Adella/Banshee [The Resurrected]

Character name: Formerly Adella; now known as Banshee

Character age: Early 20's

Character description: Half human, half vampire

Character stats: 5'7", brunette, wispy stature, delicate features

Special abilities: Currently in limbo. Immediate natural skill is the Banshee Wail

Short bio: Adella was abducted from her home by a small group of vampires sent to acquire minions

Familiars: Currently none

"What's this?" he asked, annoyance barely contained in his distinct accent. "You.. bit her?" It was a statement, posed as a dangerous question.

"She's to be mine, Sire," the other hissed, not meeting his eyes. Instead he looked down to the limp body he held by one arm, the body's other arm dragging the ground at his feet. Like a rag doll. He held her like a rag doll. She had been walking with him, slightly behind, head bowed; beaten, hopeless. Her name was Adella, not that it really mattered anymore. She was no longer looked upon as a sentient being, much like the lesser creatures of the planet were trivialized by humans, the human Adella was demeaned by the vampire. She didn't matter, she was a thing, a novelty. Until she fell.

The ways of this world are said to be a delicate balance that isn't truly balanced at all. The living dead walking among the living alive, fading in and out of obscurity, and only connecting at the demise of the weaker species; the human party. The rules were simplistic, the balance tilted in favor of the creator of the race, this family of vampires where only the strong could survive. Perfect obedience was expected of the clan by it's Elder, and nobody was to add to the clan but he himself. To turn a human into a creature of the night was a process far more complex than the rumors and fairytales would lead you to believe, and the weaker the creator, the weaker it's spawn. An impermeable clan cannot consist of ineffectual members, and such decision is left to the leader for reasons of the obvious. The process of turning is a sophisticated one, and a bite does not a vampire make, no sir. A bite is poison to the system, should the bitten not be drained. To turn a person, they must themselves feed upon the blood of a vampire in the poisoned state. The poison of the wound destroys the immune system, rendering it ineffective and the ingested blood of the vampire combine to a noxious neurotoxin that stunts the nerves of the body and results in cataplexia.

As she fell, Toran caught her halfheartedly, his attention immediately drawn to the Elder and the loaded tone in his voice. "She's to be mine, Sire", his voice trilled and he hated the cowardice in it. He pulled her up slightly, partly to avoid tripping on her hand, partly for a distraction to avoid the blazing look in the Elder's eyes a moment longer.

Gauge hadn't spoken since his initial question, and watched in seething silence as the girl's body began to convulse, dying, and Toran slapped her backhanded, releasing her arm entirely as she fell to the pavement with a nauseating thud. Normally this was the type of situation in which Gauge couldn't be bothered to intervene, but the grave disobedience of the subordinate was not to be ignored. Kneeling next to the girl, who's body had been released from throes of seizure, he grabbed her hair and tilted her head first to one side then the other without consideration, noting the number of bite marks marring her otherwise pristine flesh. Six. And those were just above the collar of her tattered clothing. If the poison didn't kill her, the blood loss would.

Gauge looked to Toran who again began to speak, the quality of his voice diminishing each time he used it, "S-s-sire," he sputtered, "she's to be.." Before being silenced by the separation of his head from the rest of his body. His body dropped to the concrete with a liquid sound and before his head could bounce, Gauge was back at the girl's side; the Devil's Blade in his hand dripping with vampiric blood.

If the body of a vampire's victim has the physical strength to recover, it is granted the ability to rise again, in a heightened state; the formerly damaged nerves now ablaze. A complete transition from human to vampire requires a second episode of feeding and being fed, that mirrors the first. In this case, should the girl survive, she must again be poisoned and likewise, ingest blood.

He should let her die, he was certain, save him the trouble of a half human half vampire woman and the Devil-only-knows what set of abilities she'd awaken with. But he didn't. Should he be asked later why, he would still be unable to answer why he chose his following actions. Not that anybody would ever have the nerve to question. Perhaps it was her youth, innocence, or searing beauty. She had all three. Or perhaps it was simply the streak of sudden defiance he felt toward his fallen clan member. "S-she-she's mine, Sire", echoing, and Gauge smiled, lacking of any warmth. He pulled the girl into a sitting position by her hair, propping her against his leg. He sliced the skin of his left palm with the sharpened talon from his right and pressed his bleeding hand to her lips, tilting her head for his blood to run down her throat.

A moment later she coughed violently, leaning forward to heave his blood from her lungs, flailing at him wildly as if to push him back even though he was no longer touching her. Her eyes glinted silver, matching her notably more pale skin. Death does that to people. "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded, wiping blood from her mouth, and staggering to her feet.

Gauge's expression was mildly amused as he motioned with a hand for his ever trailing minion to take her arm before she again found herself on the ground. As the minion's fingers touched her she jerked back as if shocked, before turning to shove him. "Don't.. touch.. me," she threatened, her voice taking on a low keening tone. The minion's eyes widened in surprise, but he reached for her again as ordered, only to be stopped by a piercing wail. She screamed. But it was no ordinary noise. Almost instantly in response to her eerie wailing, the minion's head dropped forward on his neck, skin mottling and eyes seeing nothing, as his body crumpled to the ground. She followed him down, anger dissipated; replaced by quiet sobbing.

Momentarily shocked at what had just transpired, Gauge regained his composure to say, simply, "Banshee, I shall call you.. Banshee."

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