Post by Serendipity on Oct 12, 2015 17:28:42 GMT -8
So the last few days I've been working on an intro, I wasn't quite sure which direction it was going to go in until now. I have a small plot in place that hopefully will grow into something bigger. At the moment, until it gets plotted out a little more there isn't a lot I can continue with writing my intro.
The genre is fantasy/vampire but there is an element of other mythical/fantasy creatures (i.e shape-shifters etc) and hunters.
Some plot points:
Vampires are in hiding, some hide amongst the humans if they're smart enough to go undetected/blend into society. The ones who find it difficult to live amongst the living, live like rats beneath the city streets, they are who the more privileged vampire's or other supernatural creatures call to to do their dirty work. Humans, as always, have been told that there is no such thing as the supernatural and any supernatural death is quickly covered up by the right authority. Also (taking some TVD elements) the more privileged or lucky vampires have daylight rings made by warlocks, but these rings only have a power source of about a century before they have to be refueled which means seeking out another willing warlock to do the job if there isn't one already on hand. My character is one of those 'privileged' living in New York city, she is a very unfriendly vampire, possibly has a lot of enemies but she also has a lot of allies, she knows how to 'do business'. She would never get her own hands dirty unless absolutely necessary, using others in her employment to do her bidding.
That's a vague guide so far ( i had more but my brains just died on me, I'm sure it will come back when plotting or I'll add it later).
I was thinking the pairing could be vampire/hunter, vampire/warlock, or underworld style and possibly vampire/werewolf. Also open to vampire/vampire!
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“Don't you think one bottle is enough, Olivia?”
She would have chosen to ignore the snide remark if she were in a better mood. But she wasn’t, and the comment stung to some degree although she didn’t care for the male in the slightest or what he thought of her -- or at least she shouldn’t have. Her lips came together tightly, a sign of her displeasure and a warning for this particular male to tread carefully; he should have known better then to question her in that manner. “Do you have a problem with how much I drink, Connor?” She asked with an arch of a well shaped brow, turning her head ever so slightly, watching the male from the corner of her eye. He was still dressing, slipping on his pants now and zipping them quickly, he plucked his shirt next from the floor regarding her with vexation. Connor, annoyed with her? It wasn’t unheard of, although he usually hid it better and had never displayed such emotion in her presence before. She turned her body away from the mirror she’d been peering into to narrow her eyes at the male still taking presence in her room when he didn't answer. After a beat he shook his head, molding his expression of distaste to a simple smile of apology and averted his gaze away from her piercing look.
"Good." Satisfied, she turned back to her reflection in the dressing room mirror and finished pouring herself another glass of champagne. She had opened the bottle earlier when they had arrived to her room and it had been keeping chilled in the bucket on the dressing table awaiting her attention once she had finished her quick romp beneath the sheets with Connor. You would think she would have been in a better mood afterwards, but it was rare her euphoria lasted more than a few minutes at any given time let alone after sex. She doubted it would change, she didn’t want to succumb to petty emotions like love and lust, happiness and empathy. It was those types of emotions that got you killed, and she planned on living for a long time yet. She was a hard woman - some would even call her scary, but she didn’t mind being called such things, it didn’t sting like it had once. Olivia liked to think of herself as fierce, fierce and beautiful and a force not to be messed with.
“You can go now.” She waved the male away before bringing the flute of champagne to her lips and tipping some of the contents down her throat; the bubbly liquid met her palate, leaving its sweet-sour tang behind. The beverage did nothing however to stifle the constant yearning for something more salty-sweet, something filled with the same life in it as the veins it ran through. Blood. It was what someone like herself survived on, craved, and wanted more than anything. It was also their curse, their undoing. Some fought the need for it while others embraced it. Olivia was the inbetween type, she knew better than to starve herself on animal blood, belittle herself by drinking from rodents but she limited herself to it - at least she tried to. It was like a drug, a drug calling to her every second of the day, taunting her with its electric call to drink, to satisfy the craving she fought down with the consumption of alcohol. To give in would be truly freeing, but to give in would also be costly and attention would be drawn her way and she had gone to great lengths to keep that type of attention at bay.
To the outside world she was an heiress who had obtained her father’s entire estate after he had died since she had been an only child and that was true for the most part, but what they didn’t know was that her real father had died seventy odd years ago in 1945 and she had taken over his estate then until it had become too difficult to explain the non-aging affects that came with her recent vampirism, which Olivia had still been figuring that out for herself. The man who everyone thought was her father was in fact only a paid employee who had lived the life of luxury pretending to be a rich entrepreneur who had moved to town twenty years prior, and had never taken on a wife but had had a child out of wedlock who was studying ‘abroad’ until that fateful day he had died and his daughter had returned to keep the estate intact. Over the years the original house she had been born into and grew up in had been demolished as the city around it developed and evolved, now in the current year of 2015 there was a 621FT skyscraper. The building, of course, was owned by her and had been built to her specifications - specifically, the penthouse apartment she lived in. She had amazing views of the beautiful oasis that was Madison Square Park as well as vantage points of the river-to-river-to-sea views and it boasted a magnificent sunset and sunrise.
The soft click of the door indicated Connor had left without further need for dismissal and Olivia poured herself another flute of champagne, downing it just as quickly as the first as she combed her brown locks back into place and then another before she re-applied the red lipstick she wore so well. The bottle was finished by the time she rose to slip into the nightgown -black silk falling to her ankles- laid out on the end of her bed before shrugging into a matching see-through robe. “You’ll have to forgive me, Josephine, my mood has soured.” Olivia spoke to a seemingly empty room, though it wasn’t empty, and she was speaking to the russian blue cat who appeared through the small cat flap built into the door of her room; she had heard the soft patter of the animal's footsteps coming up the stairs towards her room.
“I thought Connor was your favorite?” A second female voice added as though it had come from thin air, the Russian blue cat who had arrived through her cat flap now stood on two feet as a petite 5’6’ blonde twenty-something. Olivia had lost track of the girls age over the years, though she was far older than her twenty-something looks. It was something they had in common, both older than their appearance led others to believe they were. The blonde walked, naked, to Olivia’s walk-in-wardrobe, reached to the back where a few pieces of clothing were kept that were her size and took a blue slip on dress from a hanger. “Maybe it’s time for a new favorite,” Olivia answered as the other female dressed before returning to seat herself on the edge of the bed. “And what will become of Connor?” Josephine asked, and she was about the only being who could question Olivia about anything she did because they had known each other for the last half a century.
“He’s becoming too comfortable here, have a warlock erase his memories - or kill him if it’s easier.” The brunette answered with an unconcerned shrug of her shoulders turning to the pane of windows on the other side of her room that made up the entire wall overlooking the city skyline. The sun was just finishing its journey out of view to make way for the moon and it bathed the New York in an orange-red glow before it would darken to the blue-black of the night sky. Her room was bathed in this same glow, turning everything it touched orange, and as she walked closer to the windows her skin glowed with the same tinge. She loved this time of day, twilight, when the sun was receding from the sky and everything was beginning to be covered in darkness; it was almost as if the darkness was covering up the sins of the day just gone and when it peeled back in the morning the sins of the previous day were forgotten. This was how Olivia saw it, and she almost believed that it could be true, that her sins could be washed away with the cover of darkness, although it wasn’t so and her transgressions were still there the next morning.
“Killing him would rouse suspicion, you can’t kill off another one of your boyfriends just because you’ve grown tired of them.” Josephine pointed out as she came to sit at the dressing table Olivia had just vacated. “Not unless you want to leave again and wait another half century to return.” The blonde continued quickly as the brunette turned to glare at her unhappily. Olivia didn’t like to be told what she could and couldn’t do, and it was a good thing that Josephine was the exception. Although she didn’t like it, her friend had a point and Olivia wanted to continue living in New York for as long as she could. She had several deals going at the moment, a few politicians who owed her money and her influence was at its strongest. She was not only feared but respected, and it had taken a lot of effort, and a lot of manipulation to get to where she was now. To throw it all away on a whim was just plain stupid.
“Fine,” She said, dismissing the idea. “Find a Warlock to erase his memories of what I am. I need to recharge this damn ring soon anyway so having a Warlock around will be beneficial.” Olivia decided, her left hand moving to her right, her fingers running over the ring that sat on her middle finger, the ruby seemed to shimmer at her touch and she could feel the magic inside it.
“Where is my warlock?” The acidity in the question halted the footsteps of the approaching male and he dared not meet her eye, bowing his head as though to escape her angry glare. Olivia sat behind a large steel and patinated copper desk, nothing else sat on it other than the MacBook Air in front of her and a few scattered documents, the desk itself was enough of a statement. Two simple leather armchairs sat in front of it, neither were occupied, it was rare anyone sat in them always preferring to stand in her presence and Olivia often wondered if it was because it was easier to run if they had to. No one had run out of this office yet, they all knew she would find them anyway so it was pointless to run. She didn’t always kill them though, not everything was worth killing for and she had found other ways to extract her revenge so to speak.
“There aren’t any in New York, at least none that we can find, rumors are they’ve all moved on some place else.” The man explained, his words hesitant because he knew she would be displeased. Her brow arched slowly with his explaination, eyes pinned on his large form, biting down impulse to lash out at him for failing her. He was one of her most loyal employees which was why she had given him the task to find the warlock she needed. She was contemplating what he would gain from lying to her, and concluded that he wouldn’t gain anything from lying to her because he knew the consequences of doing so. “They’ve moved on? Away from New York?” That she didn’t believe. When the male nodded, confirming what he had said to be correct, the vampire took in a deep breath counting silently to five in her head, allowing herself time to calm down.Slowly she stood from behind the desk and shut the lid of her computer before walking around the other side. “And why would they do that?”
The male swallowed once again hesitant to answer her question and once again she knew she wasn’t going to be happy with his answer. “Apparently someone is either paying or scaring them off in order not to help you - at least that’s what the rumors are. I have Goodwin trying to find more on who this someone is, hopefully we will know by tomorrow.” He answered, and of course she was not happy. She was furious that someone was trying to stop her from trying to recharge her daylight ring, most probably because they want her gone from the hierarchy of the business world.
“Find me a warlock,” She snapped, seething inwardly, her temper trying to get the better of her.
The genre is fantasy/vampire but there is an element of other mythical/fantasy creatures (i.e shape-shifters etc) and hunters.
Some plot points:
Vampires are in hiding, some hide amongst the humans if they're smart enough to go undetected/blend into society. The ones who find it difficult to live amongst the living, live like rats beneath the city streets, they are who the more privileged vampire's or other supernatural creatures call to to do their dirty work. Humans, as always, have been told that there is no such thing as the supernatural and any supernatural death is quickly covered up by the right authority. Also (taking some TVD elements) the more privileged or lucky vampires have daylight rings made by warlocks, but these rings only have a power source of about a century before they have to be refueled which means seeking out another willing warlock to do the job if there isn't one already on hand. My character is one of those 'privileged' living in New York city, she is a very unfriendly vampire, possibly has a lot of enemies but she also has a lot of allies, she knows how to 'do business'. She would never get her own hands dirty unless absolutely necessary, using others in her employment to do her bidding.
That's a vague guide so far ( i had more but my brains just died on me, I'm sure it will come back when plotting or I'll add it later).
I was thinking the pairing could be vampire/hunter, vampire/warlock, or underworld style and possibly vampire/werewolf. Also open to vampire/vampire!
-------------
“Don't you think one bottle is enough, Olivia?”
She would have chosen to ignore the snide remark if she were in a better mood. But she wasn’t, and the comment stung to some degree although she didn’t care for the male in the slightest or what he thought of her -- or at least she shouldn’t have. Her lips came together tightly, a sign of her displeasure and a warning for this particular male to tread carefully; he should have known better then to question her in that manner. “Do you have a problem with how much I drink, Connor?” She asked with an arch of a well shaped brow, turning her head ever so slightly, watching the male from the corner of her eye. He was still dressing, slipping on his pants now and zipping them quickly, he plucked his shirt next from the floor regarding her with vexation. Connor, annoyed with her? It wasn’t unheard of, although he usually hid it better and had never displayed such emotion in her presence before. She turned her body away from the mirror she’d been peering into to narrow her eyes at the male still taking presence in her room when he didn't answer. After a beat he shook his head, molding his expression of distaste to a simple smile of apology and averted his gaze away from her piercing look.
"Good." Satisfied, she turned back to her reflection in the dressing room mirror and finished pouring herself another glass of champagne. She had opened the bottle earlier when they had arrived to her room and it had been keeping chilled in the bucket on the dressing table awaiting her attention once she had finished her quick romp beneath the sheets with Connor. You would think she would have been in a better mood afterwards, but it was rare her euphoria lasted more than a few minutes at any given time let alone after sex. She doubted it would change, she didn’t want to succumb to petty emotions like love and lust, happiness and empathy. It was those types of emotions that got you killed, and she planned on living for a long time yet. She was a hard woman - some would even call her scary, but she didn’t mind being called such things, it didn’t sting like it had once. Olivia liked to think of herself as fierce, fierce and beautiful and a force not to be messed with.
“You can go now.” She waved the male away before bringing the flute of champagne to her lips and tipping some of the contents down her throat; the bubbly liquid met her palate, leaving its sweet-sour tang behind. The beverage did nothing however to stifle the constant yearning for something more salty-sweet, something filled with the same life in it as the veins it ran through. Blood. It was what someone like herself survived on, craved, and wanted more than anything. It was also their curse, their undoing. Some fought the need for it while others embraced it. Olivia was the inbetween type, she knew better than to starve herself on animal blood, belittle herself by drinking from rodents but she limited herself to it - at least she tried to. It was like a drug, a drug calling to her every second of the day, taunting her with its electric call to drink, to satisfy the craving she fought down with the consumption of alcohol. To give in would be truly freeing, but to give in would also be costly and attention would be drawn her way and she had gone to great lengths to keep that type of attention at bay.
To the outside world she was an heiress who had obtained her father’s entire estate after he had died since she had been an only child and that was true for the most part, but what they didn’t know was that her real father had died seventy odd years ago in 1945 and she had taken over his estate then until it had become too difficult to explain the non-aging affects that came with her recent vampirism, which Olivia had still been figuring that out for herself. The man who everyone thought was her father was in fact only a paid employee who had lived the life of luxury pretending to be a rich entrepreneur who had moved to town twenty years prior, and had never taken on a wife but had had a child out of wedlock who was studying ‘abroad’ until that fateful day he had died and his daughter had returned to keep the estate intact. Over the years the original house she had been born into and grew up in had been demolished as the city around it developed and evolved, now in the current year of 2015 there was a 621FT skyscraper. The building, of course, was owned by her and had been built to her specifications - specifically, the penthouse apartment she lived in. She had amazing views of the beautiful oasis that was Madison Square Park as well as vantage points of the river-to-river-to-sea views and it boasted a magnificent sunset and sunrise.
The soft click of the door indicated Connor had left without further need for dismissal and Olivia poured herself another flute of champagne, downing it just as quickly as the first as she combed her brown locks back into place and then another before she re-applied the red lipstick she wore so well. The bottle was finished by the time she rose to slip into the nightgown -black silk falling to her ankles- laid out on the end of her bed before shrugging into a matching see-through robe. “You’ll have to forgive me, Josephine, my mood has soured.” Olivia spoke to a seemingly empty room, though it wasn’t empty, and she was speaking to the russian blue cat who appeared through the small cat flap built into the door of her room; she had heard the soft patter of the animal's footsteps coming up the stairs towards her room.
“I thought Connor was your favorite?” A second female voice added as though it had come from thin air, the Russian blue cat who had arrived through her cat flap now stood on two feet as a petite 5’6’ blonde twenty-something. Olivia had lost track of the girls age over the years, though she was far older than her twenty-something looks. It was something they had in common, both older than their appearance led others to believe they were. The blonde walked, naked, to Olivia’s walk-in-wardrobe, reached to the back where a few pieces of clothing were kept that were her size and took a blue slip on dress from a hanger. “Maybe it’s time for a new favorite,” Olivia answered as the other female dressed before returning to seat herself on the edge of the bed. “And what will become of Connor?” Josephine asked, and she was about the only being who could question Olivia about anything she did because they had known each other for the last half a century.
“He’s becoming too comfortable here, have a warlock erase his memories - or kill him if it’s easier.” The brunette answered with an unconcerned shrug of her shoulders turning to the pane of windows on the other side of her room that made up the entire wall overlooking the city skyline. The sun was just finishing its journey out of view to make way for the moon and it bathed the New York in an orange-red glow before it would darken to the blue-black of the night sky. Her room was bathed in this same glow, turning everything it touched orange, and as she walked closer to the windows her skin glowed with the same tinge. She loved this time of day, twilight, when the sun was receding from the sky and everything was beginning to be covered in darkness; it was almost as if the darkness was covering up the sins of the day just gone and when it peeled back in the morning the sins of the previous day were forgotten. This was how Olivia saw it, and she almost believed that it could be true, that her sins could be washed away with the cover of darkness, although it wasn’t so and her transgressions were still there the next morning.
“Killing him would rouse suspicion, you can’t kill off another one of your boyfriends just because you’ve grown tired of them.” Josephine pointed out as she came to sit at the dressing table Olivia had just vacated. “Not unless you want to leave again and wait another half century to return.” The blonde continued quickly as the brunette turned to glare at her unhappily. Olivia didn’t like to be told what she could and couldn’t do, and it was a good thing that Josephine was the exception. Although she didn’t like it, her friend had a point and Olivia wanted to continue living in New York for as long as she could. She had several deals going at the moment, a few politicians who owed her money and her influence was at its strongest. She was not only feared but respected, and it had taken a lot of effort, and a lot of manipulation to get to where she was now. To throw it all away on a whim was just plain stupid.
“Fine,” She said, dismissing the idea. “Find a Warlock to erase his memories of what I am. I need to recharge this damn ring soon anyway so having a Warlock around will be beneficial.” Olivia decided, her left hand moving to her right, her fingers running over the ring that sat on her middle finger, the ruby seemed to shimmer at her touch and she could feel the magic inside it.
[[x.x.x.x.]]
“Where is my warlock?” The acidity in the question halted the footsteps of the approaching male and he dared not meet her eye, bowing his head as though to escape her angry glare. Olivia sat behind a large steel and patinated copper desk, nothing else sat on it other than the MacBook Air in front of her and a few scattered documents, the desk itself was enough of a statement. Two simple leather armchairs sat in front of it, neither were occupied, it was rare anyone sat in them always preferring to stand in her presence and Olivia often wondered if it was because it was easier to run if they had to. No one had run out of this office yet, they all knew she would find them anyway so it was pointless to run. She didn’t always kill them though, not everything was worth killing for and she had found other ways to extract her revenge so to speak.
“There aren’t any in New York, at least none that we can find, rumors are they’ve all moved on some place else.” The man explained, his words hesitant because he knew she would be displeased. Her brow arched slowly with his explaination, eyes pinned on his large form, biting down impulse to lash out at him for failing her. He was one of her most loyal employees which was why she had given him the task to find the warlock she needed. She was contemplating what he would gain from lying to her, and concluded that he wouldn’t gain anything from lying to her because he knew the consequences of doing so. “They’ve moved on? Away from New York?” That she didn’t believe. When the male nodded, confirming what he had said to be correct, the vampire took in a deep breath counting silently to five in her head, allowing herself time to calm down.Slowly she stood from behind the desk and shut the lid of her computer before walking around the other side. “And why would they do that?”
The male swallowed once again hesitant to answer her question and once again she knew she wasn’t going to be happy with his answer. “Apparently someone is either paying or scaring them off in order not to help you - at least that’s what the rumors are. I have Goodwin trying to find more on who this someone is, hopefully we will know by tomorrow.” He answered, and of course she was not happy. She was furious that someone was trying to stop her from trying to recharge her daylight ring, most probably because they want her gone from the hierarchy of the business world.
“Find me a warlock,” She snapped, seething inwardly, her temper trying to get the better of her.