Xenos.
Said like the speaker had something vile in his mouth.
His actions towards the cowering civilian sent a cold chill through Kitja; one that hadn't been felt in some time. Not quite fear, but revulsion. These despicable crest bearing men come falling down from the sky onto a planet long ago claimed by the Camarilla, throwing around obscenities they know nothing of. Xenos. The only alien in this picture was their invader, swathed in armor and cloaked in false privilege, with a body too large to be mistaken for human. The bartender would die, and those of the Kindred would stand statuesque in their decadence, with their finery on display, while their muzzled citizens stayed complacent. Obedience ingrained in their genetics, these beasts had long ago been stripped of their will to avoid situations just like this one.
The crowd would sway while watching the murder, shuddering and upset, but soon returned to that very same wall of gawking and gazing faces- all directed at the soldier.
Kitja narrowed her gaze as if attempting to understand just what this stranger wanted, but if no one else in the crowd knew, there was no expectation for information to come easily. Telepathy only made matters worse, the echo of voices belonging to the surrounding Kindred were all streaming mentally through her consciousness, confused.
'Xenos? Us?'
'But we have been here close to nine hundred years!'
'What else is there, here?'
'But we do nothing to have drawn attention!'
'-or perhaps they were summoned?'
'An Army?'
'Who is this army?'
'Someone called for them?'
Muttering a few words of disdain under her breath, Kitja's lids lowered heavily and for a moment she listened to the outside world. Those speaking in her head were silenced, or simply ignored, for the sake of time. No one in the crowd seemed to be answering the man though, silence contagious throughout- save for the wail of sharp sirens overhead as a high alert was issued. The paneled flat-walls of the city began to grind, and a few onlookers broke their attention from the male to take in the shifting of the barrier. Reopening her gaze, Kitja followed suit, but just as quickly as the woman realized what was happening, someone nearest to the back screamed, "LOCKDOWN!" and general panic ensued.
Their metropolis was massive in it's grandeur, with a high dome rising over it's Kievan Rus' architecture and Byzantium-esque towers. An alien earth, too far in the future to reflect the same places earth once boasted, but reminiscent in it's isolation. The Kindred had remembered enough of their home to build from it, though it wouldn't matter what history was restored here if this group of invaders were coming for carnage. It was the group that dispersed first, with Kitja left standing in it's frightened wake, as the high walls all encircled in lurching shutter to ensure the encasing installed would protect the city in the barricade design chosen. A partially submerged Scrith based dome shadowed an already dim setting, shutting above the main street while streets were sectioned off in accordance to zones. More sirens had sounded, their pitches an eerie cacophany of noise through which the screams of natives seemed almost pleasing as a means to break the monotony. This world was dying, inhabited by the dead, and soon to be drenched in blood.
Kitja returned her features to the stranger, her garments far too extravagant and flashy to mistaken for common, and raised one sculpted eyebrow in question.
"What have you done, Inozemets?"
Said like the speaker had something vile in his mouth.
His actions towards the cowering civilian sent a cold chill through Kitja; one that hadn't been felt in some time. Not quite fear, but revulsion. These despicable crest bearing men come falling down from the sky onto a planet long ago claimed by the Camarilla, throwing around obscenities they know nothing of. Xenos. The only alien in this picture was their invader, swathed in armor and cloaked in false privilege, with a body too large to be mistaken for human. The bartender would die, and those of the Kindred would stand statuesque in their decadence, with their finery on display, while their muzzled citizens stayed complacent. Obedience ingrained in their genetics, these beasts had long ago been stripped of their will to avoid situations just like this one.
The crowd would sway while watching the murder, shuddering and upset, but soon returned to that very same wall of gawking and gazing faces- all directed at the soldier.
Kitja narrowed her gaze as if attempting to understand just what this stranger wanted, but if no one else in the crowd knew, there was no expectation for information to come easily. Telepathy only made matters worse, the echo of voices belonging to the surrounding Kindred were all streaming mentally through her consciousness, confused.
'Xenos? Us?'
'But we have been here close to nine hundred years!'
'What else is there, here?'
'But we do nothing to have drawn attention!'
'-or perhaps they were summoned?'
'An Army?'
'Who is this army?'
'Someone called for them?'
Muttering a few words of disdain under her breath, Kitja's lids lowered heavily and for a moment she listened to the outside world. Those speaking in her head were silenced, or simply ignored, for the sake of time. No one in the crowd seemed to be answering the man though, silence contagious throughout- save for the wail of sharp sirens overhead as a high alert was issued. The paneled flat-walls of the city began to grind, and a few onlookers broke their attention from the male to take in the shifting of the barrier. Reopening her gaze, Kitja followed suit, but just as quickly as the woman realized what was happening, someone nearest to the back screamed, "LOCKDOWN!" and general panic ensued.
Their metropolis was massive in it's grandeur, with a high dome rising over it's Kievan Rus' architecture and Byzantium-esque towers. An alien earth, too far in the future to reflect the same places earth once boasted, but reminiscent in it's isolation. The Kindred had remembered enough of their home to build from it, though it wouldn't matter what history was restored here if this group of invaders were coming for carnage. It was the group that dispersed first, with Kitja left standing in it's frightened wake, as the high walls all encircled in lurching shutter to ensure the encasing installed would protect the city in the barricade design chosen. A partially submerged Scrith based dome shadowed an already dim setting, shutting above the main street while streets were sectioned off in accordance to zones. More sirens had sounded, their pitches an eerie cacophany of noise through which the screams of natives seemed almost pleasing as a means to break the monotony. This world was dying, inhabited by the dead, and soon to be drenched in blood.
Kitja returned her features to the stranger, her garments far too extravagant and flashy to mistaken for common, and raised one sculpted eyebrow in question.
"What have you done, Inozemets?"
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 11-23-2015, 10:51 PM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 12-19-2015, 01:20 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 12-22-2015, 11:02 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 12-25-2015, 01:02 PM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-09-2016, 01:48 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-09-2016, 03:23 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-09-2016, 04:40 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-09-2016, 06:01 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-10-2016, 03:09 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-10-2016, 04:29 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 01-10-2016, 06:26 AM
RE: Carpe Noctem [closed] - by Kat - 02-24-2016, 08:18 AM