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A true saint.

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A true saint.  Empty A true saint.

Post by Coran Velancie on Sat 24 Sep 2016, 17:16

Saint's Stand or formally Saint's city was as ever a marvel to behold. It's glory matched by no other city. The deprivation singing into the night sky like a beacon of light attracting all with questionable morals to it's fun filled centre.
The stench of urine was every present upon the streets, the sound of moans ringing from every alley way the drug problem obviously as rife as it had ever been.
Sirens welcomed him pulling him back into the fold of madness he had been temporarily so fond of. He had missed the chaos even the filth, a whore or drug dealer around every corner.
Saint's was home, probably the only home in which he had ever known, maybe the only one he would know and neglecting the memory of his ultimate downfall he was glad to be home.

The name Velancie was no longer whispered upon these streets. It had been twenty years since he had set foot upon the land, nineteen or so since anyone of his bloodline had.
Outward appearances looked the same which was comforting but it did not distract him from the fact that things were vastly different.
The last two decades had not been favourable to immortal kind. He had not needed to ask to know that. He had come across very few with anything but human DNA, where as before Saint's would have been crawling with immortals.
Human's dressed in some form of Riot gear had driven past him more then once since his arrival and it was obvious. Unlike him, the rest of his 'kind' were in hiding.

Swiping his thumb across his exposed teeth he watched one such convoy of vehicles drive past. His position hidden down towards a side entrance to one of the many nightclubs the city had to offer him.
A pretty little brunette thing hung from his arm in a dazed like state, her blank eyes void of all expression as he held her from falling.
It certainly had been an educational night for Coran and an enjoyable one at that. Little Claire had been very entertaining keeping him company for most of the evenings activities, he had not even had to use his powers of persuasion upon her for most of it, she seemed all to willing to follow him around.  
But now he was done with her, the palm of his hand wiping blood from her throat before moving to lift her chin so she would look into his eyes. Mahogany eyes shifting to a more amber colouration as his thumb caressed her chin.
“Thank you for the dance Claire” he smiled watching as she automatically mirrored his expression. “We had a wonderful time tonight. Go find yourself a cab and go home now”

Watching the woman stumble away he sighed stretching his arms up above his head before shaking them out as they moved back down to his sides.
He stood silent, thinking. It was good to be back, he had nothing holding him back now, no responsibilities, the pain was gone and he hoped soon that would be a distant memory just like the others. All he had to do now was work out what he wanted to do with himself.
“The world is your oyster”
He began to walk now, back out onto the streets his gaze moving from one thing to the next a living and breathing 'Saint' back in his city.
Coran Velancie
Coran Velancie

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Post by Bladewolf on Sat 24 Sep 2016, 19:42

The doors of a seedier establishment nestled between a pair of far more handsomely clad buildings, each one a sight to see in and of itself with its ostentatious ornamentation, bulged momentarily before a knot of figured boiled out onto the street. Each one falling over another as blows were exchanged in a drunken brawl. A sudden exclamation from inside the door gave the group of belligerents pause. "Hey! Dont forget me!" The speaker of which soon came out of the door, a monster of a man standing seven feet dove into the collected men, re-instigating the scuffling. Fists flew, punches connected, and the group soon seemed to turn, for the most part, on the larger man. Though, that seemed to be their undoing as soon most were laying on the ground groaning. "What? Is that all you drunken louts have in you? Ive fought whelps half your age with more fight in them, bah." He said, turning to go back into the bar, his drink having been spilled was what had drawn him into the short lived scuffle.

"Helen! Another round my dear!" He called out.


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Post by Coran Velancie on Sun 25 Sep 2016, 09:42

He had paused to browse the window of an old out of place newsagents while he lifted a crumpled cigarette to his lips, striking a match he lit it before flicking the flaming object off into a gutter behind him.
He and Nikalos had often been on the very spot he stood, his younger brother wide eyed and excited to see any new collectable items that had come out in the weeks magazines. His brother's excitement at life had once upon a time been intoxicating to Coran, it was like a drug one which reminded him that if you looked upon life the right way it was a beautiful thing.
Now the place was run down, the sign flickering in and out of life, the locks upon the door looking like they had taken a battering more then once but Coran still found himself smiling at the memory, finding happiness in the fact the place still stood.

It was a 24 hour store which owned an alcohol licence so he decided to step in, a smile lifting towards a curled up little old man at the counter, who nodded back to him whilst stooped over his crossword a magnifying glass in his skeletal hand. “Amazing” he murmured to himself as he made his way to look upon the magazine rack. The clerk was the very same one from before. Frankly Coran was impressed the guy was still around, he had not been all that young the last time they had visited the store.

Picking up a magazine based on some form of army he flipped it over looking at the little plastic soldiers attached via a plastic bag. They would have been something Nikalos would have bought so for old times sake Coran took it to the counter and handed over the change he had within his pockets before wishing the clerk a goodnight.

Returning into the night he was set on walking until he came across a Motel when a group of drunken idiots fell out of a doorway directly in front of him, blocking his path and knocking the magazine he held from his hands.
“Watch yourselves” he snarled whilst bending down to pick up the magazine once more, he didn't give a shit about the number of them, nor did he care how big they were. They were in his way. “Move!”
It seemed to be over as quickly as it started the larger man in the group retreating giving Coran space to once again navigate the streets and move away from them. “Drunken idiots!”
Coran Velancie
Coran Velancie

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