RPG - Supernatural: Vampire vs Werewolf (Page 2 of 27)

Name: Originally named Sharr'ka'karntula, though he(it?) has had many names throughout the centuries, including Cian'thar, Frescoe, Legion, and countless others. His current cult uses the name Gezeru.
Species: Demon
Gender: None, but when using a human form prefers male
Age: Ageless
Appearance: Can take a wide variety of forms. You'll get descriptions as they occur.
Weapons: He's a freakin' demon.
Personality: Obsessed with personal power, and cares for nothing else. However, since he is an ageless demon, he is extremely patient and methodical in everything he does. You'll get more as it develops.

I'll be back on later to make an actual post. How exciting.

Name: Griggs McMillan
Species: Human/Werewolf Hybrid
Gender: Male
Age: 97
Appearance: Mid 30's, 6'1", Medium Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes, Athletic Build, Wears Military Style Clothing and Body Armor.
Weapons: Black Desert Eagle .50AE, H&K G36, Super-Shorty Remington 870.
Personality: Short tempered, Can be a nice guy if he feels like it, otherwise shows little emotional envolvement due to years of service in the SAS.

Fort resheathed his sword on his back and intercepted te freelance slayer on his way to his car. Now that he was closer he could smell him better. He was a vamp hybrid. Interesting.

"Ho there wanderer, can I ask you a couple questions?" He asked the slayer

Griggs and 2 other SAS soldiers tread through the forest on a routine 'search and destroy' exercise with the Americans. Although this simple mission seemed like a walk in the park, Griggs felt uneasy as they got closer, like there was some evil force awaiting them.

"How far we have to go yet?" Griggs whispered.

"Half a klick." Corporal Tavish replied.

"Wait. You hear that? Gunfire...Sir, that's not part of their itinerary is it?" asked Sergeant Nolan.

"No it's not. What the bloody hell are they doing?" He wondered. "Soap to Eagle Seven."

"....................."

"Eagle Seven come in."

"...................."

Griggs, Nolan, and Tavish sprinted forward until the camp was in view.

"Status?"

"We have four tangos in sight sir...and you're not gonna believe this." Tavish replied as he looked through the scope of his AS50. "Orders?"

"I believe it. We go now. Tavish, proceed  to the west side and provide sniper support if we get in too deep. Nolan, follow me to the east then split. We'll box e'm in. MOVE!"

Griggs and Nolan moved up to find 2 SpecOps prone behind a large tree.

"Leutinant! What the bloody hell happened?!" Griggs Yelled.

"How the f#@% am I supposed know? I was takin' a leak." Jackson replied.

"Where's Simmons?"

"His Neck's broke and he's bleeding...bad."

"What in blazes is goin' on 'ere?! This is supposed to be a trainin' exercise!" Griggs came around from behind the tree to find Simmons on the ground bleeding out the neck. "Simmons!"

"I-its good to see you sir...I'm sorry." Simmons mumbled.

"No, no. It's not your fault...Oh ****, don't do this to me...Simmons!" Griggs watched the captain slump over and die in his arms. He tried to hold back the tears, but h could only do that for so long.

"Over here!" Nolan yelled to Griggs as he gave the bloody woman a blast from his Mossburg 500.

"Sir you're not gonna believe what attacked u-"

"Oh, I think I do." Griggs cut Jackson off and ran to find Nolan.

"I heard about some wierd murders, it was all over the news. I just thought it was some serial killer guy, or something. Now, if you dont mind, I need to get this looked at." He shrugged his wounded shoulder slightly. Pain flared from the movement, and he winced slightly, gritting his teeth. The other hunter looked suprised. John remembered his fangs. A slayer would see those, and realise what he was, most people just assumed he had big canines.

"There are some, I guess. If your looking for one, some guys go to a nightclub. The doors in the ally behind the pawn shop on the corner of Oak street and 10th ave. Big guy, dreadlocks. Has a private booth. Talk to him, he can point you in the right direction." John walked off. A moment later, he was in his car, listening to War Pigs, by Black Sabbath

Crispin was in his limousine, being driven through town from a private meeting with some friends. He had told his chaffeur to circle around the block slowly. Crispin was hoping to find his wayward daughter, who had ran away earlier. Perhaps if he circled around long enough he'd catch her scent. He drummed his fingers nervoulsy on his armrest, tapping out the guitar riff from Iron Man over and over again. Then he caught a whiff.

"Stop." He growled to the driver. "Let me out here."

Crispin exited the vehicle. It was a full moon, and his boiled, his body begging to change into its lycanthrope form. While his age allowed him to keep from transforming completely, his will was not strong enough to resist at least partail change. His skin was overcome with thick brown fur and his fingers and toes sharpened fierce claws. His eyes became an eery yellowish color. Crispin had always preferred this hybrid form over full-wolf. Allowed him to retain his human intellect while gaining his wolfen abilities.

Crispin let out a ferocious howl and bounded off into the night.

John had basicly driven in a large circle, he found himself back at the woods, and he got out of the car, and walked back in. It was still dark. He could get in some hunting. He walked into the woods, seeing easily because of his vision. He crouched, walking slowly and quietly, he was mostly looking for werewolfs, or vampires, but he still needed to feed. He had his pistol in one hand, and his knife held in a reverse grip in his left. His shoulder was almost healed. He stopped, and moved against a tree, a woman, human, walked on a path. He moved behind her,and grabbed her from behind. She started to scream, but he covered her mouth. "Sorry about this" he said, and he tightend his grip on her throat, until she passed out. A moment later, he was finished, warm blood on his face. He had taken the blood from her arm, taking it from the jugular vein would have kiled her. He set her against a carried her over to the side of the road, making sure she was visible, then went back to the woods. He found a small stream, and washed his face. He then stood, and began to hunt.

(John needs a small amount of blood, twice a month, or else he die, or go on a rampage searching for blood.)

Fort took the free lance slayer's tip to heart. He would travel to the nightclub later. Now however, he was following the presence of a werewolf that he had sensed as he was leaving to pick up his crate.

He eventually caught up with the wolf who now had clothes in its mouth. It led him to a haven of hers. Suddenly a series of howls erupted through out the forest and the wolf responded. Fort quickly looked around to see if he was followed and it was a trap, but there was nothing.

Keeping stealthy infront of werewolves was a skill that took all of Fort's patience and ability. He watched as the werewolf turned back into its human form, it was a woman. She gave her the dignity of getting dressed before he approached her from behind. He placed the tip of his two handed sword at her neck.

"Morning...whoa whoa, calm down little lady. No rush." He said, she slowly turned, an expression of anger in her face for being helkd hostage by this man.

"Why haven't you killed me? What do you want?" She asked

"Where's your main conclave?"

"HA! You are such a fool. I would nev-" Fort cut her off by slamming the side of her face with the flat of his blade. This sent her reeling, but she recovered. There was a burning mark of her cheek in the shape of the tip of his sword.

“You sure don’t know how to approach a lady first thing of a morning. We’re generally cranky,” Daphne told as she held back her anger. It seemed the half-wolf did want to play domineering games.

He cleared his throat, “Again, where’s the main conclave.” He shifted the sword again and Daphne shifted in response but it didn’t touch her.

“It’s some distance from here.” Daphne told, planning to be as vague as possible. “Have you come looking for a relative?” she asked.

“What?” He said trying to appear untouched by the comment but Daphne saw the slight twitch in his cheek.

“You’re scent is familiar.” Daphne told simply then took the opportunity to duck down, pivot and kick his feet out from under him. She snatched the sword from his hands and pointed it at his throat in return. “I don’t know what business you have here but our numbers are few enough with the minions of vampires running around. Why don’t you show a touch of loyalty to the wolf blood that runs in your veins and leave us alone. If you want to kill something, find a vampire.”

“What like you? He wasn’t even a full vampire.” The half-wolf spat.

“No, but I thought he was there to kill the humans. I prefer to hunt vampire under the full moon.” Daphne told as her face healed completely. She lifted the sword, hefted it with her might and threw it into the forest so it landed some distance away. “Now fetch,” she said as she turned her back on him. It was a risky move but one that suggested she was not afraid of him.

Screw it.

"My name is John Mitchel, and I kill werewolfs.....and vampires." She recoiled slightly at this, apparently confused. "Yeah, thats right. I'm not like you, I'm a hybrid, as you probably can tell. Don't freak out, I'm not going to kill you." He moved his hands away from his weapons.

"I could help you find a cure, if there is one."  He shurgged agian, not knowing what else to do "I dont know if there is one, but there has to be something to at least dull the hunger for a bit."