Look to the moon [Open]

[RICKARD MAGNUSSEN]

The snow storms had subsided, and Rickard was sat on a ridge overlooking the Shrieking Shack from a mile or so away. He enjoyed the cold, but when the snows were several feet deep it took several minutes to walk a hundred yards, it was getting too much to handle. Fiddling with a twig that he had found on the floor of the forest behind him, he watched as people wandered in and out of the village, worried about their pointless lives and doing pointless things in the pursuit of happiness. Rickard could not think about life, or any other inconsequential matters such as that when the wizards were allowing creatures, such as himself, more freedom and equality. This was a first for his time on earth, and often it was the completely opposite.

When Rickard was younger, he was hunted by governments all over Europe. He was hunted by the German ministry, the Danish and especially in his old home Norway. To a certain extent, he was still hunted in Britain, but that was less to do with his species, and more to do with the multiple murder and mutilation of innocents. Rickard chuckled to himself and snapped the twig in his hands, feeling the hunger once again, and seeing the villagers down in Hogsmeade in a slightly different manner.

[RELINA ROYAL]

It was a dreadful smell, sadly it was a smell that she was a bit too familiar with. It was the sad truth that came from working at St Mungo’s when she hold life in her hands occasionally it slipped through her fingers. Death was an all too common occurrence, well common enough to be daily. When one was surrounded with those on the brink of their last breath it was easy to recognize the linger scent of decay.

Though what lingered in the air wasn’t just death, there was something more something metallic the smell that reminded her of the old boiler room of her home, the smell of corroded copper pipes that were tarnished green. The metal scent was thick and heavy, so much so it almost covered the smell of a fresh corpse.

Common sense told her that she would be wise to turn on heel and go get Matthew as she knew without doubt that nothing good could be waiting on the other side of that door. However Matthew was still in the field, and hadn’t answered her last owl that had told him she where she was going, she figured that he must be involved after all he would have replied.

Reaching in her pocket she pulled the crumpled bit of parchment that held a note that had sent out in the bone chilling winter evening. The note from a member of Matthew’s team Margret Tanberry was one of the older members of the existing Auror department, this was something that Relina only knew because she and Matthew were supposed to attend Margret’s retirement party that up and coming weekend, she had bought a plant as a gift for the woman.

She looked at the crudely scribbled address, grimaced before glaring back at the number posted in silver number plate by the door. She would turned around, and waited for Matthew like common sense was screaming at her to do. Sadly there was no ignoring the guttural groaning that she heard coming from behind that thick wooden door.

Her wand pulled she with a flick threw open the door and stood wide eyed and horrified the scene that spread out before her was every bit fitting the smell that lingered blood was literally everywhere it painted the walls, splatters flicked up on low ceiling. However the object that had manifested the gore was nowhere to be seen? Well that was till she took a step into entry the moment she took that step inside a lifeless heap fell from above splattering the small puddle that had collected below it.

Another guttural groan that sounded inhuman filled the air, it was then that Relina noted that the scene that played out before her was eerily familiar as if she was witnessing something for a second time, though she could not for the life of her remember where..

Another Groan as the heap twisted and in its tortured profile she caught sight of something shimmering hold sticking out something odd that didn’t seem fitting.. She caught sight of it again as it shimmered gold rushing forward as if something inside her flicked into automatic mode her leaned down next to the groaning figure she looked and saw that the flicker of gold was the backend of an ornate old fashioned key. Her focus pulled only with she saw the trembling hand reaching for her extended hand that held her wand. She felt the rushing pulling need as her eyes flickered back to the key that protruded grotesquely from the oozing wound as the cold hand fell upon her hand she looked up as the figure coughed and wheezed and croaking and sputtering as the sputtering bark like coughs erupted dark malicious laughter.

Relina’s eyes widen as she realized at once she had been pulled into trap the scene she was in slowly began to transform the blood that pooled on the floor slowly shifted into copper colored rugs and the soaked red walls that hung heavy with blood shifted with the grace of fog into coppery curtains and a beige sofa that had a copper colored throw on it.

The bloody heap shifted and transformed into as well but she wasn’t interested in seeing what it shifted into as she knew a trap when she saw one, knowing she only has seconds to spare she knew her only chance was to cause the shape shifter a bit of pain in the course of its shifting. Relina knew that ripping that key from its stomach was her only chance. She gripped the rounded handle of the key and went to pull, but the moment she did as she felt the stomach twisting sickening feeling of an intense inner pull that came with an un-announced port key.

When the spinning subsided she felt intoxicated her head still spinning causing her to fall to her knees her hand still holding her wand, swearing to herself for being so deluded into thinking that her noble position would protect her from the wrath of those whom wanted war. She was marrying an Auror her life would forever more be in peril because of those who took the position of an Auror had adversaries.

HOW COULD YOU BE SO WRECKLESS? She could all but hear his words, but she was a healer. The way they thought were not on the same plane he was used to defense looking for trouble, she on the other hand was used to dealing with the urgency of a situation when the worst had already happened.. Hell judging from the tainted memories that had been forced upon her moments prior she had all but been born into such a mindset.

Pushing herself up to her knees the smoke and dust of the dilapidated building casted a fog murky feel to the scene that was disturbing enough as is. It didn’t take her a second glance to know where she was as this wasn’t the only time she had been in that ramshackle horror-fest known as the Shrieking shack. When she was in school it that retched shack was a continuous dare used to test a person’s bravery. Her’s had been tested in the legendary Night in Shrieking shack exactly 4 times in her young adult life, and one of those nights she stayed in the exact place where the legendary head master Severus Snape had fallen, which was the place she currently pushed herself up from the rust like stain remaining over centuries even there was no ghost which was rumor.

Pushing herself up, she didn’t have moment to think before a disarming spell threw her back knocking her wand about two feet away. Her aggressor no longer the bloody heap from the floor but slowly changing into a person a man who’s blond hair was like snow and who’s beauty could only make him a beast who’s tarnished blood surged threw her own veins. A veela, and judging from his ethereal beauty he was more of a creature than she was, and that was all she got to know about him. She saw him lift his wand she watched as a green flash erupted from the end of his wand, leaving her to throw that key she was holding in the path of that green light she watched as it exploded in bits. Relina figured she only had one chance to get out of there alive, and without a second thought launched herself forward and knocked him back, she scratched his face making him scream, struggling for his wand she ripped it from his hand aimed the wand back at the medallion on his necklace hissed the only spell that came to her mind.

“Confringo”

Of course the wand in her hand didn’t cooperate it blasted defiantly at him, and instead of it taking off his head it instead only removed his hand coating her and him and the west wall with slick warmth that was for the first time this night not a product of her subconscious. Though it happened quickly and violently it was not un-noticed by those who were in eye site of the passerby’s of Hogsmeade the spell work reflected in the slots where the wood didn’t fit and in the boarded up windows of the shack. Not to mention the noise for those with normal hearing they could hear the scuffle occurring and for a lone vampire precise hearing nothing went un-noticed.

NOTES: Please don't feel you must keep up the word count.. I edited this down from over three thousand words, and honestly could edit it more but I wanted to get something up tonight.. So yeah whatever you want to add is fine..

Side note I do know your vamp is not a knight in shining armor sort, I dont' expect him to be so if he wants to take advantage of the situation I'm fine with Relina taking a some major injuries I'm fine with anything but her death so if he wants to feed that's fine. I might bring Blythe into eventually so honestly we can have loads of fun with this topic raking up a death toll.

Questions: Pm me if something is vague or just O.o and Ill edit tomorrow if you need..as I'm tired..

[RICKARD MAGNUSSEN]

It was a normal feeling, sitting out there on his own. Ever since his attack, he has been mostly alone. He spent a decade or so travelling through southern Asia with a group of fellow vampires, all ostracised from society as well, and he they were the most enjoyable time for Rickard. He was never one for large groups, even when he was human, but being with others who had the same gift as he, and were sharing in his hatred for humans was somewhat refreshing. He departed from the group in the end though, searching for other things – other people. He didn’t find others though. Of course, he had come across other vampires along the way – some welcoming, others hostile – but he has never found a group such as that one in the thirty years since he abandoned them. Sometimes he missed them, other times he was glad to be alone.

Rickard closed his eyes and took a deep intake of breath, savouring the relative silence and peace. Then, however, his eyes flashed open and his head pointed towards the Shrieking Shack, suddenly hearing noises that were not simply the rudimentary creaking of the old residence. It sounded like there were people in there, perhaps only one or two, and there seemed to be some kind of scuffle going on. Rickard grinned and jumped to his feet, before he took off towards the building, which was some hundred or so metres away from where he was sat.

As he approached, Rickard slowed and jumped silently onto a roof, cursing to himself silently as a foot went through a rotten beam, causing a sharp crack to echo around the plain. He paused, silent as the grave, and listened, but he heard no sudden, frightened movements to the window to see what made the noise. He began to scale a drainpipe and climbed up onto the second floor outcrop, perched there as he approached the window where the smells were situated. He prised the window open and jumped into the room, and surveyed the scene before him.

There was a woman, who was more like a girl to his eyes. She was dusty, dirty and held a wand in one hand. She was quite young, but had the eyes of someone who had seen more than her years suggest. Aside from that, she had a weird, ethereal beauty to her, which Rickard could not explain. She bore an expression that told Rickard that she had just used it, and as he looked to the left, he saw a man, or rather, a thing with a missing hand. He bore a scratch on his cheek, no doubt a result of the attack from the other, and both parties were out of breath. Rickard grinned once more, his nostrils flaring from the scent of – albeit unclean – blood. “Well.” Rickard said, in his smug, satisfied tone which was the default setting for him. “What have we here? Either you two don’t like each other very much,” Rickard said, leaning against the glassless window frame. “Or you’re using this place for…well, the traditional student pursuit.” Rickard winked. “And it’s kinky at that." Nodding to the blood and scratches.