OoC: Good luck Selah, and HH!


BiC:

Ashes to ashes...

Black clouds were swept into whirlwinds, specks of dark dust visible within the swirling dance and motions. The dust settled on the streets of an old, blackened town. Charred remains and corpses strewn about, as well as old metal, medieval weapons; swords, axes, spears, hammers. All ancient, rusted or blackened from the ashes that had covered this place in it's stifling darkness. An old well stood firm in the center, it seemed to be the only thing not fully burnt or broken to pieces. The vampire made his way over to it, as, underfoot, the ashes seemed to give way, like a black snow that layered the land. Eyelids held shield over golden irises, against the attacking black ash that took to the air with each breath of wind.

His gloved hand reached for the rope of the well, the bucket down below, out of sight, clanging against the stone walls. The echo emerged from beneath the darkness, the creaking of the old pulley becoming no more than a sound in the backdrop. Seraph kept pulling on the seemingly limitless rope, and after a few minutes the rope ended, the final creak of the pulley announced the emergence of the wooden pail. Rain tipped it slightly, expecting water to flow into an open hand. But what flowed out was more ash than water. He squeezed the gray slush in the palm of his hand, letting go of the bucket, turning and looking around. There was no slight instance of smoke rising from any part of this area. The ashes cold, signifying that what happened to this town, and all it's people had happened some time in the recent past. But still, curiosity lingered.

What happened here...?

A cawing crow flew overhead, smashing the silence like a hammer to a mirror. It came crashing down, the eyes reflected movement out of it's corner. Up until now, there had been no obvious sign of life here besides the vampire and that crow, whose cawing faded well into the distance. But something or someone else's presence here seemed to be felt. Rain took a step towards the movement of charred bushes, an attempt to walk. The wind would not allow it, it crippled his movement by causing a swirling cloud of ash to block his path and blind his eyes temporarily. Staying put was the most plausible decision for this brief few seconds of time.

A crackle.

Someone had set their foot down, most likely on an old twig that had been burnt along with the rest of everything around here. And then, a ... voice? Rain couldn't discern, the wind had picked up. The slight silhouette of a person was glimpsed until an overwhelming blast of grating sand and ashes tried to burn and cut into his bare skin, forcing a slight parting of lips and showcasing of vampyric canines. The freak sand-and-ashes storm quelled, allowing the vampire to see the full physical of the once silhouette.

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["Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet"]