Post by jestercarr13 on Mar 17, 2020 18:06:28 GMT
Name: Caprice Eleonora Aurelia
Alias: Capricorn
AKAs: Capri, The Red Lady
Physical Description
Hair: Warm brown, naturally long and straight, but often in a variety of styles
Eyes: Bright red
Ethnicity: Italian
Age: 28
Build: Slim, sleek, toned, 5'8''
Uniform: When mission active, Capricorn wears skin-tight black leather pants, heeled boots and a form-fitting blood red leather sleevless jacket.
Personal Style: In downtime Caprice tends to dress rather provocatively. Not purposefully slutty or revealing as such, but in a fashion that is comfortable to her but often perhaps inappropriately in others company. For example, baggy vests that might easily reveal a glimpse from the side, comfortable shorts that are quite short, oversized shirts barely buttoned up, or quite simply underwear or lingerie. It's not always intentional (though, sometimes, yes it is), but always provocative. When in casual clothing out and about, it can be very much the same. Revealing or form-hugging dresses that are just about over the line of appropriate, tight pants and barely there vests or tops or t-shirts, short skirts and sometimes just a bikini top depending on the weather, shirts purposely unbuttoned far too low but somehow always just in place to cover anything overly inappropriate. She always wears an interesting array of jewelry, be it bracelts, bangles, rings, chains, necklaces etc etc., all very tastefully accessorizing what she's wearing. In daylight, she always wears sunglasses.
Psychological Description
Personality: Caprice Aurelia was born and raised a devout Roman Catholic in a wealthy philanthropic family in Milan. Despite her vampirism, she still has both her faith and beliefs. She was a kind, considerate, gentle and caring soul who believed in the good in the world, however hidden it may sometimes seem. A calm, soothing person to be in the presence of. These aspects of her old personality are still within her, however deeply buried they are. Occasionally, they will show themselves if the circumstances are correct. Since her vampirism, the release of more base, locked away instincts, drives and emotions have come more to the fore. She now has darker, more primal urges that drive the majority of her personality. Most notably, there is the blood-thirst and soulless quality of the essential animalism of what she is now, making her cold and calculating, often brutal and harsh in her demeanour. Her sexual drive and instinct are emphasised, and often used as a tool or weapon. She has a deadly sharp wit and can be quite impatient. But there are moments, usually when sated and languishing calmly, that she can be soft and sultry, pleasantly apathetic, and sweetly flirtatious in the afterglow of feeding.
Relationships: Caprice's parents know she was a mutant, and did not want to hide her when her mutation manifested and marred her skin. But to protect them and their reputation, she insisted she go away under the guise of travelling and volunteering away from Milan. The Italian government still had its issues with mutant-kind that would have affected their philanthropic work. She made many friends on her travels, particularly in the Guardsmen when she joined them. Her parents, however, do not know what she is now. She has not cut communications entirely, but is very careful how she communicates with them so as not to reveal to much about the most recent developments in her life that would further threaten them, and quite possibly, devastate them. Caprice's childhood priest, Father Vincenzo, was always a close and beloved confidant for her, even after her mutation (the family obviously trusted him enough to let him on the inside), but as it turns out, it was he that created the circumstances in which her mutation manifested as it did, and ultimately led to her vampirism. Theirs is a very... complicated relationship. She shares similarly complicated relationships with the other zodiac vampires the Vincenzo has sired over the centuries; Lucia, Giovanni & Salvatorre, just to name a few. But she has also found allies in this new territory in her life, such as Pierre and Jean Molyneux, mortal vampire hunters, and Mercer Arcenaeux, a half-breed with his own vendetta against Vincenzo.
Caprice also shares an on-again-off-again tryst with Project 13, mostly based on proximity and opportunity rather than genuine emotion. They care for each other in their own ways, seeing parallels between their histories and finding a connection and understanding they share with each other.
Powers & Abilities: As a mutant, Caprice has enhanced agility & dexterity, clairvoyance (sensing the history of people, places and objects when she touches them), can create prionically generated illusions, can psionically drain energy from others on contact, weakening them, and can affect bad luck in the aura of an individual (it's unclear if this is somehow atmospheric around them affecting people and things around them, or directly affects them and causes them to inadvertently bring it upon themselves. it's often very subtle ow these things happen, even if they're big things like car accidents. Butterflies wings and hurricanes and what not).
As a vampire, Caprice's agility and dexterity are further enhanced, and she is gifted with inhuman speed. She also can levitate to a limited degree that is often employed to "climb" walls or perform apparently gymnastic or acrobatic feats. She can now more directly drain energy and sustenance from people by consuming their blood; she heals much faster than mortals, and feeding on blood further accelerates this process as well as temporarily enhances other abilities like a surge of new energy. She can psionically glamour the minds of small groups and individuals to ake them more open, amenable and compliant, and in conjunction with her original illusion ability, can glamour a larger crowd at a stretch and great strain. She also now has superhuman strength and durability, as you might expect. As a vampire, she can now also transform into a black wolf or cloud of bats, for both effect and function. Her natural animal senses are vastly enhanced to suit her position as an apex predator, and are particularly honed to prey or signs of prey.
Weaknesses: Caprice is not susceptible to a lot of typical vampiric weaknesses. She can be in direct sunlight, though she does find it too bright and unpleasant on her skin. It can hamstring the levels of some of her powers the longer she's in it. She needs to consume blood to sustain herself, and though she does have greater control over her impulses than a lot of vampires, there is still a blood-lust when it is needed. She can consume other foods for enjoyment, but they don't sustain her. At least once a week, she must consume living blood, and it cannot be from anything other than a human (or mutant or whatever, providing their blood doesn't have other qualities that make it too different to human blood). She is no more threatened by wooden stakes or silver than any other mortal, or any less: where she might heal faster from injuries from other materials, wounds made by a wooden stake or silver dagger affect her and heal as they would if she were merely mortal. The conflict between her new primal qualities and her faith, belief and previously innocent sensibilities are in constant internal conflict, which can on occasion manifest outwardly in a variety of ways.
Skills: Capricorn is well trained in multiple combat disciplines and with a variety of melee and ranged weapons as part of the Guardsmen, and especially now she has a natural affinity for hunting, stalking, harming etc.
Equipment: Capricorn's only regular pieces of equipment are two stiletto blades, silver with carved olive wood handles that are also sharpened to a fine stake point. She also has access to other various equipment and weaponry to suit her mission or activity.
Background: Caprice Eleonora Aurelia was born to wealthy philanthropic parents. Her father, a fashion designer who funneled a large part of his fortune back into his community, her mother, a concert pianist and patron of multiple charities. Her life was both remarkable and unremarkable in equal measure; she was obviously a subject of much media attention, being the beautiful and sweet daughter of such parents, involved in philanthropy and charity from a young age, and genuinely sincere about it. She never fell victim to the trappings of having wealthy, famous parents and in fact didn't value the fame in particular herself. She came to terms with it easily enough, and just accepted it for what it was, but between her charitable pursuits and incorruptable faith, the media was never able to sensationalise anything about her or her life.
She was always beautiful, and on occasion would model for her father's fashion lines so long as she was comfortable with the clothing or accessories, and also studied piano under her mother. Life was wonderful. She never had a boyfriend, but only because as lovely and kind as some of the boys she knew in her life were, she never felt she found the one, and she believed in waiting for that.
On the morning of her 21st birthday, Caprice woke calmly as the maid quietly roused her and set about opening the curtains. As soon as the morning sunlight flowed in and met Caprice's skin, she screamed in terrible pain, sobbing as she tried to scrabble away from it, but two whole walls of her bedroom were large windows... there was nowhere to escape to, the maid too shocked and frightened to think to close the curtains. She hadn't in fact realised the sunlight was the problem, and when she finally cold make her legs move, she tried to scoop Caprice into her arms and cradle her while trying to find out what was wrong. But she couldn't get close to Caprice, her skin was blistering, burning, smoke rising from its surface. Finally Caprice slumped to the ground still, unconscious, and after a few more minutes of burning and smoking, all the while the maid and other staff screaming and scrabbling to call an ambulance and rouse her parents from their slumber in the other wing of their home, it stopped.
Caprice woke back in her bed, the sun having already set again. She heard the beeps of a heart monitor and the rhythmic puffing of a rebreather, then suddenly choked against the tubing in her throat. A doctor emerged from her periphery and efficiently removed the apparatus to allow her to breath on her own. The look of pity on his face while he asked her how she was and told her not to fret scared her more than anything else. He wouldn't tell her what had happened when she asked, insisting it would be best if she spoke with her parents.
He went to collect them, and they entered her room with the family priest, Father Vincenzo, in toe. She cried as she saw the same look on her parents' faces, and instead concentrated on Father Vinncenzo's as he didn't look on her in pity. He looked upon her calmly, kindly, and she found peace in that gift he gave her.
They explained what had happened that morning, and Caprice began to remember it in snippets, panicking when she recalled that her skin had felt as though it were burning and blistering. Her mother weeped while her father continued with sorrow heavy in his throat. Eventually, Father Vincenzo placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder and took over. Caprice had always felt fondly or him, he was a kind man and a close friend and confidant to the family.
He explained that they believed she must have had some sort of immediate, allergic reaction to the sunlight that morning. He spoke of genetics, biology and other sciences as though he were recycling something he had been told, but knew enough to just make sense out of it. It was well known that he was the kind of priest that, even with his unshakable faith and belief, also saw the beauty and value in science as a gift from god, rather than somehow a contradiction of his omnipotence and omniscience.
It was when he used the word "mutant" that made Caprice's heart drop. At that time, in Italy, the government still did not have a positive attitude concerning the mutant race, or any other super-powered being. Caprice herself was part of the larger public movement to remedy this, but she had never considered how her life might be different if she were a mutant. She begged her parents for forgiveness, presuming their tears were in fear or shame of what she was, but they were quick to reassure her that they did not care that she was different, that was not even a concern that was registering with them. They had simply feared for her life. And also feared for her mind and soul when she were to see herself.
In confusion, her own tears stopped, and she asked what they meant. They couldn't bring themselves to answer that question, only continued to reassure her that to them, she was still perfect, and she must not be afraid. Meanwhile, Vincenzo had reached for a small mirror and held it to his chest until Caprice could settle her nerves and reach out for it.
He carefully handed it to her, touching her hand comfortingly as if to say "take your time", and let her slowly lift the mirror to see herself. She did not scream and what she saw, but fresh tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Down her marred, scarred cheeks. The blistering seemed to have healed already, but left behind rough, rugged scarring and patches of marred, dark discolouration all over her skin. One iris had bleached white, with only the slightest hint of a green border on the outside ring. The other eye had turned completely black.
It took some time and counselling from Father Vincenzo, the doctors, and her parents for her to accept what had happened to her. She took solace in her faith, and that these things must happen for a reason, something Father Vincenzo believed deeply and constantly reassurred in her. The public and the media had heard that she had taken ill, but several months later now, their curiosity began to breed the first instances of scandal to be connected to her name. What illness had she contracted? Was it truly an illness, or was she being treated for some sort of addiction, or perhaps she had become pregnant after some sort o sordid affair!?
Her parents wished to tell the truth, perhaps use this opportunity to inspire the country into a final push against the government's laziness concerning their outdated stance on super-human's. But Caprice refused. She could see now, what it must be like from the other side. With new eyes she could see that it wasn't simply laziness on the government's part. They might not openly hunt super-human's like witches, but they had no intention of improving their situation. In fact, she suspected if she and her parents were to go ppublic, they might even use their position in the media to make examples of them, twist the facts to turn the public against super-humans in some way. Father Vincenzo, unfortunately, had to agree with her assessment. As closely tied as church and state were, he could only confirm that super-humans were still somewhat demonised by most figures in the faith, and they would use this opportunity as Caprice feared.
Much effort, instead, was put into arranging a press conference organised just so that no one could get too close to see through the extensive make-up applied to Caprice's face in her first, and last, public appearance for some time. Under any closer scrutiny, the new topography of her face would be far too obvious. The media was satiated with the story that Caprice had fallen ill after being exposed to a disease by an unfortunate and unwitting individual at a local community homeless shelter. They were assured the gentleman, too, was also fit and well at their bequest and cost, but had refused to be publically known. It was only Caprice's spotless history that made it so easy to believe. But now Caprice had to disappear.
She told the crowd that while she was sick, she had recieved her calling. She would travel far away, to a nunnery, and begin a life in service to God. Father Vincenzo helped sell this lie. Of course, Caprice could not actually go to a nunnery looking the way she did. However faithful a nun might be, it was too dangerous that she would be exposed all the same. No, instead, she intended on leaving Italy, perhaps to Switzerland, and live in peace somewhere out in the coountryside away from the majority of civilization. In time, she would be able to show her face in small communities that wouldn't realise who she was and give a false name. Her parents would support her throughout, and she would continue to give back to the community in anyway she could, charitably, philanthropically, whatever it took.
She did just that. In time, she did begin wandering into town, and despite her physical appearance the Swiss were acepting of her, having a much better attitude toward mutants and super-humans. Certainly those that proved themselves to be thoroughly good people. Which, of course, not all of them are. The village one day welcomed a pair of travellers who sought room and board at the local inn for a few nights. They were brash, unfriendly, but caused no trouble at first. Going by Maria at this time, Caprice introduced herself to them when she noticed that at least one of them was also a mutant, his skin red, rugged and tough almost as though he were part shellfish. He showed no interest and simply ignored her as he continued to rudely shovel food and drink into his mouth. His fellow apologised, bu Caprice didn't like the way in which he did it, or the way in which he cast his gaze over her. She left them to their business.
It was a few days later that Caprice returned to town to visit the market when she heard the commotion and saw the stricken faces of the village people. Clearly, these strangers were more trouble than anyone had expected. She entered the inn to find it in disrepair, and the locals too afraid to do or say anything. The shellfish had a poor young man in a headlock while he drained a stein. His fellow laughed while carving inappropriate shapes into the stained oak of the bar. The shellfish caught Capprice's eye and tilted his chin at her while burping, as if challenging her to do something. The other glanced over his shoulder at her without turning or stopping his vandalising, his eyes quickly roaming her body again.
Only a couple of years ago, Caprice would have been to quiet, meek and kind to do anything about this. She would have tried to reason with them, pleading with their better sensibilities of course... but she knew that would not work in this situation. In the last couple of years she had learned a lot about herself. Learned that she was stronger than she ever thought, and this curse she carried could also be a gift. She'd learned what she could do, and though she still found herself questioning why she had been made this way, she only now in this moment had anything close to the hint of an answer.
She made surprisingly short work of them, even without any formal combat training, essentially by fooling them into dealing with each other through her illusions, then finishing them off with a touch to sap what energy they had left. She wasn't entirely proud that she had turned to violence, but she found a way to justify it considering the suffering the village had endured, and the fact she had actually been able to act in a way that caused no lasting damage. She felt God would be able to forgive her.
The word spread, news of what she had done travelling to more towns and villages, until news teams began flocking to interview her and the village people. She couldn't do much to hide, and feared that this would undo everything they'd done to protect her and her parents... but no matter how long it went on for, she heard nothing from home about anyone realising it was her. Her mother and father, in another of their regular phone calls, could only muse that simply no one had realised it was her. They said Father Vincenzo believed they simply had no reason to believe this mystery woman "Maria" was really Caprice; she had grown up so much and become a strong woman so different to how she had been before. How could they believe her to be the same person? Bizarrely, Caprice actually took some solace and joy in this estimation from her childhood priest. It was exciting to think that she had this strength within her all along, especially now that she had spoken to both her parents and priest who had both been so proud of her for doing what she did, and doing it so humanely.
She stayed in the village, even long after the novelty of her new reputation had died out and she was once again simply a well-liked member of their community. Just when she thought things had returned to normal, and she settled into the old routine with some bittersweet satisfaction, was when an armoured behemoth approached her property late at night, in the dark, to avoid notice of the village people further down the mountain.
Iron Cross asked her to join him in returning to Berlin and helping the Guardsmen with a task that would benefit from her particular gifts. When the task was completed, she asked (basically begged) to stay on and join with them.
She served with the Guardsmen for several years before nightmares began to plague her, and she began to exhibit some concerning behaviour. She thought perhaps she'd made a mistake after all, living this kind of life, and her actions were finally catching up with her and stacking up negatively against her faith. But she was wrong, so wrong...
There was something else. Something inside her, trying to come out. She caught glimpses of it in reflections, in shadows, in crowds... her dreams and nightmares became steadily more vivid, lucid even, until finally with the help of her friends and team-mates, she was able to understand them. They guided her somewhere, showed her images from her past. She insisted it was something she had to do by herself, for she had to return home.
She did not tell her parents what she was doing. She hadn't even told them what was happening, not wanting them to worry about her. Instead, she followed the most clear clue her dreams had given her, and returned to the church she had grown up worshipping at. In the dark of night, ensuring as little chance of her being spotted or recognised, she entered St Matteo's Roman Catholic Church, crossed herself with the holy water by the door, and slowly walked up the centre aisle whispering her prayers while admiring the statued architecture and stained glass windows. She stopped at the fourth row back on the left; where her family had always sat and her parents still did, wanting to be within the congregation, not sitting separate up front as if they were somehow better than everyone else. She jenuflected, took her seat, and continued to pray.
With a soft, calm breath, she spoke her last amen and opened her eyes, now ready to seek out exactly what it was she'd come here for. An ornate emblem, pressed in gold. It was so clear in her mind, like a photograph, but it was only a strong sensation or hunch that had her believing it must be here in this church. For some reason, she saw that emblem, and it conjured this place in her mind. It must be here somewhere, and she saw it once as a child. For some reason, it was important now.
While she searched the church, Father Vincenzo emerged from the rectory an noticed her. Quietly he approached, greeted her kindly with a hug, and asked why she was there. She explained everything to him, and showed him a rough sketch of what she sought. She had always been a good artist, he commented with a chortle, and confessed that he knew where this item must be.
He led her to the sacristy, a room behind the alter where religious objects and artefacts used in masses and rituals are stored, and surely enough there was the emblem hung over a high shelf staring down at them. She asked how she could have possibly seen it before, to which he shrugged and mused that perhaps it had been used as a decoration in the church at some time, as it wasn't technically a religious item. He apologised for not being able to offer her anymore explanation as to why it was somehow important, and so present in her dreams. He described it as a depiction of Belllovesus, a Gaulish king credited to have led the invasion of northern Italy and founded Mediolanum, the city that would become modern Milan. Perhaps it had been used as some sort of sign of respect to the city's historical origins during a community event?
Caprice could not see anything else in the room that sparked any thought or memory, and so had to accept perhaps she had led herself on a wild goose chase. Father Vincenzo apologised again, and asked if she had seen her parents yet. She said no, and intimated that she wasn't sure she should, it might upset them to see her troubled so. Father Vincenzo respected her judgement, and gave her some comforting words he hoped would help calm her soul if she were to reflect on them later.
Preparing to leave the city again and return to Berlin, Caprice changed her mind about seeing her parents, and made time to drop in on them. They were so pleased to see her, and they shared a meal and good conversation deep into the early morning. It was only when she was tired, and she let her defenses down, that her mother could see something troubled her. Her father was already asleep where he sat on the couch. They'd all had a healthy helping of fine red wine.
Caprice confessed everything to her mother, but spared some of the darker details so as not to upset her too much. Her mother creased with concern. Caprice showed her the sketch she had showed Father Vincenzo and explained what the priest had told her. She expected her mother to say something akin to "oh yes, that old thing" as the family had always been closely involved in all church and community activities and occasions, more often than not quietly funding them. But instead, her mother frowned in confusion and said she'd never seen it before in her life... but she did so slowly, as if not entirely sure.
It was only when Caprice reached to take the sketch back that her mother frowned deeper still and slowly began to recall that she thought that actually, she may have seen this before, but she wasn't sure why, how or where. To be sure, Caprice conjured an illusion of the actual object as she had seen it, and her mother's eyes widened. She had seen it before, but for the life of her she simply could not remember how or where, or when even. She was sure it had never been present at any community event she had attended or been involved in, and she had attended or been involved in all of them since long before Caprice's birth. Eventually, both tired from the long night and too much wine, they decided it must have been used in the church at some point as a decoration, and they simply remembered seeing it around.
Caprice slept in her old room for a few hours, to overcome the wine and be fresh for her journey back to Berlin. It was during that wine infused slumber that she met her properly for the first time. This other her. She couldn't understand her, but she stood naked in a lake of red wine up to her ankles, long raven black hair covering her breasts. She pointed for a long while at Caprice as she tried to speak, her eyes a bright red. Caprice begged her to try harder, telling her she could not understand. She wanted to move closer, but her body did not respond to her command. It wasn't until the other her slowly moved her pointing finger downward that Caprice followed the gesture to her own feet. Except she had no feet. She had no anything, she wasn't there... but beneath where her feet would be was the emblem, emblazoned on what she now saw as a pure golden plate as it shined clean and new. The other her spoke louder and louder, but it remained a muffled sound, as if heard through ears filled with thick fluid. The visage on the plate moved; where it had been in profile, it turned to face her, eyes widening like a beasts, and then so too did its mouth. Caprice's non-body fell through that mouth, splashing into the lake of red wine below, adn suddenly she had a body, writhing in the fluid to try and reach the surface again. It wasn't red wine... it was blood! She struggled and strained, naked and afraid, until she realised she could hear her own voice... the voice of the other her, though she couldn't see her... "Memento mori. Memento vivere. Mors tua, vita mea. Mutatis mutandis".
Caprice woke in a hot sweat, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. She needed to go back to church. She ran out into the morning light, uncaring if she was seen, and burrst through the church doors. It was still too early for any worshippers just yet, but Father Vincenzo was stood at the alter and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden wash of sunlight coming through the church doors before they closed themselves behind her. Caprice all but ran down the aisle, desperation in her eyes, and begged the priest to let her see the emblem again. With concern in his eyes, he nodded furiously and gestured to welcome her behind the altar and into the sacristy once more. All the while, she spoke of what her mother had said, and the dream she had had. He asked her to repeat the words her other self had said. It was Latin, not hard to decipher for either of them. "Remember to die. Remember to live. Your death, my life. After changing what needed to be changed".
Caprice had already grabbed the emblem plate and examined it more closely, frantically asking Father Vincenzo question after question, but he was so distracted by those words that he barely registered the questions. She chittered and chattered away to herself, manically trying to make sense of anything... but she never would be able to. It wasn't an answer to a question of hers. It was an answer to a question of his.
Father Vincenzo plunged the blade of a golden dagger deep into Caprice's back, so forcefully through her slight figure that its tip emerged from her chest having pierced clear through her heart. She immediately coughed up blood, eyyes wide and panicked. She wanted to turn, to look him in the face and understand why... but she couldn't. She was already dead. She was already dead on the floor at his feet.
When she woke, she was chained to a polished wooden table. She felt different, but she didn't yet realise how different she was. Father Vincenzo watched her from a corner of the stone walled room they were in... it looked similar to the architecture of the church, but she didn't recognise the room... were they in the basement? With a smile, he stepped forward, apologising for having to hurt her, but explaining that it was the only way to wake her up. She screamed profanities at her, and at first he looked upon her in shock, the picture of an offended man of God. She cut herself off, shocked at her own words... that was when he smiled a wicked smile.
He explained to her what had happened. How she was different. He had had to kill her, to allow her to live this new life. As he did so, he released her, his words lulling her into a sickening calm, and led her toward a large ornate mirror leaning against a wall. When she saw herself, she did not believe it at first... this was not her, not the her she had become accustomed to over the last 7 years, no. It was the other her. The one she had been glimpsing over the last few months, the one she had seen in her dream.
"You are vampire." Father Vincenzo whispered to her, and the very word sent shivers through her. Chills of both terror, and primal elation. He led her from the small room, to another where a long table surrounded by only candle light was surrounded by 6 chairs. One at each end, and two along each side. There were others there. On one side a pair of gentlemen stood close together, whispering to one another as they entered the room. On the other, a young woman, slightly younger than herself. All were as pale as she was now, but they did not share her blood red eyes. The gentlemen's eyes were black as night... the woman's were a shockingly pale blue, almost white.
He introduced them as her brothers, Giovanni & Salvatorre, and her sister, Lucia. They too were vampire. She questioned how this was possible, how they could exist, and as she looked up again at Father Vincenzo noted that his own eyes were a deep dark red, like burgundy wine... she'd never noticed that before, how had she never noticed that before? Father Vincenzo explained that the myths mortals knew were only half true. Their kind is myriad, all over the world, but their family... their family was unique. Their family had embraced the sciences centuries ago, and bred themselves into superiority. But that only got them so far. Father Vincenzo had adopted the new sciences as the decades ticked over, and his experiments had yielded so many successes. She was but the most recent. She was their salvation in the sun.
She questioned this comment, still dithering from the fatigue of death and the effect his glamour was having upon her, but casting her eyes about the room she noted that the high windows were obscured by long curtains nailed in place under heavy boards. Father Vincenzo helped her to a chair at one end of the table, and gestured for the other children to sit as he walked to his own chair at the far end. He did not address her half finished question, and instead gestured to the decantor and glass before her. She had already smelt it, it called to her like the purest nectar called a bee... she knew what it was, and she wanted it, but she didn't... she daren't. She bit her lip, and felt the sting of her own fangs prick them. Her own blood did not call to her the same way, but the feel of it beading on her lip warmed her core in the most vulgar fashion. She licked it away, and moaned at the feeling it illicited in her loins. Salvatorre and Giovanni watched her intently, grinning as though they knew and shared her every thought; Lucia stared at the space over the table, her face etched like impatient stone.
Father Vincenzo encouraged her further, and the gentlemen to her side leaned ever further over the table silently egging her on. She slowly reached for the decantor and the glass, and began to tilt them both toward each other... she took one more look over the rim of the glass at Father Vincenzo, and his blood red eyes screamed at her to taste it. With a hiss, she threw aside the glass, shattering it against the wall, and fell back in her chair, drinking deeply directly from the decantor. She felt it suffuse her entire being, filling her with life and strength, her chest heaving as lights exploded all throughout her. With one last languid gulp, she lowered the decantor, some blood still left, and placed it back upon the table. she felt renewed, but not entirely satiated. She stared at Vincenzo, and he sensed what she did not say. It was fresh blood, but no matter how recently it had been drawn, it was never the same as drinking from the source. It would sufficed at a pinch for any vampire, but nothing compared to the still pumping blood drunk directly from the source.
Her chest heaved with fast, heavy breathing. She asked about that; if she were a vampire was she not dead? Did she breath? He told her it was a habit of the physical form, something that would eventually abate the older she got.
She asked more about what she was. What they all were. Vincenzo told her that he had been experimenting, breeding weaknesses out of their kind, and turning to gene therapy the more he learned. She had been one of his greatest efforts; he had sensed when her mother became pregnant that there was something special about her genetics; her mutant gene. He experimented on her while she still resided in her mother's womb, here under the church. And continued to experiment on her as a young child. He had hidden these memoris from them with his ability to glamour, stronger than most after centuries of practice and the experiments he had conducted upon himself. He had called her Capricorn. Her sister, Libra. Salvatorre & Giovanni were Scorpio and Saggitarius. He had many more of them, littered amongst the covens and tribes of Europe's vampires. And again, he repeated, she was their salvation from the sun.
More lucid now, she was able to focus upon those words in the way her mind had only tried to earlier. He'd made a mistake, assuming simply that because he had created her he had control over her. But with new strength now, and perhaps the strength of her faith still strong in her even now repairing heart, she would not allow him to have such power over her.
With new speed, and the inhuman ability to scale the wall as though levitating, Caprice tore down the curtains, pulling away the nailed boards obscuring the windows. The sun was still out, and the afternoon glow washed into the room. The four vampires all retreated from it, Salvatorre & Giovanni momentarily caught and suffering quick surface burns before the escaped it. Vincenzo cowered from it behind Lucia, growling and snarling, fangs beared and eyes wide as a beasts while Caprice languished in the light. She spat more profanities at him, and declared that she would have her revenge on him and all his kind. He had made her a monster. He had made her his own undoing. Lucia slowly stepped forward into the sunlight, her porcelain skin initially unaffected as she bore her fangs in a vicious hiss and her eyes narrowed into feline slits, dark veins highlighted by the suns glow underneath the paper thin flesh. But smoke slowly started to rise from its surface as it reddened and started to show signs of blistering. Yet she did not move away from it.
Caprice did not waste any more time. She was dealing with monsters, and even if she was now one herself, she was still weakened, and did not fully understand what she could now do. She took the opportunity of them being trapped behind the shafts of sunlight to escape. Lucia did not attempt to pursue her... she could clearly tolerate the sun better than the others, but she was not immune to its effect on her demon's skin.
Caprice did not return to her parents' home. She did not want them to see what she had become; beautiful again, yes, but monstrous... a demon. She made her way back to Berlin, a perilous journey in her new state, trying to avoid the notice of easily scared civilians and innocents... trying to avoid innocents that came to be more and more appetising to her the longer time went on.
Soon she would be back in Berlin, back at the Guardsmen's headquarters... but she did not know what to expect of them once they saw her...
Alias: Capricorn
AKAs: Capri, The Red Lady
Physical Description
Hair: Warm brown, naturally long and straight, but often in a variety of styles
Eyes: Bright red
Ethnicity: Italian
Age: 28
Build: Slim, sleek, toned, 5'8''
Uniform: When mission active, Capricorn wears skin-tight black leather pants, heeled boots and a form-fitting blood red leather sleevless jacket.
Personal Style: In downtime Caprice tends to dress rather provocatively. Not purposefully slutty or revealing as such, but in a fashion that is comfortable to her but often perhaps inappropriately in others company. For example, baggy vests that might easily reveal a glimpse from the side, comfortable shorts that are quite short, oversized shirts barely buttoned up, or quite simply underwear or lingerie. It's not always intentional (though, sometimes, yes it is), but always provocative. When in casual clothing out and about, it can be very much the same. Revealing or form-hugging dresses that are just about over the line of appropriate, tight pants and barely there vests or tops or t-shirts, short skirts and sometimes just a bikini top depending on the weather, shirts purposely unbuttoned far too low but somehow always just in place to cover anything overly inappropriate. She always wears an interesting array of jewelry, be it bracelts, bangles, rings, chains, necklaces etc etc., all very tastefully accessorizing what she's wearing. In daylight, she always wears sunglasses.
Psychological Description
Personality: Caprice Aurelia was born and raised a devout Roman Catholic in a wealthy philanthropic family in Milan. Despite her vampirism, she still has both her faith and beliefs. She was a kind, considerate, gentle and caring soul who believed in the good in the world, however hidden it may sometimes seem. A calm, soothing person to be in the presence of. These aspects of her old personality are still within her, however deeply buried they are. Occasionally, they will show themselves if the circumstances are correct. Since her vampirism, the release of more base, locked away instincts, drives and emotions have come more to the fore. She now has darker, more primal urges that drive the majority of her personality. Most notably, there is the blood-thirst and soulless quality of the essential animalism of what she is now, making her cold and calculating, often brutal and harsh in her demeanour. Her sexual drive and instinct are emphasised, and often used as a tool or weapon. She has a deadly sharp wit and can be quite impatient. But there are moments, usually when sated and languishing calmly, that she can be soft and sultry, pleasantly apathetic, and sweetly flirtatious in the afterglow of feeding.
Relationships: Caprice's parents know she was a mutant, and did not want to hide her when her mutation manifested and marred her skin. But to protect them and their reputation, she insisted she go away under the guise of travelling and volunteering away from Milan. The Italian government still had its issues with mutant-kind that would have affected their philanthropic work. She made many friends on her travels, particularly in the Guardsmen when she joined them. Her parents, however, do not know what she is now. She has not cut communications entirely, but is very careful how she communicates with them so as not to reveal to much about the most recent developments in her life that would further threaten them, and quite possibly, devastate them. Caprice's childhood priest, Father Vincenzo, was always a close and beloved confidant for her, even after her mutation (the family obviously trusted him enough to let him on the inside), but as it turns out, it was he that created the circumstances in which her mutation manifested as it did, and ultimately led to her vampirism. Theirs is a very... complicated relationship. She shares similarly complicated relationships with the other zodiac vampires the Vincenzo has sired over the centuries; Lucia, Giovanni & Salvatorre, just to name a few. But she has also found allies in this new territory in her life, such as Pierre and Jean Molyneux, mortal vampire hunters, and Mercer Arcenaeux, a half-breed with his own vendetta against Vincenzo.
Caprice also shares an on-again-off-again tryst with Project 13, mostly based on proximity and opportunity rather than genuine emotion. They care for each other in their own ways, seeing parallels between their histories and finding a connection and understanding they share with each other.
Powers & Abilities: As a mutant, Caprice has enhanced agility & dexterity, clairvoyance (sensing the history of people, places and objects when she touches them), can create prionically generated illusions, can psionically drain energy from others on contact, weakening them, and can affect bad luck in the aura of an individual (it's unclear if this is somehow atmospheric around them affecting people and things around them, or directly affects them and causes them to inadvertently bring it upon themselves. it's often very subtle ow these things happen, even if they're big things like car accidents. Butterflies wings and hurricanes and what not).
As a vampire, Caprice's agility and dexterity are further enhanced, and she is gifted with inhuman speed. She also can levitate to a limited degree that is often employed to "climb" walls or perform apparently gymnastic or acrobatic feats. She can now more directly drain energy and sustenance from people by consuming their blood; she heals much faster than mortals, and feeding on blood further accelerates this process as well as temporarily enhances other abilities like a surge of new energy. She can psionically glamour the minds of small groups and individuals to ake them more open, amenable and compliant, and in conjunction with her original illusion ability, can glamour a larger crowd at a stretch and great strain. She also now has superhuman strength and durability, as you might expect. As a vampire, she can now also transform into a black wolf or cloud of bats, for both effect and function. Her natural animal senses are vastly enhanced to suit her position as an apex predator, and are particularly honed to prey or signs of prey.
Weaknesses: Caprice is not susceptible to a lot of typical vampiric weaknesses. She can be in direct sunlight, though she does find it too bright and unpleasant on her skin. It can hamstring the levels of some of her powers the longer she's in it. She needs to consume blood to sustain herself, and though she does have greater control over her impulses than a lot of vampires, there is still a blood-lust when it is needed. She can consume other foods for enjoyment, but they don't sustain her. At least once a week, she must consume living blood, and it cannot be from anything other than a human (or mutant or whatever, providing their blood doesn't have other qualities that make it too different to human blood). She is no more threatened by wooden stakes or silver than any other mortal, or any less: where she might heal faster from injuries from other materials, wounds made by a wooden stake or silver dagger affect her and heal as they would if she were merely mortal. The conflict between her new primal qualities and her faith, belief and previously innocent sensibilities are in constant internal conflict, which can on occasion manifest outwardly in a variety of ways.
Skills: Capricorn is well trained in multiple combat disciplines and with a variety of melee and ranged weapons as part of the Guardsmen, and especially now she has a natural affinity for hunting, stalking, harming etc.
Equipment: Capricorn's only regular pieces of equipment are two stiletto blades, silver with carved olive wood handles that are also sharpened to a fine stake point. She also has access to other various equipment and weaponry to suit her mission or activity.
Background: Caprice Eleonora Aurelia was born to wealthy philanthropic parents. Her father, a fashion designer who funneled a large part of his fortune back into his community, her mother, a concert pianist and patron of multiple charities. Her life was both remarkable and unremarkable in equal measure; she was obviously a subject of much media attention, being the beautiful and sweet daughter of such parents, involved in philanthropy and charity from a young age, and genuinely sincere about it. She never fell victim to the trappings of having wealthy, famous parents and in fact didn't value the fame in particular herself. She came to terms with it easily enough, and just accepted it for what it was, but between her charitable pursuits and incorruptable faith, the media was never able to sensationalise anything about her or her life.
She was always beautiful, and on occasion would model for her father's fashion lines so long as she was comfortable with the clothing or accessories, and also studied piano under her mother. Life was wonderful. She never had a boyfriend, but only because as lovely and kind as some of the boys she knew in her life were, she never felt she found the one, and she believed in waiting for that.
On the morning of her 21st birthday, Caprice woke calmly as the maid quietly roused her and set about opening the curtains. As soon as the morning sunlight flowed in and met Caprice's skin, she screamed in terrible pain, sobbing as she tried to scrabble away from it, but two whole walls of her bedroom were large windows... there was nowhere to escape to, the maid too shocked and frightened to think to close the curtains. She hadn't in fact realised the sunlight was the problem, and when she finally cold make her legs move, she tried to scoop Caprice into her arms and cradle her while trying to find out what was wrong. But she couldn't get close to Caprice, her skin was blistering, burning, smoke rising from its surface. Finally Caprice slumped to the ground still, unconscious, and after a few more minutes of burning and smoking, all the while the maid and other staff screaming and scrabbling to call an ambulance and rouse her parents from their slumber in the other wing of their home, it stopped.
Caprice woke back in her bed, the sun having already set again. She heard the beeps of a heart monitor and the rhythmic puffing of a rebreather, then suddenly choked against the tubing in her throat. A doctor emerged from her periphery and efficiently removed the apparatus to allow her to breath on her own. The look of pity on his face while he asked her how she was and told her not to fret scared her more than anything else. He wouldn't tell her what had happened when she asked, insisting it would be best if she spoke with her parents.
He went to collect them, and they entered her room with the family priest, Father Vincenzo, in toe. She cried as she saw the same look on her parents' faces, and instead concentrated on Father Vinncenzo's as he didn't look on her in pity. He looked upon her calmly, kindly, and she found peace in that gift he gave her.
They explained what had happened that morning, and Caprice began to remember it in snippets, panicking when she recalled that her skin had felt as though it were burning and blistering. Her mother weeped while her father continued with sorrow heavy in his throat. Eventually, Father Vincenzo placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder and took over. Caprice had always felt fondly or him, he was a kind man and a close friend and confidant to the family.
He explained that they believed she must have had some sort of immediate, allergic reaction to the sunlight that morning. He spoke of genetics, biology and other sciences as though he were recycling something he had been told, but knew enough to just make sense out of it. It was well known that he was the kind of priest that, even with his unshakable faith and belief, also saw the beauty and value in science as a gift from god, rather than somehow a contradiction of his omnipotence and omniscience.
It was when he used the word "mutant" that made Caprice's heart drop. At that time, in Italy, the government still did not have a positive attitude concerning the mutant race, or any other super-powered being. Caprice herself was part of the larger public movement to remedy this, but she had never considered how her life might be different if she were a mutant. She begged her parents for forgiveness, presuming their tears were in fear or shame of what she was, but they were quick to reassure her that they did not care that she was different, that was not even a concern that was registering with them. They had simply feared for her life. And also feared for her mind and soul when she were to see herself.
In confusion, her own tears stopped, and she asked what they meant. They couldn't bring themselves to answer that question, only continued to reassure her that to them, she was still perfect, and she must not be afraid. Meanwhile, Vincenzo had reached for a small mirror and held it to his chest until Caprice could settle her nerves and reach out for it.
He carefully handed it to her, touching her hand comfortingly as if to say "take your time", and let her slowly lift the mirror to see herself. She did not scream and what she saw, but fresh tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Down her marred, scarred cheeks. The blistering seemed to have healed already, but left behind rough, rugged scarring and patches of marred, dark discolouration all over her skin. One iris had bleached white, with only the slightest hint of a green border on the outside ring. The other eye had turned completely black.
It took some time and counselling from Father Vincenzo, the doctors, and her parents for her to accept what had happened to her. She took solace in her faith, and that these things must happen for a reason, something Father Vincenzo believed deeply and constantly reassurred in her. The public and the media had heard that she had taken ill, but several months later now, their curiosity began to breed the first instances of scandal to be connected to her name. What illness had she contracted? Was it truly an illness, or was she being treated for some sort of addiction, or perhaps she had become pregnant after some sort o sordid affair!?
Her parents wished to tell the truth, perhaps use this opportunity to inspire the country into a final push against the government's laziness concerning their outdated stance on super-human's. But Caprice refused. She could see now, what it must be like from the other side. With new eyes she could see that it wasn't simply laziness on the government's part. They might not openly hunt super-human's like witches, but they had no intention of improving their situation. In fact, she suspected if she and her parents were to go ppublic, they might even use their position in the media to make examples of them, twist the facts to turn the public against super-humans in some way. Father Vincenzo, unfortunately, had to agree with her assessment. As closely tied as church and state were, he could only confirm that super-humans were still somewhat demonised by most figures in the faith, and they would use this opportunity as Caprice feared.
Much effort, instead, was put into arranging a press conference organised just so that no one could get too close to see through the extensive make-up applied to Caprice's face in her first, and last, public appearance for some time. Under any closer scrutiny, the new topography of her face would be far too obvious. The media was satiated with the story that Caprice had fallen ill after being exposed to a disease by an unfortunate and unwitting individual at a local community homeless shelter. They were assured the gentleman, too, was also fit and well at their bequest and cost, but had refused to be publically known. It was only Caprice's spotless history that made it so easy to believe. But now Caprice had to disappear.
She told the crowd that while she was sick, she had recieved her calling. She would travel far away, to a nunnery, and begin a life in service to God. Father Vincenzo helped sell this lie. Of course, Caprice could not actually go to a nunnery looking the way she did. However faithful a nun might be, it was too dangerous that she would be exposed all the same. No, instead, she intended on leaving Italy, perhaps to Switzerland, and live in peace somewhere out in the coountryside away from the majority of civilization. In time, she would be able to show her face in small communities that wouldn't realise who she was and give a false name. Her parents would support her throughout, and she would continue to give back to the community in anyway she could, charitably, philanthropically, whatever it took.
She did just that. In time, she did begin wandering into town, and despite her physical appearance the Swiss were acepting of her, having a much better attitude toward mutants and super-humans. Certainly those that proved themselves to be thoroughly good people. Which, of course, not all of them are. The village one day welcomed a pair of travellers who sought room and board at the local inn for a few nights. They were brash, unfriendly, but caused no trouble at first. Going by Maria at this time, Caprice introduced herself to them when she noticed that at least one of them was also a mutant, his skin red, rugged and tough almost as though he were part shellfish. He showed no interest and simply ignored her as he continued to rudely shovel food and drink into his mouth. His fellow apologised, bu Caprice didn't like the way in which he did it, or the way in which he cast his gaze over her. She left them to their business.
It was a few days later that Caprice returned to town to visit the market when she heard the commotion and saw the stricken faces of the village people. Clearly, these strangers were more trouble than anyone had expected. She entered the inn to find it in disrepair, and the locals too afraid to do or say anything. The shellfish had a poor young man in a headlock while he drained a stein. His fellow laughed while carving inappropriate shapes into the stained oak of the bar. The shellfish caught Capprice's eye and tilted his chin at her while burping, as if challenging her to do something. The other glanced over his shoulder at her without turning or stopping his vandalising, his eyes quickly roaming her body again.
Only a couple of years ago, Caprice would have been to quiet, meek and kind to do anything about this. She would have tried to reason with them, pleading with their better sensibilities of course... but she knew that would not work in this situation. In the last couple of years she had learned a lot about herself. Learned that she was stronger than she ever thought, and this curse she carried could also be a gift. She'd learned what she could do, and though she still found herself questioning why she had been made this way, she only now in this moment had anything close to the hint of an answer.
She made surprisingly short work of them, even without any formal combat training, essentially by fooling them into dealing with each other through her illusions, then finishing them off with a touch to sap what energy they had left. She wasn't entirely proud that she had turned to violence, but she found a way to justify it considering the suffering the village had endured, and the fact she had actually been able to act in a way that caused no lasting damage. She felt God would be able to forgive her.
The word spread, news of what she had done travelling to more towns and villages, until news teams began flocking to interview her and the village people. She couldn't do much to hide, and feared that this would undo everything they'd done to protect her and her parents... but no matter how long it went on for, she heard nothing from home about anyone realising it was her. Her mother and father, in another of their regular phone calls, could only muse that simply no one had realised it was her. They said Father Vincenzo believed they simply had no reason to believe this mystery woman "Maria" was really Caprice; she had grown up so much and become a strong woman so different to how she had been before. How could they believe her to be the same person? Bizarrely, Caprice actually took some solace and joy in this estimation from her childhood priest. It was exciting to think that she had this strength within her all along, especially now that she had spoken to both her parents and priest who had both been so proud of her for doing what she did, and doing it so humanely.
She stayed in the village, even long after the novelty of her new reputation had died out and she was once again simply a well-liked member of their community. Just when she thought things had returned to normal, and she settled into the old routine with some bittersweet satisfaction, was when an armoured behemoth approached her property late at night, in the dark, to avoid notice of the village people further down the mountain.
Iron Cross asked her to join him in returning to Berlin and helping the Guardsmen with a task that would benefit from her particular gifts. When the task was completed, she asked (basically begged) to stay on and join with them.
She served with the Guardsmen for several years before nightmares began to plague her, and she began to exhibit some concerning behaviour. She thought perhaps she'd made a mistake after all, living this kind of life, and her actions were finally catching up with her and stacking up negatively against her faith. But she was wrong, so wrong...
There was something else. Something inside her, trying to come out. She caught glimpses of it in reflections, in shadows, in crowds... her dreams and nightmares became steadily more vivid, lucid even, until finally with the help of her friends and team-mates, she was able to understand them. They guided her somewhere, showed her images from her past. She insisted it was something she had to do by herself, for she had to return home.
She did not tell her parents what she was doing. She hadn't even told them what was happening, not wanting them to worry about her. Instead, she followed the most clear clue her dreams had given her, and returned to the church she had grown up worshipping at. In the dark of night, ensuring as little chance of her being spotted or recognised, she entered St Matteo's Roman Catholic Church, crossed herself with the holy water by the door, and slowly walked up the centre aisle whispering her prayers while admiring the statued architecture and stained glass windows. She stopped at the fourth row back on the left; where her family had always sat and her parents still did, wanting to be within the congregation, not sitting separate up front as if they were somehow better than everyone else. She jenuflected, took her seat, and continued to pray.
With a soft, calm breath, she spoke her last amen and opened her eyes, now ready to seek out exactly what it was she'd come here for. An ornate emblem, pressed in gold. It was so clear in her mind, like a photograph, but it was only a strong sensation or hunch that had her believing it must be here in this church. For some reason, she saw that emblem, and it conjured this place in her mind. It must be here somewhere, and she saw it once as a child. For some reason, it was important now.
While she searched the church, Father Vincenzo emerged from the rectory an noticed her. Quietly he approached, greeted her kindly with a hug, and asked why she was there. She explained everything to him, and showed him a rough sketch of what she sought. She had always been a good artist, he commented with a chortle, and confessed that he knew where this item must be.
He led her to the sacristy, a room behind the alter where religious objects and artefacts used in masses and rituals are stored, and surely enough there was the emblem hung over a high shelf staring down at them. She asked how she could have possibly seen it before, to which he shrugged and mused that perhaps it had been used as a decoration in the church at some time, as it wasn't technically a religious item. He apologised for not being able to offer her anymore explanation as to why it was somehow important, and so present in her dreams. He described it as a depiction of Belllovesus, a Gaulish king credited to have led the invasion of northern Italy and founded Mediolanum, the city that would become modern Milan. Perhaps it had been used as some sort of sign of respect to the city's historical origins during a community event?
Caprice could not see anything else in the room that sparked any thought or memory, and so had to accept perhaps she had led herself on a wild goose chase. Father Vincenzo apologised again, and asked if she had seen her parents yet. She said no, and intimated that she wasn't sure she should, it might upset them to see her troubled so. Father Vincenzo respected her judgement, and gave her some comforting words he hoped would help calm her soul if she were to reflect on them later.
Preparing to leave the city again and return to Berlin, Caprice changed her mind about seeing her parents, and made time to drop in on them. They were so pleased to see her, and they shared a meal and good conversation deep into the early morning. It was only when she was tired, and she let her defenses down, that her mother could see something troubled her. Her father was already asleep where he sat on the couch. They'd all had a healthy helping of fine red wine.
Caprice confessed everything to her mother, but spared some of the darker details so as not to upset her too much. Her mother creased with concern. Caprice showed her the sketch she had showed Father Vincenzo and explained what the priest had told her. She expected her mother to say something akin to "oh yes, that old thing" as the family had always been closely involved in all church and community activities and occasions, more often than not quietly funding them. But instead, her mother frowned in confusion and said she'd never seen it before in her life... but she did so slowly, as if not entirely sure.
It was only when Caprice reached to take the sketch back that her mother frowned deeper still and slowly began to recall that she thought that actually, she may have seen this before, but she wasn't sure why, how or where. To be sure, Caprice conjured an illusion of the actual object as she had seen it, and her mother's eyes widened. She had seen it before, but for the life of her she simply could not remember how or where, or when even. She was sure it had never been present at any community event she had attended or been involved in, and she had attended or been involved in all of them since long before Caprice's birth. Eventually, both tired from the long night and too much wine, they decided it must have been used in the church at some point as a decoration, and they simply remembered seeing it around.
Caprice slept in her old room for a few hours, to overcome the wine and be fresh for her journey back to Berlin. It was during that wine infused slumber that she met her properly for the first time. This other her. She couldn't understand her, but she stood naked in a lake of red wine up to her ankles, long raven black hair covering her breasts. She pointed for a long while at Caprice as she tried to speak, her eyes a bright red. Caprice begged her to try harder, telling her she could not understand. She wanted to move closer, but her body did not respond to her command. It wasn't until the other her slowly moved her pointing finger downward that Caprice followed the gesture to her own feet. Except she had no feet. She had no anything, she wasn't there... but beneath where her feet would be was the emblem, emblazoned on what she now saw as a pure golden plate as it shined clean and new. The other her spoke louder and louder, but it remained a muffled sound, as if heard through ears filled with thick fluid. The visage on the plate moved; where it had been in profile, it turned to face her, eyes widening like a beasts, and then so too did its mouth. Caprice's non-body fell through that mouth, splashing into the lake of red wine below, adn suddenly she had a body, writhing in the fluid to try and reach the surface again. It wasn't red wine... it was blood! She struggled and strained, naked and afraid, until she realised she could hear her own voice... the voice of the other her, though she couldn't see her... "Memento mori. Memento vivere. Mors tua, vita mea. Mutatis mutandis".
Caprice woke in a hot sweat, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. She needed to go back to church. She ran out into the morning light, uncaring if she was seen, and burrst through the church doors. It was still too early for any worshippers just yet, but Father Vincenzo was stood at the alter and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden wash of sunlight coming through the church doors before they closed themselves behind her. Caprice all but ran down the aisle, desperation in her eyes, and begged the priest to let her see the emblem again. With concern in his eyes, he nodded furiously and gestured to welcome her behind the altar and into the sacristy once more. All the while, she spoke of what her mother had said, and the dream she had had. He asked her to repeat the words her other self had said. It was Latin, not hard to decipher for either of them. "Remember to die. Remember to live. Your death, my life. After changing what needed to be changed".
Caprice had already grabbed the emblem plate and examined it more closely, frantically asking Father Vincenzo question after question, but he was so distracted by those words that he barely registered the questions. She chittered and chattered away to herself, manically trying to make sense of anything... but she never would be able to. It wasn't an answer to a question of hers. It was an answer to a question of his.
Father Vincenzo plunged the blade of a golden dagger deep into Caprice's back, so forcefully through her slight figure that its tip emerged from her chest having pierced clear through her heart. She immediately coughed up blood, eyyes wide and panicked. She wanted to turn, to look him in the face and understand why... but she couldn't. She was already dead. She was already dead on the floor at his feet.
When she woke, she was chained to a polished wooden table. She felt different, but she didn't yet realise how different she was. Father Vincenzo watched her from a corner of the stone walled room they were in... it looked similar to the architecture of the church, but she didn't recognise the room... were they in the basement? With a smile, he stepped forward, apologising for having to hurt her, but explaining that it was the only way to wake her up. She screamed profanities at her, and at first he looked upon her in shock, the picture of an offended man of God. She cut herself off, shocked at her own words... that was when he smiled a wicked smile.
He explained to her what had happened. How she was different. He had had to kill her, to allow her to live this new life. As he did so, he released her, his words lulling her into a sickening calm, and led her toward a large ornate mirror leaning against a wall. When she saw herself, she did not believe it at first... this was not her, not the her she had become accustomed to over the last 7 years, no. It was the other her. The one she had been glimpsing over the last few months, the one she had seen in her dream.
"You are vampire." Father Vincenzo whispered to her, and the very word sent shivers through her. Chills of both terror, and primal elation. He led her from the small room, to another where a long table surrounded by only candle light was surrounded by 6 chairs. One at each end, and two along each side. There were others there. On one side a pair of gentlemen stood close together, whispering to one another as they entered the room. On the other, a young woman, slightly younger than herself. All were as pale as she was now, but they did not share her blood red eyes. The gentlemen's eyes were black as night... the woman's were a shockingly pale blue, almost white.
He introduced them as her brothers, Giovanni & Salvatorre, and her sister, Lucia. They too were vampire. She questioned how this was possible, how they could exist, and as she looked up again at Father Vincenzo noted that his own eyes were a deep dark red, like burgundy wine... she'd never noticed that before, how had she never noticed that before? Father Vincenzo explained that the myths mortals knew were only half true. Their kind is myriad, all over the world, but their family... their family was unique. Their family had embraced the sciences centuries ago, and bred themselves into superiority. But that only got them so far. Father Vincenzo had adopted the new sciences as the decades ticked over, and his experiments had yielded so many successes. She was but the most recent. She was their salvation in the sun.
She questioned this comment, still dithering from the fatigue of death and the effect his glamour was having upon her, but casting her eyes about the room she noted that the high windows were obscured by long curtains nailed in place under heavy boards. Father Vincenzo helped her to a chair at one end of the table, and gestured for the other children to sit as he walked to his own chair at the far end. He did not address her half finished question, and instead gestured to the decantor and glass before her. She had already smelt it, it called to her like the purest nectar called a bee... she knew what it was, and she wanted it, but she didn't... she daren't. She bit her lip, and felt the sting of her own fangs prick them. Her own blood did not call to her the same way, but the feel of it beading on her lip warmed her core in the most vulgar fashion. She licked it away, and moaned at the feeling it illicited in her loins. Salvatorre and Giovanni watched her intently, grinning as though they knew and shared her every thought; Lucia stared at the space over the table, her face etched like impatient stone.
Father Vincenzo encouraged her further, and the gentlemen to her side leaned ever further over the table silently egging her on. She slowly reached for the decantor and the glass, and began to tilt them both toward each other... she took one more look over the rim of the glass at Father Vincenzo, and his blood red eyes screamed at her to taste it. With a hiss, she threw aside the glass, shattering it against the wall, and fell back in her chair, drinking deeply directly from the decantor. She felt it suffuse her entire being, filling her with life and strength, her chest heaving as lights exploded all throughout her. With one last languid gulp, she lowered the decantor, some blood still left, and placed it back upon the table. she felt renewed, but not entirely satiated. She stared at Vincenzo, and he sensed what she did not say. It was fresh blood, but no matter how recently it had been drawn, it was never the same as drinking from the source. It would sufficed at a pinch for any vampire, but nothing compared to the still pumping blood drunk directly from the source.
Her chest heaved with fast, heavy breathing. She asked about that; if she were a vampire was she not dead? Did she breath? He told her it was a habit of the physical form, something that would eventually abate the older she got.
She asked more about what she was. What they all were. Vincenzo told her that he had been experimenting, breeding weaknesses out of their kind, and turning to gene therapy the more he learned. She had been one of his greatest efforts; he had sensed when her mother became pregnant that there was something special about her genetics; her mutant gene. He experimented on her while she still resided in her mother's womb, here under the church. And continued to experiment on her as a young child. He had hidden these memoris from them with his ability to glamour, stronger than most after centuries of practice and the experiments he had conducted upon himself. He had called her Capricorn. Her sister, Libra. Salvatorre & Giovanni were Scorpio and Saggitarius. He had many more of them, littered amongst the covens and tribes of Europe's vampires. And again, he repeated, she was their salvation from the sun.
More lucid now, she was able to focus upon those words in the way her mind had only tried to earlier. He'd made a mistake, assuming simply that because he had created her he had control over her. But with new strength now, and perhaps the strength of her faith still strong in her even now repairing heart, she would not allow him to have such power over her.
With new speed, and the inhuman ability to scale the wall as though levitating, Caprice tore down the curtains, pulling away the nailed boards obscuring the windows. The sun was still out, and the afternoon glow washed into the room. The four vampires all retreated from it, Salvatorre & Giovanni momentarily caught and suffering quick surface burns before the escaped it. Vincenzo cowered from it behind Lucia, growling and snarling, fangs beared and eyes wide as a beasts while Caprice languished in the light. She spat more profanities at him, and declared that she would have her revenge on him and all his kind. He had made her a monster. He had made her his own undoing. Lucia slowly stepped forward into the sunlight, her porcelain skin initially unaffected as she bore her fangs in a vicious hiss and her eyes narrowed into feline slits, dark veins highlighted by the suns glow underneath the paper thin flesh. But smoke slowly started to rise from its surface as it reddened and started to show signs of blistering. Yet she did not move away from it.
Caprice did not waste any more time. She was dealing with monsters, and even if she was now one herself, she was still weakened, and did not fully understand what she could now do. She took the opportunity of them being trapped behind the shafts of sunlight to escape. Lucia did not attempt to pursue her... she could clearly tolerate the sun better than the others, but she was not immune to its effect on her demon's skin.
Caprice did not return to her parents' home. She did not want them to see what she had become; beautiful again, yes, but monstrous... a demon. She made her way back to Berlin, a perilous journey in her new state, trying to avoid the notice of easily scared civilians and innocents... trying to avoid innocents that came to be more and more appetising to her the longer time went on.
Soon she would be back in Berlin, back at the Guardsmen's headquarters... but she did not know what to expect of them once they saw her...