The Belikov Manor

[MeloraBelikov]

The Belikov Manor stood high, reaching for the gray clouds above. Everything beside it was dwarfed in comparison to it's high brick walls. The wrought iron fence also towered above the group standing at the gates. A cartoonishly large lock held the gates together, wrapping them together in a secure hug. All the windows of the house were dark, void of light for years.

Melora used an oversized key that matched the lock to open it, and the fence creaked with warning as it opened. No one entered these gates, and with good reason.

Dead and dried plants lined the brick walkway which winded it's way through what was once a garden and to the front door. A fountain full of standing water stood just to their left. On top was a statue of a particularly happy angel, joyously overlooking the ruin of the front yard.

"Здравствуйте..." She muttered to the statue as she passed it. Her heels clicked along the pathway as she took in the front yard, mentally replacing everything around her with what she remembered. She walked just ahead of everyone in the group, making her way to the door, wishing that the path way would grow 5 feet for every step she took.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Rima was staying composed and had been. Anshel had kept his word on their bargain, kept her in comfortable quarters, and fed, so she had no real complaints other then not being aloud to return to Florence or Venice.

She had remained silent on the trip to Belikov Manor. The Gallian Prince, the one who needed to learn manners, obviously wanted her dead, ripped apart, however was he found fit, she had decided not to give him any motive against her personally.

Now, she walked along behind Melora, staying a good few feet back. Her shackles hadn’t been removed, but the chain had been lengthened to allow her a bit more movement. She donned a grey cashmere jacket, jeans, and a professional blouse, all made for appearance and flexibility. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun, the soft appearance of the tattoo in stark appearance against the pallor of her neck.

Curiosity laced her thoughts. Rima had heard of this place before, in her travels, but she had never once personally been here before. It was beautiful despite the abandoned, aged appearance. How long could this place have been abandoned…? She racked her thoughts for an answer. It may yet prove not to be abandoned, but if it wasn’t, whoever was in charge lacked gardening skills.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura sulked behind th rest of the group, keeping keen eyes on the Blackraven woman who'd so easily charmed Anshel into letting her accompany them to Melora's home. This was not the time to be entertaining prisoners!
Growling quietly to himself, his eyes skimmed the property, taking in any strategical details he might need to remember later in case they were ambushed, or anything else of that nature. It was ingrained into him to look for any and all possibilities in the environments to which he was thrown, and this was no exception. If the Blackraven's knew of Olesia's work and they were indeed trying to get their greasy hands on something to augment their powers, this would be their first stop.
Unless they were fucking stupid.
He sighed, eyes resting on the stagnated fountain, wishing he could find a way to teach the Blackraven hag a lesson or two about nosing her way into other's affairs.
He picked up the pace toward Rima, a cruel smile bowing the straight lines of his lips.
In a single fluid movement, he'd gripped the back of the woman's neck with bruising force as they'd passed the fountain and dunked her head into the stale water, holding her beneath it.
He wouldn't kill her...Or would he?

[Doctor]

Accompany them to Russia and assist in the investigation in lieu of confinement in the Banglaire Hunters' headquarters. Short of death or barbarous restraints, it was all Anshel could do to make sure she didn't escape in the night. Not surprisingly, Rima had accepted the arrangement with little protest. Less surprisingly, Azura and Melora pitched a fucking fit. His skin still burned from the stone-hard stares of murderous rage they fixed on him the entire ride over.

He adjusted his ushanka. The snow white of the fur made the blue of his eyes bright and piercing. In his opinion, aside from vodka, the fashion was the only redeeming quality of Russia.

Anshel's hands had been tucked into the pockets of his heavy, white suede overcoat when the commotion caught his attention. He ripped them out and they met the cold air as he threw himself onto Azura who had gone fucking psychotic and decided to drown the prisoner under his watch. Damn it all. It felt wrong that he had to be the responsible one of the party.

"Azura, get off her, you fucking psycho!" He exclaimed trying to wrestle the king's arms off Rima's neck.

[MeloraBelikov]

Oh no... The voice in Melora's head rang with apathy Azura's gone insane. What a perfect practice in killing time. She came down the steps slowly, watching the commotion unfold in front of her, arms crossed in front of her chest. She paused after each step, reluctant to join the fray. On the one hand, Anshel had it handled...kind of. She watched him try in vain to pry Azura off of Rima. Unless she could pull a crow bar from thin air, she would have little luck trying to pry him off as well. On the other hand, Rima might be killed from drowning and....Melora could really care less. So for now, she continued to watch, wondering to herself if it would really be so bad for Rima. Some vampires could get by for quite sometime without breathing, much longer than humans, anyway.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Rima gagged as soon as water hit her face. She hated being wet with a fiery passion. Taking showers or baths were fine, but this stagnant… muck was absolutely disgusting. She could hold her breath for a long while, but regardless, a brain still required oxygen to function, and she had just bee exhaling when Azura had grabbed her. She couldn’t use her hands either, they were pinned beneath her. She was flexible enough to kick him… but he was also still a male vampire.

Moments later, she could feel somebody, probably Anshel, trying to pry him off.

Her eyes blinked open, stinging from the muck, but morphed to silver. Fight or flight, the most basic instincts, came into play. The most sickening, most terrifying screech ripped from her mind and tore into Azura’s, accompanied with a mental jab. ‘Release me now!’ She screeched right into his mind, partially hoping he got one hell of a headache out of this ordeal.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura snarled, claws digging into the back of her neck as her scream tore through his head. It was like she was right next to his sensitive ears.
In a low hiss, his fangs became visible as he turned on Anshel, hand still prying the woman beneath the water behind him.
He started at the judge for a long moment, eyes burning with such unmitigated hatred that they should have caused the dye to bubble right out of the man's designer jacket. Finally, after several long minutes, he picked her up and tossed her onto the filthy flagstones beneath him, eyes never breaking from Anshel's.
Hissing again, he promptly turned and stalked toward Melora, primal need to beat the shit out of something still coursing through his blood.
A low constant growl followed the even beat of his footsteps along the walkway until he came to the stairs at which he stopped, glancing at Melora.

[MeloraBelikov]

Her arms crossed tighter around herself with his stare. He wasn't about her hurt her, she thought. Glancing back to Rima she had to stifle a giggle, the woman was covered in rot water and had likely inhaled some as well, a thought which nearly made her smile, right until she turned back to the doorway.

All happiness left her when she stared at the door, knowing that she wasn't ready for what was behind it. Deeply inhaling, she unlocked the front door and turned the handle, pushing the door open. It swung open with the tell tale creaks of old age, leaving dust falling in it's wake. She stood at the entryway, speechless and unmoving, frozen in her own fear.

[Doctor]

That little fucker had the nerve to glare at him. At that moment, with Rima's head still forced under the stale fountain water by Azura's hands, Anshel came to realize just how out of his mind this Gallu was. Whether Azura was in fact psychotic or if his age left him too underdeveloped to exercise restraint he couldn't guess, but either way he'd have to keep his guard up around Azura more than he had before. He was very disappointed.

Without a glance to the King's retreating back, Anshel knelt down next Rima who was sprawled across the mossy walkway. He held her up by her shoulders and cupped her jaw. No blood, but she was breathing harshly. He used a hand to brush the sopping hair from her eyes and met them with regret.

"I'm so sorry. I have failed to protect you and beg your forgiveness." As far as he knew, an innocent under his care was almost drowned and it was a shitty feeling. He took a key from the pocket of his riding pants and released her shackles, taking them from her and throwing them to the side with a clang. "Stay beside me. It won't happen again." He swore it.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Rima’s eyes turned dangerous after the Gallian Prince, silver flashing. “Those young ones really must learn manners. Not all of your Elders will take this ignorance well.” She dared to murmur. Her tone was so low, that she was positive Azura hadn’t heard, although Anshel might have. Her patience with that Vampire Child were wearing dangerously thin.

She could feel the angry crescents oozing blood down the back of her neck, and ran her hand over them. They would heal shortly, but in the mean time the bright crimson over the pale white of her flesh bothered her, reminded her of Thomas’ blood on her hands. She almost projected the thought.

Her eyes turned to normal, and her gaze locked with Anshel’s as he helped her up and cupped her jaw. Was he actually being tender? This was a feeling… Nobody had worried over her in some years. An odd feeling to once again get from somebody. Then he did a another thing that shocked her. In that single fluid motion her shackles were gone, and he had asked for… her forgiveness?

‘Thank you Anshel. And you have nothing to apologize for.’ She projected into his mind, far softer then the brazen tone she had used with Azura.

[Doctor]

He expected a vampire of her age to be indignant and eager to curse him out. Perhaps being such a recluse had tempered that in Rima. Despite her refusal to lay blame on him, he still felt like a terrible failure.

"Yes, I do," he stated unwaveringly. "It is my duty to keep you from harm. I will not be inattentive any longer." She was still a mystery, but her age, at least, gave him some ground of understanding and connection. "You and I will stick together through this ordeal, alright? How else are we to protect ourselves from the young?"

He took her arm and placed his hand at the small of her back, leading her to the stoop of the Belikov home where the children stood.

[AzuraGallu]

"You'll be fine." Azura's voice sounded from directly beside her.
He stood in the foyer of the manor, eyes looking around and grasping the true horror of the last night this house was full of life.
There was blood everywhere. A pool under his feet had the tell tale sticky crunch of dried blood, probably from some kind of blunt force trauma, maybe even a gun shot wound. But the angle of some of the splatters on the walls. Those took a certain creativity with weaponry. One such stain began in a huge splatter on the far wall, arching up clear onto the ceiling.
Must have hurt, he mused idly following the stain along its path before his eyes fell on Melora again.
He frowned at her obvious fear. She'd never really stricken him as the type to simply freeze, and now his anger had faded, luckily for the Blackraven.
Up until he was distracted by the gore, he'd been considering other ways to dispatch, or merely retard her. A heavy potted plant, loose piece of stone from the steps outside, a nicely fashioned stake from a broken piece of wooden molding.
This house was deliciously wrought with weaponry.

[MeloraBelikov]

Finally she released her breath, coming back to the reality before her. She stepped into the hallway after Azura, leaving footprints in the thick dust below her feet. Everything was still bloody and still a mess, just like she remembered. Artwork from all around the world lay broken at their feet, Melora made a careful effort to step around the things on the floor.

Her head was spinning by now and she felt a wave of nausea come over her. Her face became even more pale than usual. Still, she took another step forward, towards the grand marble staircase directly in the center of the entry way. She took each step carefully, making sure her knees didn't give out and send her tumbling back down the steps.

Her attention was in her walking, almost mindlessly, down the hall. She entirely forgot the group behind her, ignoring the fact that they were even there. She was simply too far gone. Her expression indicated that she was only vaguely there, her mind had instead wandered to the time she had last been here. The blood had been freshly laid on the ways and floors then, and the whole house stank of blood. Finally, she came to a door with a golden faceplate on it, with her name engraved in Russian on it. She swung the door open and entered, stepping into the day her childhood had ended abruptly.

The room was painted in pink, her favorite colour at the time. All of the beautiful trinkets she had once owned had been smashed on the floor. She would have cried if she hadn't already lost her emotion entirely. The only thing she felt in this house was violence. She was no longer aware that she even had friends following her. What were friends?

The next person to touch her or even try to talk to her was about to get more than they bargained for, and Melora wasn't even aware of herself. She would have no idea what would happen.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura followed her, almost in a dutiful way, all throughout the house. He noted the way she had become listless in her movements, her weight shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. She kicked up dust in her wake, causing a tiny uncharacteristic sneeze to echo through the hall as he brought his arm to his face.
Unfortunately the sneeze had blasted dust off of the door frame, causing only more annoying particles to fly into his face.
He sneezed again, trying to wave the cloud away, silently thankful that he didn't have allergies.
Clearing his throat, he stepped into the room after Melora, noting the disgusting shade of girly pink...which wouldn't look too bad as a shirt if he could only find it in silk.
"Your room?" he asked, tilting his head to glance around at all the furnishings, taking a sort of perverse delight in viewing all the things she had when she was a child. It was like looking through a window into the past.

[MeloraBelikov]

Melora turned to face him, expression unchanging. He was a vampire. In her room. Had he caused this? He would die, she decided. Right the fuck now.

It was odd, Melora mused to herself, that she could see everything and feel everything, but she couldn't react to it. Unwillingly her expression changed to rage. She felt herself step towards Azura, and all at once her hands grabbed his wrists and she flung him towards the vanity, sending it all crashing to the floor to join the other broken objects. What had she just done?

Then, all at once, Melora, the real, thoughtful and reasonable Melora, shut down. She was no longer aware that he was a friend, and in fact she didn't even remember who he was. He was a vampire, and he would die. From her holster she pulled her gun and aimed it at Azura, taking care to aim directly for his head, a vital point. She paused, finger hovering above the trigger, no idea what she was waiting for. She wanted him dead, but failed to fire her weapon. Instead she stood there, gun aimed at him, unblinking.