( I Want to Feel You /nside /\/\e )

Sabryn Kari Dorete
"Final Sin"

�� Angelique ��

Body.
             Mind.
Blood.
            Soul.

/\ll |-|is.

Kiss and kill me sweetly . Come and drive me home
Drag the miles in me . I am yours alone.
Inside where it's warm . Wrap myself in you.
Outside where I'm torn . Fight myself in two.
In two - I n t o y o u.
Desire me so deeply . Drain and kick me hard.
Whisper secrets for me . Try to go too f a r...

              Abilities :
                - Minor Healing
                - |3lood Turning [her blood, due to her special ability, manifests as extremely sweet.. but Turning can make it either suddenly, incredibly scented and
                                                       sweet - thus more intoxicating - or contrarily, suddenly, inexplicably poisoned. The taste does not change, but it is lethal to any
                                                       vampire that drinks it. She uses the former as a method of enticing vampires into partaking, the latter in self defense, if the Vampire
                                                       she allows to drink from her attempts either to drain her, bloodbond her, or Sire her.]
               - Resonance [ metalic sensitivity; even in pitch black, she can pick up upon the individual waves
                                                       of anything metal, be it a blade or the minerals of the earth. It can guide her on a path at night, or allow her to sense a weapon in shadow.
                - Empathy [ mindspeech. She possesses it even when she has -not- drank the blood of a Vampire, as one of the few innate abilities of the Angelique]

...forever bound to crave his Touch..

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...You can always take me, but I'll never let you break me...

So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you [ can't ] have this heart to break..

[ Billy Joel - And So It Goes]

Sabryn was leary, her gaze a smattering of icy quicksilver scraping like sandpaper over her surroundings, soaking in as much as she could in the brief seconds her gaze harrowed and worried at the walls and scenery. Having been brought straight to the room, thralled and drifting within the unsteady realm of dubious consciousness, she had been unawares of the locale in which she had remained for a placid duo of nights now, adjusting as much to once more being forged into a vampires pet as to the vampire himself. Setite. Snakelike, cold, arrogant, perhaps the most startling trait being his easy evasion of touch. Beyond the teases to create the Turn, there was no lust to draw tight the atmosphere and clench unseen portions. She was confused, if only for the memory of Shai that burned like a regal brand that would always hold to her. Brand. Which reminded her. Digits made slender by the faeblood, not anemicism, drifted almost coyly to the length of her inner thigh, grazing over the skin. By now it was naught but a chill pearlescent scar, but Shai had never held true qualms about allowing his property to be known. The oddly serpentine � shape which therein lay was matched by the leeking vines and bleeding roses about her upper left arm. Delicate as a flower, fierce as a fallen angel. Ange. He'd called her Angel. And in the cruel, masochismic manner that gripped her insides as she moved down the length of that unfamiliar hall, she missed him. Missed the force, the thrill, the pain and exhilaration. An addict to her drug, she craved him as oxygen. She wondered, perhaps mildly startled ( if not concerned ) whether such a thing would develop once again, this time with Vance. But he did not go about things as Shai had. His mind games geared toward humiliation and revelation,

not begging and torture. The hall suddenly vanished in a litany of cruxing shadows and stone as she stepped through the ink-laden portal, out into the crisply dewed air of the gloaming hours. The western horizon was still trussed up in a slightly paler shadow of its future prismatic navy, although after the night prior�s blood exchange, she needed no superfluous light to guide her path this eve. Purpose gilded her steps in their own statuesque grace, verging upon ephemeral as they guided her where only dreams had taken her for so long. After the first few, transitory glances to be sure her new keeper still followed closely, gleaming hues of colorless slates and ground dusts of the stars moved forth toward her chosen path once more. The old Inn was the closest of the many abodes and apartments she kept around the city and, despite the wraiths of memory and recollection which would be stirred by her hollow footsteps there, it was the locale of her largest cache of possessions. Not to mention those that were most treasured. It had been her permanent place of refuge for long enough that she had managed to personalize her room above the bar, which was amazingly separate from Shai's own. Perhaps she had been spoiled there; although the Lasombra had hardly been too liberal for a Doll's tastes. There were times aplenty drfting within lustrously gleaming reserves of shuddering memoir in which he had proved his dominion, and the balance of scales he held all too well. The twist and turn of streets grew increasingly familiar, and she would pause without conscious realization now and again to eye a certain alley or store, as though seeing

someething that was not there. Had they not already been so close, she might have wondered if it weren't better to walk the extra distance to another apartment. But the last turn was made eve nas such thoughts blossomed, and hues fell upon the small Inn without initial expression. The sign which hung in the window ( which, were one to eye closely, would have been covered behind the flickering neon by a dark black drape ), dictating the nomenclature of the establishment as the Inn of Redemption, looked shabby and underused. It was something of a relief; she wasn't of a mind to run into /-/im. Moving for the door, she eyed it critically for a moment. Gilded iron was wrought in beautifical workmanship into the wood itself, which was solid as any stone or steel was apt to be. Lignum vitae? she mused, running a hand over the surface and brining it away laden with the barest trace of dust. Glancing back, the wood revealed beneath was still bright, polished, and well kempt. How delightful. Her hand fell to the stylized doorknob and, bracing herself, she gave a slight tug. Locked. Of course. She rocked back on her heels for a moment, nonplused, gaze finally sifting through the tenebrous embrace of velvet shadows for the figure of the one that had followed her. Twin fingers tapped at the doorknob, brows rising faintly. "Could you?" She didn't think Shai would appreciate the doorknob being torn off, but he hadn't left a key last she'd seen him, and she was of no mind to ask about and see if anyone knew of him. Everything would return when the door was cleft. She wondered, laughingly within, if she was even remotely prepared.

Specie Breakdown. [ OoC ]
     Angelique are self-created, so if I discover either of their two blood-specified abilities [ blood turn and resonance ] to have been thieved, I will be extremely irate. If the specie is stollen, even under a different namesake, I will still be irate. An irate muness in this particular situation more oft' than not gets people pissy little stalkers. I'm more than welcome to give you one of her kind if you ask me, but have the decency to do as much. I might even respect you for it.
     Angelique are the fancy name given to mortals with fey blood in their background. As that can be claimed for a good 25% of the planet in most cases of roleplay, it occurs only rarely, and usually seeks out those who will be born strong and already with an inclination toward power. Be it an obsession with it, or a carrying of it on their own. Either the full dominant, or a submissive. The abilities gained by such an ability vary. Not all Angellique can Turn their blood, or sense metalics. Those are trait-specific to Sabryn. All Angellique however have an empathic/telepathic gateway in their thoughts that has nothing to do, in Sabryn's case, with an association toward vampires. The same with minor healing, which all Angelique may perform upon themselves.
     Currently, there are three living Angelique. And if you'd like an sl with them, come a'calling.

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That had been two years ago, and time - and experience - had changed the avid ever-adaptive creature. Unbound to any vampire and disillusioned by her rough abandonment by Vance, the angelique had taken to the streets for a time, drifting in a trans-national journey to heavens only knew where. It was a week after the neat theft of a vampire's oldstyle 69 Shelby that she came across a young woman hitch-hiking a southwestern road much as Sabryn had so recently been doing. Keith, however, turned out to be far more Sabryn's equal than initially expected: not only another blood doll, but an angelique. Together, the pair churned up the affectionate infamy known as the Blood Twins - a pair of deviant blood dolls with a notoriety and infamy equal to any vampire's. Sinful sweet and ever so yielding.. but they left a trail of dead Keepers in their wakes. None dared willingly take either of the pair on as their Doll and yet, deep down, certainly all Sabryn and Keith wanted was one who could match them stroke for stroke, and draw them out of their shells - and from a past bathed in blood, pain and ... ultimately... loneliness.