[color=red:f8509ac71a][b:f8509ac71a][size=24:f8509ac71a]NORTHERN COMFORT[/size:f8509ac71a]
[size=18:f8509ac71a]Playing at the Tenebrae![/size:f8509ac71a][/b:f8509ac71a][/color:f8509ac71a]


[b:f8509ac71a][size=12:f8509ac71a]European Melodic Death Metal Heroes Grace The American Shores For The First Time In Ten Years![/size:f8509ac71a][/b:f8509ac71a]

[i:f8509ac71a]Playing at the Tenebrae:

Friday 22nd November: Midnight
Saturday 23rd November: Midnight[/i:f8509ac71a]

With support from "DOWNFALL" and "WARHEART"

[i:f8509ac71a]Brought to you by "Bleeding Heart" Productions[/i:f8509ac71a]

Tickets $10 on the door.
Capacity 500.

Doug pressed the accelerator down firmly, revving the engine up as much as possible; trying to drown out the god-awful noise coming from the back of the bus. The "music" they were playing from the stereo system was the new album, [i:1fa18ae9df]"Reaper's Kiss"[/i:1fa18ae9df], which the band he was driving had released one month ago; and this was their post-release tour. Sometimes he wished he had taken the job riding Greyhounds from state to state; but no, he had gone where the money was. Besides, driving vampires exclusively allowed him the grace of one less worry. When he had tried driving humans, there had always been questions from his bosses as to why he wouldnt work days. At least now that wasnt a problem.

---

[i:1fa18ae9df]"Hey you fucking moron, that's a $200 bottle of whiskey she's drinking..."
"Yeah well maybe I want her to get drunk on expensive whiskey... 'Cause its been a long time since [b:1fa18ae9df]I[/b:1fa18ae9df] got drunk on the expensive stuff, if you get me fucknuts."[/i:1fa18ae9df]
Josef looked annoyed for a moment, then turned away from the drummer. It wasn't that Al' was slow, it was just that dumb Brujah brain of his. Always thinking of the here and now. Sometimes Josef worried, 'cause it hadn't always been so easy for them, and just sometimes, Al' seemed to regress back to the nights when "Northern Comfort" were by no means a legitimate outfit.

He looked over to Jesper, not expecting conversation; Jesper, the singer, was not renound for his talk; except when he got on stage, and seemed like a vampire possessed. At that thought a cold chill ran through Josef's body, as he remembered that once, that had'nt been too far off the truth. But before he could remember the days before Angela Quine had ....saved.... them, a splah of blood soaked his jeans.

[i:1fa18ae9df]"What the Fuck man! Keep that whore's fucking blood to yourself! This ain't no fucking orgy you dickwad...."[/i:1fa18ae9df]

Al' just popped a single extended finger up in Josef's direction and continued to consume the dying prostitutes alcohol filled blood.

---

Doug kept his eyes on the road, and his ears as closed as possible. Sooner or later, the band would get bored, or tired, and he could have some peace. He sighed as his headlights illuminated a road sign, telling him next destination, "Cascadia", was two-hundred and fifty miles yet. It was 4am, and they'd have to hole up soon.

He checked his wing mirror, and caught something in the reflection of the window; he turned his head quickly and almost jumped. Sitting in the passenger seat was the band's singer. Doug didn't really know the band too well, and held no opinion over them personally, he just hated their music. The drummer, Alan, was very loud and boistrous; the lead guitarist, Josef, was ok; a bit arrogant, but nice enough; the bassist, Thorn (And Doug wondered what sort of name [i:1fa18ae9df]THAT[/i:1fa18ae9df] was), was an absolute headcase. Whch was why he rode chained up, and even played their gigs fastened firmly to a 50 stone weight. Their singer, Jesper, on the overhand, wasn't too bad. He was quiet, he didn't smile much, but he was always polite, and always made sure all the bands entourage got somewhere to rest and something to feed on. Considering the road manager had been killed by the bassist, someone had to do the job.

[i:1fa18ae9df]"Could you pull over please, Doug. We have a grave to dig."[/i:1fa18ae9df]

Jesper said this without looking at the driver, he just kept his gaze out on the lonesome highway, not looking for anything in particular, just looking.

[i:1fa18ae9df]"Sure man. You reckon you could get the music turned down? It's not that I don't like it... But I can't concentrate properly."

"No problem, friend. I'll get it shut off after this song."[/i:1fa18ae9df]

In the background; well truly, in the abrubt foreground; "Northern Comfort" played their own theme song of the same name, with full drunken backing vocals by the drummer. Hearing said backing vocals, Jesper stood...

[i:1fa18ae9df]"Actually, I think I will shut it off now.[/i:1fa18ae9df]

With that he turned the stereo off; and Doug pulled over onto the shoulder, slowing down quickly.

The band carried the two corpses out of the coach, and religiously began to dig a large hole which would serve as a grave for the dead whores. Doug sat in the coach cab, watching them, wondering how much longer he cared to do this job, when a noise made him turn around. He furrowed his brow, as standing right before him, was someone identical to himself. As soon as the immediacy of danger dawned, a knife sliced through the drivers throat, followed by a cut from a larger blade, removing his head totally from the body, and simaltaneously cauterizing the wound, so no blood spilled. Doug's mirror image opened the driver door, and pushed the corpse out, in full knowledge that by the time it was light enough for anyone to see the body, it would be nothing but a pile of ash.

[i:1fa18ae9df]"Drive on my good man!"[/i:1fa18ae9df], came a cry from the drunken drummer, and the new driver pulled the coach back off into the road. Jesper pulled the shutters on the coach, and lay down on one of the bunks. Josef shut himself off from Al's drunken rantings by listening to the radio on his earphones. Sensing no-one gave a fuck, Al decided he should go take the piss out of Thorn, and see if he still had the moves to escape the insane fury of the other half of their rhythm section.
---

The sun began to rise, and the driver pulled into a lay-by, setting the coachs security system on full alert, and walked slowly to his cabin on the coach. He mused silently over the peculiar contract he had received regarding this band; but his sense of honour held him back from fulfilling his work-request too effieciently. After all, it could wait till the weekend. In the meantime, he could relax.

((Very cool Jesper. Hmmmm Dragonforce...didn't Eury express his fondness for them just a few days ago? ;)

((I have absolutely *no* idea about that which you speak, you Scottish twat.

((Sheesh compliment a guy and BOOM like a True Sassenach, he attacks :? :P :roll:

((don't worry Jesper, he probably just snuck a peek at your ICP...after all, he's been promoted to a moderator and has gone POWER MAD!! POWEERRRRR MAAAADD!!! and he actually is a Scottish Twat/

((Shut it ya yank wank :P

The sun was almost set; perhaps twenty more minutes until the sky would be presented with a relentless barrage of dying light, turning it a mystical pink colour, this would last no more than a few moments, and then twilight would take precedence.

Most of the dead went through their unlives mindlessly abiding by the unwritten law [i:24b0cdb158]"Thou shalt not see the Sun evermore"[/i:24b0cdb158]; and this was, all told, a fair regulation. Of course, some did not heed it. Often, those who did not heed it fared rather badly. There were a few, a minority, however, who had learned that, for a short period of time, with the correct amount of focus, the dying embers of the day could be seen, not often; just those occasions when the cloud cover was [i:24b0cdb158]just[/i:24b0cdb158] right, and the moment was perfect.

One such Vampire stepped out of a coach, and jumped quickly into a nearby shadow, cast by an ugly looking building. This vampire moved without much care to the edge of the shadows protection, and watched as the strawberry bastion of the Sun slowly lost its cyclic battle with the night. For all it mattered this Vampire was alone in this moment. He valued times like this; the memoirs of a dying race as regarded by a dead one.

The Sun finally dissapeared for another day, and the world was once again safe for the night-walkers. Few of which would stir quite so promptly; this particular Vampire, lead singer in a certain Heavy Metal outfit, was quite prompt in his awakening. His maker had taught him very little; he had had to learn what he knew by himself, as he preferred; but one gem he had been taught was to rise before any other where possible. "[i:24b0cdb158]Always[/i:24b0cdb158] take any advantage you can. Rest well, but rise early and retire late. Spill not a drop. Survive as best you can. That is the key."[/i], and for the better part of the century, Jesper Laiho had survived; and not due to luck.

A new location. A new set of kindred. A new enemy. And perhaps new friends.

[i:24b0cdb158]"Perhaps."[/i:24b0cdb158], he thought solemnly, as he stood letting darkness take full hold of the new night.

Tommorow he will perform; but tonight, he is free. There is little to do in any such place, but that little was more than enough. Feed, meet, learn. More than enough for one night. Yet, whilst the Sun was at bay, best to make use of the time.

His mind preoccupied with whatever thoughts he deemed interesting; mostly what his future might or might not hold, he strolled along the evening streets. Kine, and probably a few Kindred, alike jostled past him on their way to places unknown and unimportant. His instinct had taken control, and it would reveal its desire soon enough.

His hands secreted deep in his blue denim jeans, faded leather jacket covering his plain white shirt; he walked and walked. His eyes unconsciously surveying every individual in scope through shades, his ears listening for any sound of relevance, his nose on alert for that vital odour, and on he walked.

A mile, two miles, three, four... five. And finally, something of interest. A woman walking by herself, not paying attention, going against the not-quite-random brownian motion of pedestrians.

Prey.

In a moment, each of his acute senses were focused on that single woman. He could tell she had recently eaten curried meat; she was wearing a strong, and rather unpleasant, perfume; she was tired; and now, greater than these, she was turning into a badly lit side street just beside the bridge. He crossed the road, walking past the large statue adorning the garden-square, his eyes fixed on her as she temporarily walked out of view. He quickened his pace, as the blood in his veins began to pulse ever so slightly faster. His stroll became a light jog, and then he was not ten yards behind her.

A quick check around.... no-one. With a burst of speed he caught her in time, and wrapped his arm around her neck, cutting her wind off; rendering her unable to scream. He dragged her confused, but resisting body behind a public toilet booth, spinning her round to face him. He removed his shades, whilst pushing her firmly to the ground with his other hand, his eyes flared red for a moment. His strangle was no longer needed - fear was the asphyxiate now. Her open mouth hung as her eyes looked with despair, fear, horror and absolute non-comprehension. Vaguely he could smell the dirty stench of mixed urine and shit, but it didnt matter; he lunged for her neck, biting deeply and cleanly. Her struggle lasted no more than five seconds.

He carried the unconscious body quietly to an alley, wiping a single drop of blood from the neck puncture wounds which had already become mere scabs. He whispered something almost silently, as he made his exit from the scene. Presently a mongrel Alsation-Boxer trotted up to the unconscious woman and bit her arm hungrily. The shock woke her up, she screamed - he heard distantly as he turned another corner - and fled; having vague memories of being attacked.... by a dog?

The hunger satisfied, Jesper walked on into the night. He knew soon enough he would be recognised as a stranger in this place, and then he would make his introduction; on behalf of himself and the group of Kindred he travelled with. He presumed his record-company had sent a letter to the Prince of this city; but sometimes that didnt matter, some Vampires just did not [i:24b0cdb158]dig[/i:24b0cdb158] rock and roll.

((OOC: Valek, and anyone else it may concern, can we assume you DID receive a letter about the arrival of a vampire band to play as the Elysium. Whether you agree to it or not is for IC problems/resolutions; the band would have turned up whatever decision, so its up to you. Also, their quite a "big" vamp metal band, so chances are some of the more funky vamps would at least KNOW of them. Not quite Cradle of Filth fame... more In Flames or something :)

"Erin where have you been girl?"

Erin looked behind her and grinned as she recognised Dean.

"oh you know...here and there, nowhere and everywhere"

"ive missed you, all the crowd have" Dean's eyes travelled over her body, her small frame was misleading, he had felt the power of her more than once when there friendly arguements turned into full blown ones, fuelled by drink and drugs.

Erin smiled at him, her bright blue eyes glinting as she watched him giving her the once over. Erin loved black clothes, it helped her fit into the goth crowd and even more so, it often matched her moods.The black short velvet dress she wore barely covered her thighs and to some the addition of black woollen tights and high leather biker boots, wpuld seem absurb, but she seemed to be able to carry the look well.

"is it me youve missed? or the places I take you?" she said slyly as she leaned into him and whispered .

Dean didnt answer her only hugged her hard and kissed her on her forehead.

"talking of places to go....you will never guess who's in town, nothern comfort, there playing a gig, weve got guys cruising around trying to find their tourbus, we have to go see them, there like awesome"

(not much sorry....:: has a serious hangover::

"those the guys who brought out Reapers kiss?" erin asked as she scanned the crowd, her eyes eagerly searching it for something tasty.

"yup thats the dudes.....you have that look in your eyes erin.....you looking for a fix...Ive got some good stuff if you wanna join me" he looked at her inquisitively, if he took crack without Erin been there he just didn't seem to get that same high, it was as if she added to its potence.

Erin grinned at him, she knew that she could always fall back on her emergency supply, once he was doped up he never knew that she fed off his thigh, taking a small amount of blood, her lips licking the wound ensuring that he would never be curious.