the hideousness that lay within.  "And I'll do just that.  They'll work for me now at the Palace.  I've been in need of some more servants and they will do just nicely.  I scratched your back, now you've scratched mine.  Now go."  Those golden orbs flashed, the two parents standing and bowing again to her, "Yes m'lady--" "Thank you m'lady."  And so they ran off, leaving their two daughters crying at Mammon's side.  Kneeling down, he shushed them gently, placing a hand on each of their heads.  They couldn't have been older than seven and nine respectively.  "Now now, no tears!  You'll have a better home now, and even work!  And you don't have to worry about these pesky demons trying to kill you all the time."  Mammon then rose, sniffing the air again.  Where HAD the count gone?  "Come, what are your names?"  The girls sniffled and looked at each other.   "Marina." "Anastasia."  The handsome man couldn't help but chuckle at the older ones name.  "I see... Good to meet you both, now, come help me find a friend.  He's somewhere in the city."  The girls could tell they didn't have a choice and so nodded, each taking one of Mammons hands as they continued to walk through the Regal Necropolis with the lighting splitting the sky and the rain pounding the pavement.

[I know right? xD  Finally back from all my busy-ness sort of.  Gonna be starting my job next week so we'll see how often I can still get on too. It did, and I hope you are well also!]

[Vlad III Țepeș]

A flash of scarlet lightning rolled across the cloudy skies, followed by an uproarious clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very ground with unrelenting force. The blood storm had intensified in its heaviness and speed, now bordering monsoon status as the red liquid rained down without mercy, seemingly threatening to drown the Regal Necropolis with blood. Whether this was the will of Mammon or a natural occurrence was beyond Drăcula's knowledge, but it didn't matter at the moment.

She was approaching.

"Had I known you were hard-to-get, I'd have had my sisters help me out with this one!" The Succubus angrily flailed her delicate arms up and down like a child would after being denied candy, her flock of bats hovering behind their mistress while she floated toward the rooftops to scry for the vampire's presence again. Unbeknownst to her, she was well within the Count's striking distance at this point, but he refrained from making any sudden movements until he was certain the green-haired demon girl completely dropped her guard. She hummed beneath her breath before turning about face—a fatal mistake on her part. "Come on. Can't we just stop this little game and have some real fun?"

"At your expense." Lightning flashed across the sky once more, briefly revealing the Count's fully cloaked visage as his bloody red eyes glowed with murderous intent, obsessively fixated on the she-demon in front of him. In her surprise, the armored vampire pushed himself off the building and into a powerful lunge for the Succubus, tackling into her dainty figure in perfect unison with the next peal of thunder to pass as she let out a distressed yell. His grip was too firm to wriggle away from, and his weight had all but rendered her ability to fly null and void; she couldn't support all of that bulk he was wearing. Using his own size to his advantage, Drăcula entered into a skillful roll forward before releasing his hold seconds before she hit the ground, diving straight into her body moments afterward as soon as she made an attempt to recover before impact.

The resulting force at which he slammed into the Succubus was great enough to create a sizable crater in the alley, sending bits of dust and debris away from the point of impact. Battered and internally damaged beyond belief, the she-demon regurgitated streams of her own blood as she tried to regain her bearings. Drăcula would have none of that, however, and simply straddled the demon in order to keep her pinned to the ground, thrusting his open hand against her delicate neck before clenching it in a vice-like grip, slowly picking her broken body upward, lifting her, until he now had her hovering inches above the ground, arms and wings hanging limp and useless at her side.

The Succubus choked and gagged pitifully, blood spilling from her mouth and onto the vampire's iron gauntlet, as she tried to telepathically call her bats for aide. The lack of oxygen took its toll on her ability to think, though, rendering the act irrelevant. Even if she were to have succeeded, they would have done nothing to distract the Count from relishing his victory. All she could do now was look back at him, into those icy, murderous eyes of his, and await for Death's embrace to take her. Her legs twitched, almost like she were hanging from the gallows.

Drăcula smiled impishly at the dying she-demon, his iconic fangs glistening in the red light of the Necropolis. "Under adequate circumstances, I would have played with you a little further," he murmured, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, his fingers squeezed tighter and tighter around her throat. Rivulets of blood seeped from the newly created puncture wounds. There was no need to draw this out further; he had to get blood in his system. Now. "But you were hardly worth the exercise."

SNAP! With a sickening crunch of bone, the Count had closed his fingers full force, breaking the smaller demon's neck until her head rolled backwards like a ragdoll, her eyes now glassy and dull, the rest of her body now convulsing out of control as the last seconds of her life slipped away from her. With no hesitation on his part, the vampire pulled the corpse into his own body and, with a snake-like hiss, clamped his fangs down against the dead Succubus' neck.

His eyes glazed over with bloodlust, blackened heart beating wildly inside of his breast as he savored every last drop that entered his mouth and ran down his throat. Throughout the carnal feast, his body had begun to contort and twist itself back into its other form, his true body. His ebony hair contracted and bleached itself white, the stubble on the vampire's face now returned to its imperial beard and mustache, and the huge suit of armor supposedly disintegrating into nothingness to reveal his aristocratic garments once more, his cape billowing and eddying at the base of his feet.

Satisfied with his kill, his ring flickered with a glint of red as he casually tossed aside the body of his victim, letting it fall wherever it did without giving it a second thought. Drăcula sighed, licking his teeth in gratification as he closed his eyes, concentrating on the powers he had now acquired from his meal. They wouldn't last long, of course, but that hardly mattered anyway. He fulfilled his three-day quota, and that was good enough. Balling his fingers into fists, blood sprayed out wildly from beneath his cloak as two wings, identical in shape to the Succubus', emerged from his backside and spread themselves out in full span.

With a powerful flap, the Lord of Nosferatu took to the skies and exited the alleyway in search of the Archdemon that generously invited him to partake in her hunt, gazing down at the ruined streets like a hawk would as he hovered in the air. Turning to his left, a figure in all white seemed to be skipping through the pouring blood-rain, accompanied by two other females, who appeared to belong to the Wolfmother's personal sect of Cultists. "Hmph."

With another beat of his leathery, black appendages, the vampire sailed through the stormy skies, his wings slicing through the sanguine downpour and leaving a peculiar little trail behind his flight path until he approached the three individuals from on high, circling around in order to straighten his form out until he landed perfectly on the ground, fully erect. Folding his newly gained wings into his body, the Count slowly approached the trio, directing most of his attention to Mammon—who took on that hideous disguise again—while merely glancing down at the two girls at her side, who appeared to be merely children. "My feeding is complete," he informed dryly, raising a hand to his breast as he bowed partially. "I take it you and your hounds have achieved plenty of exercise, as well?"

[Mammon]

The wind was beginning to kick up now, tossing the blood all about as it descended towards Inferis.  Mammon paused as she stared up at the sky, still holding the two childrens hands.  She could feel how they were trembling, though if it was fear or cold, she wasn't sure.  Even the cause of their fear was rather muddled in her mind.  Marina was the first to look up at her.  "Are we ever going to see our parents again?"  He wanted to sigh for it was only a matter of time until that question popped up.  The archdemon didn't bother looking down to answer, "Unlikely.  Besides, they probably sacrificed you in life to me anyways.  Hard to judge when its kids."  The girl stiffened at her side and looked down at the ground.  Her older sister blinked once as she also looked up, "They didn't.  We were definitely born here."  A single eyebrow raised on that handsome face as Mammon finally looked down at her two newest servants, those golden orbs narrowing as she peered at Anastasia.  It was rare for anyone to speak to her with such strength and assurance whom wasn't a higher ranking demon, sibling, or her dearest heart.  ".... Very well."  Was all he said as they resumed their walking.  

They didn't get very far as Mammon stopped again for there was a disturbance nearby.  The ground trembled beneath them, or was it from another crack of thunder.  "What a rowdy night."  "I'm scared..."  His ears perked up as she stared upon the younger sibling, narrowing her eyes a little.  She used to be excellent with children, emphasis on the used to.  She hardly ever took in new servants this young without an older sibling than Anastasia because they risked becoming trouble, or were simply troublesome because they were, well, kids.  "Come now, there's no need to fear.  The storm will blow over soon I think and there isn't any way for us to be in danger.  This is my realm.  I can control the very droplets that fall from the sky above."  She knelt down as the young girl turned to face her, her sister continuing to stand beside Mammon with a small tilt of her head.  That one had accepted and understood her fate.  "And you know what else?"  He asked with a grin, chuckling as she shook her head.  "We are too pretty to have anything happen to us.  Now lets skip!  I want to skip!"

With a laugh he scooped up their hands again and tugged them along as Mammon did just that, and began to skip down the blood soaked streets with a gleeful cackle to the sky.  The girls began to giggle and skip alongside for a person that skipped couldn't possibly be that bad, right?  Oh to be young and naive again... The two began to sing a little song together as the Archdemon continued to grin, plans beginning to unfold for what they could be sent to do back at her palace-- Wings.  He stopped suddenly mid jump, landing stark still on the ground though the two girls tried to bounce further.  But they let out squeals as the moving objects met an immovable force, those golden eyes gleaming as he sniffed at the air.  Ah.  Most excellent.  He beckoned the sisters to his side, standing up taller as the grin relaxed into a subtle smirk, watching as the dear Count began to descend to the ground.  Marina and Anastasia realized the new presence was there and clung onto her legs, their shivering resuming once more.  Pitiful creatures.  

"My feeding is complete."  Mammon nodded her head slowly as a return to his bow, tapping the girls on the back so they would do the same.  It was a barely managed gesture, but at least they did it.  She would not have servants at her palace who wouldn't show proper respect to people that she deemed her guests.  "I take it you and your hounds have achieved plenty of exercise, as well?"  He chuckled as he licked his lips with a nod, patting the girls on the back.  "Quite so yes.  I set them loose, though I suspect they have gone back to the palace now which is quite well.  Though I believe introductions are in order.  Girls?"  They looked up at the pale man, his white hair curling over one shoulder as his smirk grew.  "Introduce yourselves."  Anastasia was the first to step forward, Marina quickly moving to stand next to her though her fear was obvious.  "I'm Anastasia." "M-Marina..."  "It's a pleasure to meet you."  And with that the younger sister darted back to Mammon and hid behind his legs while her sister merely stood beside him as he let loose a laugh of amusement.  

"Hah!  Children.  Aren't they adorable.  My newest servants you see."  He rustled Marina's hair with a toothy white smile, a glint passing over his eyes.  "I trust your hunt went equally well?"

[Vlad III Țepeș]

Vlad's face remained motionless and stony as Mammon let off a snigger, petting the heads of the two girls at her side. "Quite so yes. I set them loose, though I suspect they have gone back to the palace now which is quite well." Quite well, indeed. He no longer had to watch her coddle and spoil the hounds like she did; loyal they may have been, overindulgence was bad for their naturally vicious instincts. Seeing as they were no longer in the picture, the Count gave a couple of cursory glances in the direction of the children that flanked the Blood Goddess on both sides. Who were they?

Though I believe introductions are in order. Girls?" Mammon turned her androgynous form's attentions to the two, as if she had anticipated the Count was going to ask questions about their identities, but they appeared to show distinct hesitation in his presence. The younger-looking one, in particular, seemed noticeably scared of him; in fact, the vampire could smell the fear exuding from her, permeating itself from every pore on her delicate, little body. He would never show it externally, but Drăcula was grinning devilishly on the inside. If he weren't required to consume blood as a source of sustenance, then terror would have likely been his nourishment. He thrived on it, relished in it, became intoxicated by the sight of watching all around him tremble and cower at his heels like the animals they were. Fear was the natural predator of innocence, and the latter always lost to the former.

Always.

"Introduce yourselves." The little ones stepped forward to greet the Count, with the taller of the two at point while the smaller one, arguably her little sister or something akin to that, cowered behind her guardian. "I'm Anastasia." The taller girl identified herself. "M-Marina..." The smaller girl stammered, suddenly bolting off to hide behind the disguised Blood Goddess, evidently frightened of the tall and uncaring vampire before them. "It's a pleasure to meet you." said the girl named Anastasia, sound and resolute in her greeting—a trait that caused the Count to raise an eyebrow inquisitively—before she returned to Mammon's side.

The Wolfmother chortled heartily, clearly amused with their naiveté and, thus, their fragile spirits. "Hah! Children. Aren't they adorable. My newest servants you see." Drăcula kept silent, mentally opposed to humoring her belief that those children were "adorable". If she wanted to employ them as her servants, they need a little breaking in. Of course, that was beyond his right to advise, so he would cease to pursue the thought any further. "I trust your hunt went equally well?" The vampire scoffed in obvious annoyance, as if her innocent question was offensive to him. "Killing that Succubus posed little challenge to me," he commented, a glint of discontent present inside of his crimson eyes. "Clearly, the concept of stealth was foreign to her."

[Mammon]

The Count was so very.... composed. He stood there quietly, looking at the two girls, and.... was it her, or did he almost seemed rather relieved that her puppies were no longer there? Hmm... Perhaps she was reading too much into the situation. No matter, the day had gone quite well. And the Count even seemed pleased with her two children. She saw how he grinned so at how terrified Marina was of him, and honestly? It was a positively delicious terror. At the moment she was still debating how best to break them in as proper servants to her. The younger one she suspected would blossom with some signs of affection and dictation of what would happen should things go wrong. She was still at that impressionable age after all. Anastasia.... now she would be a bit more difficult. She had clearly resigned herself to her position, and would certainly require more attention and focus than Marina. But... as some would say... it was as if the Palace walls had eyes. If she were to try and escape, then her pups would have a nice dinner for them. And then Marina would be hers forever. Well now, this was a thing to ponder for the future.

Ah but yes, where had their conversation gone? She had completely distracted herself with the thoughts of her new servants and the rain was only coming down harder. With a slight twitch of those handsome lips, Mammon glanced up and tilted her head slightly, looking away as the blood began to shift seemingly on its own. It was as if a giant blood umbrella had formed over them, diverting the rain away from them on the sides so that no splashing would happen upon clothes. The scoff at her was something she chose to ignore for the moment. "Killing that Succubus posed little challenge to me," He raised a single eyebrow at the man as the smirk that rose was both one of amusement and.... other. He was beginning to remind her of some of her siblings... in ways that weren't so... pleasant. "Clearly, the concept of stealth was foreign to her." The "other" part of her smirk slithered away from the surface as she let off a bark of a laugh, glancing down to the two girls (Marina seeming startled by that laugh of hers). "But they are succubi. They are only good for a few things, and even those aren't.... interesting." She muttered almost dispassionately, narrowing her eyes as she thought of their creator. Cunt.

With a shake of her head, she suddenly smiled at him, a hand pressing into the two girls' backs. "At least you fulfilled your need for blood, hm?" She commented, a shadow of her true form passing over her features as she felt how the two girls were trembling. "I apologize, it would seem that the more challenging game has decided to not show its ugly head." Or would be unwise to hunt. She mused the latter to herself in her head, glancing down at the two girls whom only Anastasia looked back. Yes.... she had plans for the two of them. Ah, but the Count. "Dracula, if you should care to join us at the palace, we shall be having some tea I think. If you have other engagements then we shall not detain you any longer."

[Vlad III Țepeș]

Drăcula let off a subsonic hum as the Sanguine Mistress seemed to laugh at the logic behind his disgruntlement, as if he had told a joke. "But they are Succubi. They are only good for a few things, and even those aren't... interesting." The vampire slowly blinked once, his deadpan face the only form of evidence Mammon needed to conclude that he was not the type for merriment or humor. The Blood Goddess may have enjoyed their licentious behavior and functions to a degree, but they were unnecessary in the red eyes of the Count. He was above such filthy acts.

But the Queen of the Necropolis wasted no time dropping the subject altogether, with a perfect smile landing on her ghostly, androgynous pallor. She was either curious to know more about the Count, or simply had nothing better to do except snoop around in others' businesses. "At least you fulfilled your need for blood, hm?" Lord Drăcula nodded silently, immediately rolling with the conversation's new direction. Eventually, the Archdemon felt inclined to apologize to her guest for the lack of challenging prey, an assumption that did not sit well with the vampire. She thought him to be weak, then? Typical of one of the Devil's lieutenants. He merely smirked, the points of his fangs glistening in the sickening red light. "I would have enjoyed it far more than the taste of the Succubus."

The Archdemon took a moment to glance down to her newly acquired subjects, the children that would become her servants at the Palace, before turning back to the Count to propose another offer to him. "Drăcula, if you should care to join us at the palace, we shall be having some tea I think. If you have other engagements then we shall not detain you any longer." First, a hunt with the Blood Goddess, and now evening tea? She wasted enough of his time with her idle bantering already; the Spirelands called to him like a moth to the flame. "My business is finished here, Lord Mammon," the strongest of the Nosferatu declined with a humble bow, rising back to an erect posture before turning on his heels, revealing his back to the Archdemon and the girls that flanked her. "You have been most generous with your hospitality. Many thanks to you."

Without another word, the black wings furled near his legs and backside suddenly spread themselves to full span, flapping once, then twice, before picking up the Count's massive frame on the third beat before he darted high into the air so that he could break into flight, rocketing toward his home sphere as the crimson droplets of Mammon's blood storm subsided at long last.

[ THREAD EXIT ]

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[ Player's Notes: Sorry for the abrupt exit and the lack of zesty content, but I figured it was high time we ended the thread. XD ]

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