WHY AREN'T THE STARS THAT BRIGHT TONIGHT? -OPEN

[OLIVIA THORNE]

It was one of those nights where Olivia was extremely hungry. She fed every night, a reasonable amount. But for some reason on this night she wanted more. Her thirst was strong and she couldn't stop it. Nor did she want to. She found herself walking down the paved streets of Port Angeles. There were rows of shops and small apartments along the left of her and the water on her right. The sound of the waves crashing up on the brick wall and the sound of sea gals fly over her head. It was night time, but it still seemed the street was as busy as ever. After a few minutes walk she found herself getting to a spot in town that was less busy and crowded. Only a couple of people walk by every now and again along with a few cars too. She searched around of a meal, not being particularity picky.

Finally she spotted a young female that smelt delicious to her. She could smell the sweet scent of flowers from her, it made her mouth water. She could hear the blood pumping through her veins. Olivia noticed she was alone and was heading towards a dark alley. If the girl was stupid enough to walk down a alley by herself, she deserved to be eaten. Taking a few short steps she flew behind the girl, moving so quickly she would seem like a blur to the mere human. Grabing her arms tightly, she opened her mouth and turned her head as she bit into the girls lower neck. The girl tried to cry out in pain but she couldn't raise her voice to do so. The blood slid down her throat like a fine wine, although thick and sweet. She could feel the girls heart beat starting to slow down. As Olivia touched the victim, she told her, in her mind, to be quiet and still. She listened with no way to fight back. Once Olivia was done she dropped the girl on the ground, making a thud. She pulled out her white handkerchief and patted the corners of her lips. Licking the remaining blood off of her chin and lips she headed out of the alley. She wasn't scared or worried someone would find the body. These stupid humans could fathom what was really out there in the world. She remembered a time when there were no laws. An no men strong enough to enforce them. Their weak little hearts couldn't take it. And this is what Olivia strongly believed. Now she felt fulfilled but now bored. What else was there to do for fun? She could cause a little havoc but it didn't seem to please her at the moment. She wasn't in the right mood for attention.

Olivia slowly walked towards to the sound of the crashing waves. She stood there silently and starred out into the dark ocean. The moon was in a crescent shape and the stars weren't too bright out tonight. She thought back about her hometown in New Orleans. The stars were always bright there and it was always warm. The water smelled different here than at home. The food was alot better too. She missed that place dearly, and often went back. But she was so close to finding the Cullens, and finally Jasper, that she couldn't leave now.

TAG!? OPEN
WORD COUNT!? 562
OUTFIT!? ABOVE ^

[cindralic]

Some would say that love was bitter sweet but to Cindralic love was simply bitter. There was nothing wrong with Cindralic as far he could see but the whole aspect of love was a bit useless. It was a pointless human emotion that was shared by two people and completely relative and conditional. No one could say they had unconditional for someone else because human put perimeters on everything and even the slightest thing can change the emotions someone has for another. Cindralic hated human emotion. He loved having a cold calloused heart that he didn’t have to worry about feelings. Humans could never do what Cindralic did. They could never mercilessly butcher and feed upon thousands of their own kind. Humans would let their emotions stop them, their conscious their sense of moral law that didn’t actually exist for vampires. The only time a vampire thought he had grown a conscious it was because he had been around humans for far too long. They were an infectious disease, a hopeless burden and a useless species. They were cattle to be farmed and more populating than bacteria. There needed to be someone like Cindralic to even out the population. Some would think he was a useless and vile creature but Cindralic saw himself as something completely different. He was a hunter, the top of the food chain and deserved to be given that credit.

Cindralic came forth from the sea on this night. His home was on a sandbar island farther out in the bay of this particular port. Technically it wasn’t really a home but somewhere he could remain in the shade and amongst the rock caves nearby during the sunlight of the day. Cindralic had no desire to come out during the day whether he was physically capable of doing it or not. Cindralic; however, on nights came in like the tide. He didn’t need to breath air and could walk on the bottom of the ocean floor if he chose. Cindralic came in with the surf this night. His black garbs, his hood and cloak drenched from the water. His dark weapon hidden amongst his clothing but ready to be wielded at any moment’s notice. Cindralic was an arbiter of death, an assailant from hell and an assassin of the devil himself…or so Cindralic liked to claim. The waves washed back and forth against Cindralic as he began to walk towards the shore. There was someone on the shoreline tonight… Cindralic’s head was bowed, his facial features nearly impossible to make out in the dim light of the moon. Clouds covered the stars and dimmed the night lights of the heavens. The waves broke on Cindralic’s back, water and sand dripped off of him and back from where it came. Mikel walked calmly, slowly towards this single person on the beach.

She was like him, a vampire and Cindralic could smell the blood on her breath. She had already fed tonight. It was a woman, a young woman. Her blood was sweet, her sent was strong. Cindralic’s cold yellow eyes observed the female vampire. Was she like the rest of her race that Cindralic had met in his time? Cindralic had found the female race of vampires to be whores, sluts, prostitutes, using their female attributes to lure in their prey instead of truly hunting. Any prey, especially a man would be learned in easily by an attractive and seductive woman. What game or sport was there in that? Killing was an art, a profession, a beautiful thing when done correctly. At least this vampire had killed a woman instead of a man so perhaps she was not so willing to whore herself off for food. Honestly female vampires in Cindralic mind usually weren’t too much better than human prostitutes. Both gave sex or offered it at least to get what they wanted. For vampires it was a meal and for humans it was money. Remarkably had close the two species actually were to one another. Cindralic had exited the surf and walked along the shore heading straight for the woman. His right hand reached into his cloak for his curved black sword hidden cleverly within the numerous drenched black garbs that surrounded him. A soft wind blew causing a few of his torn cloaks to blow behind him, making him look seemingly look a dark cloud moving towards the woman with only yellow eyes able to be seen.

[OLIVIA THORNE]

The streets were nearing to their emptiness at a quick speed. It had seemed to Olivia that time around her was moving extremely fast but she was not. The sounds of the waves crashing up on the shore sang in her ears, feeling as if the sound was coming from inside her head. She would often get a sudden head rush if she ate too fast. That must of been what the feeling was. The birds had disappeared, leaving only the crickets to make their own sorts of noises. Olivia really hated the crickets, especially since her hearing has heightened. They sounded like nails on a chalkboard to her. If she could just kill them all she would. Along with the remaining humans that stood nearby, standing there, watching and pointing at her. She wished they would stop looking at her like she was an accesory item. If she wanted, Olivia could cut their achilies heel so they couldn't run from her and slowly rip their insides out with a pitch fork and then bathe in their blood, all for her amusement. Their tounges would be cut out and their vocal cords ripped out so they couldn't scream for help. No matter how much she hates the people she does, she does often thank them for showing her the things she could do to people.

Starring back at the two humans she smiled, her white fangs glisening in the light from the street lamp. She was about to move her position towards them but suddenly hesitated. A scent filled her nostrils. It was sweet, but tainted. Like a bowl of pure, sweet honey but served with the live bee's with it. It was exciting for her, and it caught her attention quickly. Turning her head to her right she looked out into the ocean. The smell was coming from there but she couldn't see anything. Taking a few steps closer, her golden heels clanking against the stone pavement, and stopped in front of the stairs leading towards the beach. She rested her pale but brightly painted hands on the cold bar fence. It was only then that she could see a tall and dark figure emerge from the waters. The intoxicating smell must of came from him, knowing that only a vampire can smell like that. He had just walked out of the water as if he was walking on land. No human or werewolf could do that. He had a darkness about him though. A mystery that was deeply hidden and extremely dangerous. His scent was like a poison, intoxicating her while his glowing yellow eyes pierced her like a arrow. Olivia wanted to know who he was. And he was walking straight towards her.

She gracefully placed her left hand on her hip as her right was resting on the stair's railing. The only light around was the moonlight and a distant street light that softly illuminated her fiery hair. Her right leg was resting on the ground as all her weight was on her left. Her crimson eyes tracked his movements like he was prey. With a smirk she figured by the looks of him she would have to be the first one to speak. "It's not every night that I see someone walk out of the water like that. I bet you like to do that a lot." she said in her Southern Belle accent with a playful, but sarcastic tone.

[cindralic]

This vampire wasn’t ready for a fight. Cindralic could tell that she didn’t fully comprehend what Cindralic was, who he was and what his motives were. She had her hand on her hip, her balance was placed on one foot and it did not seem like she had any weapons her. Of course, not all vampires needed to have weapons. They were more than well enough equipped with speed and strength. However, Cindralic had always found that it was easier to do one’s business when a weapon was available. Cindralic was just as just and even more deadly with something with longer range. Cindralic’s curve black sword as around three and a half feet long, had the curve in the middle of the sword and the majority of the weight on the front end, giving the sword great slashing power. Cindralic could use a dull sword and cut someone’s limbs off just because he was naturally gifted with strength but the sword he wielded was sharper than a scalpel and a five year old could have enough force to cut off a limb with it. The weapon could be wielded so quickly and well by Cindralic that it seemed to look like a black mist rather than an actual object of metal. It had never broken, never rusted, never been dulled. The sword had been Cindralic’s weapon of choice for his entire life for over a century. Some people preferred guns but Cindralic liked the traditional approach of a sword. It was clean and much more personal than a firearm.

Cindralic’s clothes blew in the breeze behind him as he walked to the female vampire. She spoke to him first. Her words meant nothing to Cindralic. He was coming to the realization that this woman was not going to pose anything threat to him. She was though, on what Cindralic considered to be his territory. Then he smelled it all the more. He could smell her breath and the fresh blood from her recent feast. Cindralic stopped four feet from her, his dark shrouds falling by him, simply rustling in the wind now. Cindralic’s cold yellow eyes peered into Olivia’s red ones and there was a moment where will’s met. Cindralic was a cold hearted killer. He had no remorse for those he killed, no respect for those he fed on. To him they were cattle. This woman had fed on his land and now she stood before him without even the slightest gesture of respect. Her posture showed that she was clearly not used to being in front of the older vampires. The Volturi had not paid her a visit yet Cindralic presumed. What was truly amusing was that Cindralic outdated most of them as well. She looked so innocent, so completely tranquil and harmless in her little blue dress and heels. She could blend right in with the humans that she was so used to be around. Cindralic on the other hand stood out and Cindralic quite honestly didn’t care. Anyone that would stop him would soon feel their heart stop as it was ripped from their bodies. Sometimes Cindralic didn’t kill to feed but to make a point. He wasn’t sure what point to make to this…female.

Their eyes met for only a short time before Cindralic’s eyes gazed over the rest of her. He didn’t care what her thoughts would be as his eyes worked their way up and down her entire body, examining every curve and inch of her. She hadn’t been in a lot of fights with her own kind. Those sorts of fights usually left scars. Cindralic had plenty of those but all were hidden beneath his many layers of clothing. This woman seemed to only be wearing one layer and that was yet another thing Cindralic differed with her on. It was a blast from the past. A modern vampire meeting an old fashioned traditionalist with a short temper and a lot more potential to do something rash. Cindralic’s voice was something of a hideous nature. It was like something from a scary movie, something deep yet distorted. His words were slow and dragged out in a “dripping” and “poisonous” sort of way. It would almost seem like the words themselves were enough to kill someone. His South American accent was still somewhat there and his English had never been perfect. “You pleasure yourself in your kill, in the rich blood of a helpless victim. You know of the sweet nectar that flows from the veins of a helpless woman. Delightful. There is something about it isn’t there…They know they are dead, know they are helpless. They struggle. But then they quit and simply allow you to drink them until it is over and the cold shallow death grasps them. Their eyes fade, the arms limp, their body no longer heaving, a heart with no more blood to pump. Delicious feed.” He paused, his head going from a downcast position to looking directly in the eyes. A dark shadow from his dark hood still cast over his face. “But my kill…!” Cindralic hissed, his hand fully grasping his sword now.

[OLIVIA THORNE]

Olivia was intrigued. She looked at him profusely, his aura was radiating black clouds of smoke around him. She could only see his eyes and partly his face for his black cloak covering the rest of his body. His stride and posture admitted confidence but he also seemed aloof. She has met a lot of vampires through out the years but never one that was shrouded in this much mystery. Olivia liked surprises. And she was sure she was in for one. His smell was just as alluring as his presence was. Olivia had never sensed anything so dark and pure, it was like an addictive drug that kept calling her name. Thats how magic was for her. She was not powerful or well known for it, but she did know a few things. Enough to keep her alive and maybe a little more. She could remember the days when her grandfather would teach her simple things like moving objects and reading people's aura's. But when she got old enough he taught her more dangerous things such as hexes, voodoo dolls, and binding. She was thankful for that, always putting the knowledge to use. And with that knowledge she could also sense how much older the stranger was. She could almost smell the scent of old things, she figured he must be one of the few vampires that actually made it this far into the modern age. She hadn't met a lot of vampires that were born before Jesus. Only Aro, from the Voulturi. But he didn't even seem as evil as this man did. Aro look like a girl in a bunny suit compared to this dark avenger.

Once he finally stopped in front of her, a shiver ran down her spine. If her heart wasn't already not beating, it would of stopped because of him. Goosebumps ran down her arms as she carefully glanced at him. She felt like if she made one wrong move he would probably rip her in half. In a way she would like that, but only if she got to do it to him too. She was twisted in that kind of way. She may look all dolled up and innocent, but thats only on the outside. She was and will always be a woman. Vampire or not. Her sense of style and appearance mattered to her. Before she was a vampire all she would wear were corsets and skirts. Now she had the freedom to wear anything she wanted. She did not like to be the one standing out in the crowd until she felt the time was right for her. She wanted to give her victims a sense of security before she tortured them and then would finally kill them. Of course not every woman drink blood to survive so that is the one thing that sets her apart. She wasn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty, and have fun while doing it.

“You pleasure yourself in your kill, in the rich blood of a helpless victim. You know of the sweet nectar that flows from the veins of a helpless woman. Delightful. It was a little random for her, but she didn't mind it. She often fell into the company of some very strange people. There is something about it isn’t there…They know they are dead, know they are helpless. They struggle. But then they quit and simply allow you to drink them until it is over and the cold shallow death grasps them. Their eyes fade, the arms limp, their body no longer heaving, a heart with no more blood to pump. Delicious feed." Now it seemed to Olivia that he was not from here. And so was she, but at least she was American. His voice was dark, seductive, but also deadly like a poisonous spider. Olivia loved spiders. His words sounded like a twisted Edgar Allen Poe poem, but they were soothing to her ears. She did love the way it felt to slowly kill someone from the inside out. Their screams were like song birds and their blood tasted like sweet red wine. She liked the way the heart beat's rhythm accelerated as the victim became more scared and then finally the heart slowing down as they died. “But my kill…!” She glanced down towards his hand and noticed something shiny. Guessing from the rest of his outfit it was probably a blade or sword of some sorts. She did not feel threatened or scared so she held her ground and corrected her posture as she stood fully erect. Now her fingers in tangled each other in front of her. Looking at his barely showing face she opened her ruby lips "I often enjoy a young meal. I do have to say though that to me women taste better than men. Their blood is by far sweeter. But it's not just their blood that I crave. Their screams are intoxicating, the smell of fear that pours off of them is exhilerating." she responded and she licked her finger for there was still a blood drop on her nail that she must of missed before. She slowly walked around him, eyeing him up and down as she continued. "Their warm bodies, their pulsating veins that are pumped full of sweets. It tastes forbidden but yet you take a bite anyways. I cut them open to take a look inside, pull apart every little piece and put them back in a completely different spot, just to see them squirm. Pulling and tearing and even more screaming until their puny little hearts cant take it. For me, my dear darling, it's not just about eating your food, but also playing with it too." she said in a low but playful voice, finally stopping back in the same spot as before.

[cindralic]

A woman after Cindralic’s own heart. It was too bad that he had long ago given his heart to the devil himself. Cindralic had not played with his food in the manner in which Olivia expressed it in quite some time. Cindralic loved to kill, loved to torment, loved to cause physical harm and detriment to his victims before he killed them. It wasn’t the actual thought of killing them slowly that excited Cindralic as much as the reactions that really addicted him to death. Everyone had their own way of expressing and living out their last moments on earth. Cindralic loved to see them whimper and realize that it was hopeless. There was a look, one look of desperation, one look of despair that was even more addicting to Cindralic than the taste of blood itself. Cindralic fed off of it, his thoughts were bent on it. Cindralic would always look his victims in the eye before their final moment struck just to see it, just to witness the hopelessness. Perhaps it was because they so often realized that there was nothing beyond the life they knew. There was no paradise waiting for them on the other side of their cruel death; just a burning hell of fire that were eternally burn. Humans, like Cindralic were masters of the principalities of the air and this world. No matter who believed otherwise, Cindralic knew the world was a dark one, a cruel place, and no matter place waited for the majority of the people that populated the world. Cindralic was more than happy to send them to hell. Cindralic was sure that it was that feeling, that sudden realization that they were damned eternally that gripped them in their moment of death. There were no fuzzy feelings and no white lights…only darkness and Cindralic had surrounded himself with it.

Cindralic would have been alright with her just speaking with him for a moment but then she began to do one of the things that Cindralic was easily offended by. She began to circle him and Cindralic was one of those people that took such actions as aggression and a challenge. Cindralic did not allow people to challenge him and live to tell about the encounter. It wasn’t that Cindralic was easily offended or felt threatened, it was simply one of those things that he felt he deserved respect. He deserved respect because of his age, because of his power and because of who he was. She had to smell that he was a powerful vampire and she had to know that he was one of the older ones. He could very well be one of the oldest left alive and easily be one of the oldest vampires she had ever met. Yet she still chose to circle him and observe him. Perhaps she did have some right to do so because he had done the same to her but in Cindralic’s mind he was allowed to do that because of his prestige. Cindralic didn’t expect a challenge from someone…lesser and then himself. Cindralic was in no mood for games at the moment; in fact, he never was. The woman continued to speak about her own taste for blood and her own love of the kill. Cindralic wasn’t going to have her challenging him though.

Cindralic watched her as she continued to pace around him. Cindralic’s head turned with her until she was completely behind him and then his body moved and turned with her so she was constantly facing him. He was not going to let anyone, especially a vampire behind him. He might have a small code of honor amongst vampires but this vampire might not. Cindralic didn’t take chances. Cindralic waited for Olivia to come to almost a complete stop but before she could return to the exact stance she had started with before she began to circle him a dark black pressed against her soft neck. There was no sound of a sword being unsheathed, only the quick movement of a cloak removed and sword extended. Cindralic took one step backwards so that the extent of his sword would not kill her. He just wanted the edge against her tender neck. Cindralic’s feet were set apart, his arm extended, his gaze on the woman. He paused and took a deep breath as he looked at her. His dark voice uttered more words. “Do not begin to assume the same rights as do I. My reign is longer than your own. I have the authority here.” He looked at his sword for a moment, “Not because of this but because of me. I play no games, leave no survivors. Why do you test me? Is it your ignorance, stupidity or do you truly wish to challenge me? Watch your actions for some of them could very easily be your last.” Cindralic hissed aggressively.

[OLIVIA THORNE]

She often didn't talk to strangers, she found other Vampire's competition and often a burden. She had learned that their numbers were quickly increasing, worried about the newborns she often kept to herself. She could remember when she was that someone biting people, changing their lives. Their screams and pleas still sang in her head like a little lullaby. Back then she received no pleasure from this, but now with more experience and her hatred for other vampire's she finds delight in the fact that she created vampire's to only kill them a year later. She often finds herself coming across a vampire herself, and somehow they piss her off leaving her with no choice but to end their long and pathetic lives. So far she has had no trouble, gaining a few wounds that healed quickly leaving no scars. Olivia had realized this was what was probably happing right now. But now she was on the other end of the fence. “Do not begin to assume the same rights as do I. My reign is longer than your own. I have the authority here.”

She could feel the coldness of the sword pressing against her neck. If she wanted to with just a touch on his arm, her will could be her's. With her power she could tell him to do what she wanted. But something inside told her that wouldn't work. She hesitated on raising her hand. Luckily she doesn't have to breath so he can't choke her but she was afraid he was cut her head off. Olivia did not want this to happen. But of course this wasn't the first time a man held a sword to her throat. Or even a gun for that matter. If she was paid a penny for everytime someone threatend to kill her with a sword she would be a billionaire. She was already rich as it is. Back then she probably would of built up her rage and would of lashed out. Feeling as if she was defending herself, she would attack with all she had. Obviously she has won every encounter since she is still here, but she has grown tired of them. Every man has his rights and honors, as they like to call them. Certain rules you have to follow and if you don't you'll piss them off. For years Olivia had to follow rules and do their bidding, but now it was her turn to be the master. Her prostitution days in West were over and she didn't like the reminders. She often wished she was born in the modern world, where women had rights and they didn't have to marry to survive. She felt as if she was to keep her dignity, she could let no man tell her he was better than her. The last time a man told her so she shot him in the privates with his own gun, hung him upside down an gutted him until he bled to death. She was found sitting in the chair not twenty feet away drinking his blood in a wine glass, the gun in her lap. “Not because of this but because of me. I play no games, leave no survivors. Why do you test me? Is it your ignorance, stupidity or do you truly wish to challenge me? Watch your actions for some of them could very easily be your last.”

Olivia let out a sign. She wondered who told this man he had the right to threaten her like this. There were hundreds of other vampires out there that claimed the same things as well. What set him apart from everyone else. As far as she was concerned she couldn't give a damn who this man was. She has never seen or heard of him before, therefore she had no reason to respect this man. But yet she did anyways. Not because he felt the same way she did about feeding, but from the fact he had enough balls to hold a sword towards her neck. Yes he may be older and more powerful, but his communication and people skills were not as persuasive as her were. Although he had a deep and twisted darkness that surrounded him. He didn't dress like the others and he was the only man in this present day that still held a sword and walked around with it. He was either completely oblivious to his surroundings, stuck in the past or he was a ruthless vampire that just didn't give a damn about others. She liked that. It wasn't a trait easily found. She had no choice but to respect him but she wasn't going to admit it. Her pride took care of that. She held back her anger and set it aside, thinking best to just play it out. She did not want to fight. She smiled and let out a soft laugh and replied. "I have absolutely no idea who you are and where you came from nor do I care that you claim this is your territory. So darling, I have no intentions to fight with you tonight and I am sure as hell not going to stand here and let you treat a lady like this. I don't care if you like to walk around here in that dirty wet cloak of yours, which you probably never wash and with your sword in your hand, talking like this. From where I come from this is not the way to gain it." she soon stopped herself for she felt that she was speaking too much. She could sense his tension and thought best to back away. Yes she may just be a woman but she is also a vengeful vampire that doesn't take kindly to other vampire men. She took a step back away from the sword and rubbed her neck. Feeling her anger slowly dwindle she finished speaking. "Now, since I have manners I will introduce myself, even though you held a sword to my throat. I'm Olivia Thorne. And honey, if someone payed me money for every time some claimed to have "authority" here I would be rich. And I am as a matter of fact so you can tell there are a lot out there like you. What makes you so different from the others?" she stated in her Southern accent. As that happened a 1940's black Mercedes 260D slowly pulled up a few feet behind Olivia. She had been in the area for a while now and after a few hours her chauffeur finds her and picks her up to take her back to the estate. She ignored the car's entrance, feeling as if she was not done speaking with the stranger.

I'm sorry it too me so long. It took me a long while to come up with something that was as good as your posts. =P Hope this is ok for you. I'll change it if needed.