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Post by Deleted on May 13, 2017 9:03:32 GMT
The halls of the Castle were quiet, not long ago he had heard singing and the voices of his friends. But they had left before he was ready to once again mingle with them.
He hadn't quite perfected his appearance and it wouldn't do to appear before his Bishop's old and new, unfinished!
Erskine had heard the voices of others come and go, a few he had even saw himself. As far as he knew he was alone in the Castle. Now he could enter his final stages of his current metamorphosis.
His lair was far beneath the chambers of the Castle, away from the political debates and strutting that always went on in the public halls and private chambers above.
Erskine kept the rooms temperature cool, it helped to maintain freshness of samples. The rooms walls were lined with medical diagrams, whiteboards with Erskine's latest notes and theories and rows of back lighted cabinets. Each cabinet held many things ranging from preserved oddities in nature to medical and surgical equipment. He opened a cabinet door and removed several metal tray and an assortment of surgical tools. Arranging them allowed Erskine to clear his mind, allowing his knowledge and creativity to come to the foreground. He wouldn't actually use any of them, many years ago he had perfected crafting his fingers into the necessary tools for all his surgical needs.
Sandro had prepared the male and female they had acquired in London. Perhaps he would craft the woman into something pleasing for Sandro.
Moving over to a table Erskine had a ghoul light some candles along the wall, the flame flooded the table with light. Erskine picked up a clipboard and pencil and began a thorough examination of the two mortals layed out on the mortuary slabs.
He would pass the time creating something new and magnificent whilst he waited for the return of his friends
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Post by Deleted on May 15, 2017 4:19:33 GMT
It's late on the 7th, really verging on the 8th, when Mary enters the Castle. She wears a floating flowing gown of black lace over satin, reminiscent of the early 1920s. A small clip of peacock feathers extends from a headband holding back her long flowing hair.
She glides up to the bar, accepts a glass of bloodwyne, and stands watching the thinning crowd.
No reason exists for her to be here tonight, except a feeling. So, she takes a seat, and waits, watching...
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Post by Deleted on May 15, 2017 15:43:34 GMT
He had just finished stitching back together the woman's lower jaw when he sensed one of the pack had returned. Carefully he packed up his tool and tasked Sandro with making sure everything was clean for his return.
Erskine stalked through the halls looking for some sign of another in the castle, he was about to give up his search when a familiar scent filled his nostrils. Perfume! Only one other wore that scent. He followed the odour quickening his pace as it led him to the bar. There beautiful as the day he had last seen her was Mary.
'Mary my beauty! Truly you are a work of art!'
Erskine bowed low before his one time Bishop,
'How has our time apart treated you? You look healthy.'
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Post by Deleted on May 16, 2017 2:38:43 GMT
Mary senses him coming, just as he senses her ... she stands to greet him as he crosses the room.
"Erskine, my favourite fiend! I have been well fed and cared for, but lonely. You are the second to return, Exo answered my call only a week or so past. You are truly a sight for tired old eyes!"
She smiles, gently cupping his jaw in her long fingered hand and raising him up.
"How go your experiments? Tell me what you have been occupying yourself with!"
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Post by Deleted on May 16, 2017 8:26:47 GMT
Those delicate fingers he had once laboured so long to perfect worked their magic, the touch was perfection.
He smiled a little, something he rarely did. It was not that Erskine was humorless, it was because of his unique maw. The slightest smile would reveal his lower jaws transformation. Erskine soaked in the perfect lines of her face and the depths of her eyes.
'I have been working on a method of administering a sedative through my fangs, to help with the pain! Like the bite of a mosquito! Insects truly are fascinating creatures. So far I have achieved no success, though I have been able to craft my hands and fingers to deliver a similar sedative.' slipping his hand from under his lab coat he admires it, though the syringe were no longer there he remembered every folded muscle and every stretched tendon.
'Forgive me Mary I am as always lost in my thoughts, you said Exo had returned? How is the newest Bishop holding up? Good I trust!'
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Post by Deleted on May 16, 2017 8:46:41 GMT
[[gah, don't you hate it when you've typed a reply, and the board glitches, and it gets lost! Take two!]]
Mary reached out her hand to caress his cheek when he smiled, the tips of her long fingernails lingering lightly on his lips. "You do remember I don't care, right? But I'm glad you are making progress."
She turns to the bar, orders two fresh glasses, and invited Erskine to sit with her.
"Exo is well. He has been travelling, seeing to the needs of scattered packs as he was ordained to do. But now, at my call, he is back, as are you! I am glad. I have been lonely. The others have not answered yet, but Last Rites must reform. I have a terrace in London, with a basement just for you! And a new childe for us to teach. And new friends to introduce. My time has been busy, mostly with wizards and witches, but lacking the spiritual connection of my pack and our ritae. Say you are coming back?"
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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2017 7:24:47 GMT
(Yes I do, it happened so much when I started that I've taken to writing it out in my email first lol)
Erskine took Mary's delicate hand in his, gently lowering it to his chest.
'I am here am I not? Of course I shall join you once again. I owe you and the others my exsistance!'
His mind travelled back to the fateful night, the Camarilla dogs had finally tracked him to his packs lair and began killing them. Erskine thought he was going to die proper. Then Exo had come crashing through the flames and destruction and laid to waist the Gangrel mongrel that would have killed him, whilst Mary and the others dispatched the remaining Camarilla scum.
Erskine vowed to follow Mary and Exo for the rest of his unnatural life that night,
'You must allow me to make sure my work is still weathering well! Anything you need fixed?'
He took a sip from the wine glass,
'You mentioned a fledgling! Do I need to work with her flesh?'
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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2017 7:44:22 GMT
Mary smiles, and shakes her head "No, all is well. I have not sustained even the smallest injury in recent nights. We need a good hunt, I feel, to get our vitae flowing! And Jasmine ... such is her name ... has not expressed any need of redesign. She was young, and is beautiful already, but the ultimate choice should be hers."
Jasmine was indeed a beauty, taken right in her prime. Unless she had very personal issues with her face and body, she needed no work. Though it was possible she might not wish to be so easily identified by the London wizarding community. But she could decide that for herself.
"Are you already in London? If so, do come soon." Mary pulled her hand back from his chest, but not before leaving four small but deep marks where her long nails rested. It was her way of marking him, claiming him, and that it healed every time meant that she got to enjoy it all over again.
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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2017 10:42:50 GMT
A frown creases Erskine's brow, he was saddened that his pack mates never wanted to advance their vampiric nature. He was sure they would revel in the new forms he could make for them. But it did have to be of their own freewill, though he would never give up on them.
'Of course my darling, I would not force my craft upon the girl! Though I will make suggestions for improvement to her!' the frown slips from his face at the thought of hunting again, he had become to dependant on Sandro whilst he had been busy working recently.
'What shall we hunt my dear? Mortals? Camarilla? Garou? Or maybe something more elusive the Fae?' his mind raced with the thought of actually capturing one of the fair folk, what wonders he could create.
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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2017 11:38:52 GMT
"No need to hunt the fae ... some have become my friends. But ... Camarilla ... now there is a hunt! Come to London, to Regents Park Terrace in Camden. You will fin Exo and I there, and a place for you, too. And we will hunt together once more, and cast a Vaulderie together, and be one again."
She leans in and lightly kisses his cheek, running her fingers through his hair.
"Alas, I must get back now. I have school to teach for another month, then the summer comes and time is ours again!"
Mary stands. "Do not forget! 17 Regents Park Terrace, Camden Town, London. Come soon! We are waiting."
She heads out without looking back.
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