Daisy smiles to herself knowing that now Mark had a fighting chance to right any wrongs. She looked up and accepted Gabrials help in getting to her feet. She dusted herself off and politley thanked him for his help.
She looked at him seriously. He isnt bad ya know. He isnt the villian he is a victom. How come your kind always think the worst of our kind? If something goes wrong blame it on the Malks! If a Malk gets in trouble its their own fault for not keeping a better eye on things. That isnt fair, we're no diffrent than all the others. We may be a bit slower and not as exciting but basicaly deep down we are all the same. Open your eyes and look at whats happening! He is trying to save Cascadia not destroy it! You would think you be helping him and not hunting him! Please just give him a chance, please?
Gabrial put his hand thoughfully on his chin and looked at Daisy.

The silk of the black shirt brought little of the usual comfort to his body as he slipped it over his torso leaving the top unbuttoned; fear rushing him as he frantically searched the dilapidated haven. Moving over to the wardrobe he flung the doors open and retrieved a leather jacket that he discarded to the bed..

As he searched through the various compartments of the unit he knocked out articles of clothing sending them sprawling across the floor, after finding the box he was searching for he threw it atop of his jacket on the bed, the lid falling of and landing on the floor.

Yanking draws out of units that fell to the floor with loud thuds he rummaged through them retrieving items and adding them to the pile upon his bed. Moving the assembled items he strapped the belt around his waist the firmly held two blades fastened horizontally. The two shoulder holsters that each carried Glock machine pistols slid on effortlessly. A stake nestled tightly to his forearm. Sliding his jacket on his weapons became concealed.

As he went to exit the building he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Reaching into the drawer below it he scanned what little jewellery and trinkets he had. Taking the small cross in his hand he raised it to his eyes. Lost deep in thought and memories he set it down on the dressing table as a lonesome blood tear rolled down his cheek.

Stepping over the bust down door to his haven he stopped as a great heaviness filled him. Glancing back into the room he realised that nothing could ever be the same as it was before. It was all over. Sighing heavily he began descending the stiars.

::stands there in limbo waiting on Gabrials responce::

Santiago emerged from the throbbing nightclub, frantically wiping the bloodsweat from his brow. The streets were beginning to fill with socializing Kine now, and the line to the popular dance spot was now extending far beyond the corner. In the bright flourescent glow of the club's sign however, the blood that coated Santiago's face looked like mere sweat.

As he stuffed the blood soaked hankerchief into the back pocket of his slacks, he could feel his heart pounding once again. He hadn't been this nervous since he was living. If he failed to bring this Malkavian to justice, he could flee the city, and then Gabriel would surely have his hide.

Or worse....

Another thousand years of servitude was not his idea of eternal life. His eyes identified a flicker of movement among the crowd, the type of grace and elegance that takes centuries to master. For a brief insant, he saw the Malkavian duck into a back alleyway.

Immediately his hand was in his coat, gripping the cool hard steel of his pistol. Angry faces filled his view as he shoved his way through the crowd.

"Watch it..." "A*shole!" "What the f*ck?" they murmured as he closed in towards the alleyway. He could hear his prey's footsteps now, frenzied and frantic. It drove his bloodlust.

Santiago erupted into the alleyway, bracing one hand against the wall to avoid impact with it. Far ahead, a darting figure disappeared around the corner. As the Spanish Ventrue ran, he began drawing up scenarios in his mind, preparing his muscles for the necessary reactions.

However, when he turned the corner he found no impending violence, only the solitary creeeeek of a closing door. He stood next to the cracked and worn steps of the old apartment building and awaited the Malkavian's reappearance.

((it sux, but i'm having a tough time :/

The old musty and archaic room was lined with thick weathered wooden floorboards that creaked with a chilling groan under the pressure of movement. The cold stone walls were decorated with tapestries that hung loosely next to flaming torches. Candles stood proud around the room providing a dark light. Antique swords and suits of armour were also spread around the room. An oak banquet table with a black leather covering dominated the centre of the room with dining chairs spread around it. Behind the greater chair at the head of the table was a set of stairs in the corner of the room that led to the balcony above, with a door directly below. At the other end of the room was a large fireplace that burned with fury.

A lone figure stood in the room beside the table facing the fire. A dark cloak was wrapped around his body fastened with a single gold chain and a hood hid his deathly pale skin casting a shadow on it. A mysterious and dark aura surrounded him that filled the room with a chilling evil presence.

The floors spoke revealing Mark’s approach as he entered the room from behind the dark figure. Turning around to face Mark he spoke with an ancient accent that had spoken a long forgotten language.

“I knew you’d come.”

A determination occupied Mark, a dark fire burning passionately in his eyes, his body and mind prepared. Running towards the figure his hands reached into opposites sides of his jacket and withdrew the two machine pistols with a swift elegance. Depressing the triggers a steady stream of bullets began to unleash from the gun in controlled bursts. The violent noise echoed through the room as the projectiles cut through the air with a silent whistle.

Running to the side he jumped into the air towards the wall where he rebounded from the wall with a firm kick sending him higher into the air. His bullets continued to rain down havoc on the room as Mark spun in the air and landed on the table in a crouching position.

The wall behind the mysterious man was pebble dashed with bullets and tapestries were torn as he had avoided most of the incoming missiles however quite a few of them had punctured through the soft material of his cloak and penetrated deep into his body causing him some discomfort. Mark raised his eyes to gaze into the shadows covering the face of his enemy. A scowl crossed his face as he released the spent clips simultaneously that sent them tumbling to the floor. With a sharp tug on the table it was jarred forward causing Mark to lose his balance. Losing his grip on the pistols he stumbled back to his feet beside the table..

The man charged forward towards Mark his arm outstretched and reaching for him. A feral growl left his throat as mark jumped over him and landed behind him. As he spun round quickly to face Mark he was met by a firm kick to the stomach. Stumbling backwards slightly Mark followed through with a quick backhand to his face with his left hand and then a firm strike with his right fist. A well timed round house kick sent the vampire stumbling back against the wall.

Mark’s next strike was stopped mid air as the vampire gripped his right arm with a crushing tightness. With another guttural growl an iron fist struck mark in the stomach causing him to double over. Releasing his grip on Mark he brought his arm back and struck him hard sending mark hurtling into the air and landing hard on the oak table.

A whimpering groan left Mark’s throat as he rolled backwards off the table. Running forward he dived on top of the vampire sending them both falling to the floor. As they rolled across the floor the vampire pinned mark down by the throat. Marks right then left hand made contact with the vampire’s face stunning him and causing him to release his grip around Mark’s neck. Grabbing a hold of him by his shoulders mark spun him over. His hood was now knocked back giving Mark a terrifying glimpse into the dark soul of this foul beast.

Looking down upon the vampire with anger and hatred he struck the beast several times across its face. His hand was intercepted in the palm of the vampire who began to crush the fist. With a dark growl he pushed Mark from him. Rushing to his feet the vampire was shocked as Mark grabbed a hold of him again. Landing on top Mark clenched his hands together and brought them down. Grabbing a hold of Marks neck the vampire pushed Mark off him and thrust him against the harsh stone wall.

Mark dived once more into the vampire only to be sent flying over the table and across the other side of the room. Jumping high into the air the vampire landed with a high thud upon the table. The wooden chair shattered in Mark’s hand as he spun it into the vampire’s back. Sweeping the legs from underneath him the beast fell to the table startled.

A firm punch from the vampire sent Mark stumbling into the wall. Reaching up he retrieved a sword from the wall and brought it down onto the table where the vampires head had been moments before. Now separated by the table they glared at each other in an apparent standoff.

The table was pushed aside like a small rag doll towards the fireplace as the vampire approached Mark. The blade in Mark’s hand danced in the air as he lunged for the vampire. The sharp edge of the blade barely cut through the old skin of the vampire’s face drawing blood. A high kick to the head of the vampire knocked him to the side as he began to chuckle.

Mark ducked a swing from the vampire and retorted with a lunge of his sword. Stepping to the side he avoided the blade. Mark quickly carried through with a high swing then a low one which the vampire ducked then jumped over. As Mark made his next strike his wrist was grabbed and yanked forward at the same time a elbow landed firmly into his face. Dropping the blade Mark stumbled backwards.

Mark swung into the vampires face and then chest followed by a kick that sent him stumbling backwards. With a fierce scream and growl the vampire lunged wildly with fury at Mark. His first few punches hit Mark with a painful blow. Ducking the next few attacks Mark raised his leg which was quickly intercepted. With a sharp twist Mark spun in the air and landed on the floor with loud thud. Moaning in agony he stumbled back to his feet with his stake firmly gripped in his hand.

Plunging the stake towards the vampire’s heart his attack was once again blocked as the vampire gripped his hand firmly around Mark’s wrist. Dropping the stake Mark spun around breaking free and planting a firm punch to the vampires head. The vampire stumbled backwards and Mark reached for his stake. Before he reached it his arm was yanked backwards and forcefully twisted. The sound of splintering bone shattering echoed. Forcing the hand behind Mark’s back the vampire held him in an arm lock.

His words were broken up by the growl of a pure evil beast as the vampire spoke.
“Are you ready to meet your death?”

((wonderful post Marky Mooshoes, but i don't know quite what to do with it...should i burst in? should i wait? lemme know :)

(( hmmmmm well lemme give ya some help lol Daisy is still standing there talking to you!!!!! ))

((feel free to join in whenever you like becous if Mark dont get any help then this evil force he has awakened from the grave will keep getting more powerfull untihe decides to leave and walk the earth :P

The cracking of bones snapping and cracking was followed by the sound of a loud thud as the body of the large man fell to the floor. His head hung limply to the side of his body with a peaceful and unknowing expression. Her strides were swift and confident as she stepped over the body and continued up the stairs. Her eyes blankly surveyed the room.

Stepping carefully over the sprawled items across the floor she worked her way to the centre of the room. The disorganised state of the trashed room did not seem to bother her as she looked for something familiar in the recently searched room.

Now standing before the mirror she followed down its length to the draw torn open beneath it. As her slender fingers brazed across the various rings, bracelets and other trinkets and jewellery her finger tips grazed against the metallic cross.

A chilling shiver ran through her entire body, a pain searing through her head, her body convulsing desperately for release from the cross that was drawing her in. a bright light flashed before her eyes.

~~~
Lord make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
And where there is sadness, joy.

O divine master grant that I may,
not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

"Prayer of St. Francis"
Artist: Sarah McLachlan

my new inspirational writing song :P ooc ramblings and stuff blahhh. lemme alone :P

~~~

The knife plunged deep into the thigh of the vampire. A pained gasp left his mouth as Mark twisted the blade ripping apart the flesh. His grip on Mark was involuntarily loosened and taking advantage of this Mark thrust his head back into that of his enemy. Slithering out of his grip Mark dived across the room and reached for his gun. Sweeping it up in his right hand he rolled across the floor and turned to face the vampire in a crouching position. With a click the gun was cocked and loaded.

The constant volley of bullets spurted forth as Mark stood and approached the vampire with slow steady steps. His target slowly fell backwards with the immense force of the metal shells repeatedly penetrating his ancient flesh. Blood began to trickle from the vast number of pale wounds forming. Emptying the last bullet from the gun Mark reached behind into his jacket and retrieved the lone dagger.

Throwing it through the air it hit true and powerfully into the centre of the vampire’s head. The vampire eyes rolled up inside his head as a dumbfounded look crossed his face; the blade putting painfully numbing pressure against its brain. Picking up speed Mark continued moving towards the vampire as he unleashed more bullets from his final clip into the vampire. Dropping his gun he took the stake once more in hand, lunging towards the vampire’s heart.

A crushing pain fell round his wrist. With swift speed Mark’s arms were twisted round so that in his hands the stake was still held firm, only an inch below his own heart. His neck was jarred to the side by an iron fist that sent him sprawling across the room. His body became weightless as he was lifted by his clothes. Standing wearily supported by the vampire’s strength he was thrust hard into the wall the right hand side of his face cut open as it struck the rough stone surface.

The sound of cracking bone sounded over and over again as Mark was repeatedly struck into the wall. The fabric of his clothes wore thing and exposed patched of his body to the beating. His face was red from blood and a ghostly white where dented bone was exposed. His right eye had last the natural soft ice blue colour as it was violently scraping against the wall.

As the vampire released his grip Mark fell to the floor his body abused and unforgiving to the pain. A knee to Mark’s ribs snapped them and sent him flipping into the air landing hard. Grabbing Mark the vampire picked him up and spun him hard in the air sending him hurtling into another wall. It seemed an eternal wait as he awaited the next agonising blow to his body.

His eyes located the sword nearby and taking it into his hand he awaited the arrival of his enemy. As he swung feebly he found his fore arm in a vice like grip. The fingers of the vampire dug hard and deep into the flesh of the underside of his arm. The pressure sent agonising pain through Mark’s arm causing him to drop his blade. The fingers ripped through the flesh and hit the bone in a crushing vice like grip sending a new kind of pain through Mark’s body causing him to scream.

Trying to resist the inevitable he began to groan loudly against the strain until his forearm was snapped free from the elbow joint with a flash of searing pain and blood. Discarding the arm the vampire looked down upon Mark who now had a distant and defeated look within his eyes. With a firm blow Mark found himself beside the large fireplace his eyes looking deep into the burning flames.

Stumbling awkwardly to his knees a tear ran down his face as he gazed into the fire. Closing his eye he bent his head down in defeat as his ears caught the sound of the metallic blade grazing against the floor as it was raised into the air. The sound of steps came closer to him.