painting the town with the wrong red hue

Der Lampman · Apr 4, 2016

Te - no, I should find myself a better nam - it's Teddy with italics

Some people would be cautious when they walked around at night. It wasn't that Manta Carlos was unsafe. For most people it was fine, and for some, it was great at night. But for some others, those not blessed or cursed with power, it was best to stick to the familiar places, where there was some semblance of safety.

At least, that's probably what that one person thought.

Teddy had been moving around, roaming the city for the most absurd reasons as usual, ambling and shambling along through the concrete jungle - very literally at points, as he'd recently acquired his most newest addition to the magical wardrobe and so could cruise around freely. There were some interesting moments, but so far it had all been silent and peaceful. Except for that little spot of what appeared to be murder in the streets.

In a more deserted part of downtown, there lay a - well, he couldn't tell - sorry for not being able to see in the dark inside the damn wall okay - whatever sort of person, being fed upon by one of those nightwalkers, them who had so many variants and thankfully didn't sparkle.

On any other day, Teddy would perhaps have snuck up on that vampire and seen if he could nick a few items, or maybe provide background music. But right now he was feeling particularly annoying.

Teddy sank into the ground and slowly made his way under where the body was, and once he was right under it, phased into it, his mass carefully juggled into the empty spaces between atoms. Most people thought him a simple, whimsical person, which was probably true, but the sheer amount of focus it took just to be inside rock was something most overlooked, or probably would not have thought him capable of.

Now he overlapped with the corpse, not one inch of his own blue skin showing anywhere. From within that body he spoke, in a drastically different, a far more sinister voice than normal. "For this act, abhorrent and vile, what price should you pay? Tell me what the life of one is worth, and I shall pass judgment."

First, the bait. There was something he had in mind, something he had to test, but first, a performer always tested his audience's reactions.

The Shining · Apr 12, 2016

It had been a night like any other. Cool, dark, still spotted with damaged buildings and the occasional ambulance since the tsunami hit. The smell of blood was still lingering to those with senses fine-tuned for the stuff, no matter how much people tried to wash it away. In fact, to certain members of the aforementioned fine-tuned species, the smell could be considered intoxicating. Appetizing, even. One such creature was the vampyr known as Dragomir Forgách. Not to mention that during this particular night, he was thirsty.

He hadn't spent a lot of time on the island just yet. In fact, he was still adjusting to seeing magic and monsters wherever he turned. Nothing could truly surprise him anymore, but after spending so long thinking he was a rarity - perhaps even one of a kind - it took a while to properly get used to the fact that there were countless entities sharing similar traits to his own, or stranger than his own still. While he had managed to get himself a proper resting place relatively quickly, he had yet to find himself a reliable source of income. Which meant no blood the "legal" way that was established in this community. In fact, the only place he had found that offered what he needed was incredibly overprized.

Thus, he found himself skulking in a dark alleyway, just like he had back in the "mundane" world. Nothing was different on Manta Carlos, there was just more to look out for. At times, Dragomir wondered why he had moved at all. Some vain hope that these islands would make it easier for him, perhaps. Well, all he had gotten was a torrent of new developments to adapt to.

Or well, mostly. There was one thing that was for the better thus far.

Everyone felt so much safer here. He could use that.

This false sense of security was what Dragomir had used. A lone citizen, seemingly with their head in the clouds had passed by and he had lashed out. Grabbed them, pulled them in and slammed their head against a nearby wall, rendering them unconscious. All was done quickly, efficiently and with plenty of practice behind it. Hidden behind a dumpster, yellow teeth had dug themselves into his prey's neck, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of thick, dark warmth. An almost ecstatic sensation, feeding was, and it only got better as he knew that a whole body was going to serve him for more than a month. He didn't need to take a risk like this again in a long time, perhaps he could find some way to properly settle down during that time, perhaps.

With one last wet gulp, the large, pale creatures threw its victim to the side. Now all he had to do was put some weights on the body, a simple rock would do, and toss it into the ocean. Knowing the local naval wildlife, it would be unrecognizable once anyone did find it. Simple.

That is, until the body suddenly spoke to him. Frankly, Dragomir was so caught up in his old patterns that he had forgotten how commonplace the supernatural was for a moment. His head snapped to attention and he took a step back as his hand found the grip of his blade on his back. Black eyes watched the body carefully, his lower lip and chin still red with the messy gorging that had been done.

"Ghost..?" As always, his voice was more a low, rumbling mumble than anything else (g'st?) but he did appear more... Confused than properly scared. This was his first time interacting with anything like this, after all. Did he have to separate head from body? Or was this something stranger, still?

Der Lampman · Apr 21, 2016

"You appear to have developed some sort of... hmm... appreciation for my innermost bits. I'd have requested you give them back, though I doubt you'd be capable of that."

Teddy scrunched from inside the body. There was enough space there for him to fit, and there was enough control in him to keep himself from being crushed out of existence, juggling himself in the spaces between atoms. But for this next trick... it was going to be on an entirely different level.

He willed his density to rearrange, scrunching up his face in focus, though from outside it looked just like a corpse doing corpse things. Bits of him solidified in precise locations, and bits of him stayed intangible inside the body.

And then he moved.

The corpse followed, pushed along by the tiny solid bits inside, although it moved horribly sluggishly. First were the fingers, slowly flexing and unfurling at a speed much to slow for Teddy. Then came the arms, unnaturally straight and stiff. Carefully, the two arms began to move around, finding purchase on the floor and slowly but surely propping the body up.

"Rigor mortis does not quite help with my agility. Hmm. I would have preferred my old state. My mouth doesn't even follow properly when I speak." Teddy talked, but he couldn't figure out how to make the lips follow his movements yet. The voice came out through closed lips and gritted teeth.

It was a difficult thing, to stay inside another object and make it move while keeping himself entirely in. Sometimes, Teddy felt too comfortable being intangible that he forgot how difficult it was to actually be solid.

This was a useful experiment, however. There were many more doors open now, none of which were probably to be of any real use.

"Well," he said, stretching out the corpse's hands slowly to the front of his face. "How did I taste?"

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painting the town with the wrong red hue

Der Lampman

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The Shining

Active Member

Der Lampman

Well-Known Member