Kitty:

You've been in New York for a month now and find you love and hate the city. There are so many wonderful things here, the park, the shops and restaurants, the people from all walks of life. But for a woman with limited income, you are also thrust into the more unpleasant truths the city has to offer. You can only afford to stay in cheap hotels where rats scurry about the alley ways and dirty children beg for money and the more ambitious try to pickpocket. You are familiar with life in the cheapside of town, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. You almost feel as though you've traded one wretched city for another an ocean away, though you have good days too where you are happy you've come. At least you've managed to stop the dreams for the time being, though something tells you that they are not over.

It is either very late or very early, depending on your view, as you change into your nightgown and crawl into bed. The mattress is stained and saggy but it's better than nothing. You managed to haggle a decent price to stay in such a dump, no doubt because the lecherous proprietor thinks you are pretty and probably hopes to get a discount on your services. He is fat and smelly so it may not be worth the transaction. As you lay down to try to get some sleep you just start to drift off when you hear a knock next door. You've only seen the woman who stays there a couple of times. She's a pale, thin thing with mean eyes who keeps to herself. In a place like this it isn't too surprising to have such late visitors but the knock intrigues you nonetheless. You hear the door open and the buzz of voices in a room with walls that are far too thin. This continues for a bit and you start to drift off again when suddenly you hear a scream...

Kitty Kelly sighed as she changed out of her dress and into her green linen nightshirt; another day in the New World seemed to her much like the Old one.  America was known as a place to start over, a place for new beginnings, a place where no one could turn themselves into someone, with a little luck and a little hard work.  Fortunes rose and fell with every new moon, it seemed to her.  And as she stood on that ship, passing the enormous Brown Lady in the harbor, Kitty had felt newly born, as if her time in Wales and, especially, London, had all been just the shadow of a bad dream.  America beckoned as a beacon for new starts, and the capitol of this new start was New York City.

New York was, somehow, very similar to London, even though it was smaller and seemed, to her, more spread out.  And it was just as dangerous.  And even more than London, ethnic groups tended to live with their own, concentrated in clusters spread out in specific neighborhoods: even though she was Welsh by birth, and English by law, she was considered Irish by the jackanapes employed at the new Ellis Island immigration office, and so she was told to go live in a place known as Hell's Kitchen, a drab, crime-ridden territory facing the Hudson River that was full of gangs of Paddy's, dingy saloons serving watered-down beer (but not ale or gin, as they did in London), church missions, butcher's shops, fishmongers, and every kind of poor, classless, wandering person imaginable.

But life in Edinburgh and Manchester had hardened her enough to survive just about anyplace apart from the Black Hole in Calcutta, and so Kitty had done what she did best, and made do.  She turned tricks when she felt them safe, steered clear of the gangs and the rotgut, and made enough scratch to get by, just.  But she'd hopes for far more than this for her new beginnings, and so far, after one month, it seemed as if she'd gone to a lot of trouble to go back to square one.

Her single room flat in the tenement was small and squalid, but was her's alone - a change from the old world for the better!  At least she had some privacy, not to mention an actual bed instead of a cot or pallet of straw, although it was neither clean nor particularly comfortable, yet it too was a step up for her. There was a simple wardrobe, a small table, two chairs, a basin, a pitcher, a chamberpot, and even a small mirror.  Kitty stuck her suitcase under the bed, and kept her clothes and extra shoes in the wardrobe.  A nail by the door is where she hung her coat and hat; her small, humble collection of jewelry she kept stashed in her old boot, also kept in the wardrobe.  She kept an ivory comb on the table near the basin, and beside that a small pile of newspapers, mostly old copies of the New York Herald.  When not working on a caper, she liked to read and then re-read stories and learn about her new home through them.

She'd just turned down the oil lamp so she could go to sleep when she heard the knock next door - she did not know much about her neighbor, her it seemed everyone kept to themselves and no one talked to anyone else unless they absolutely had to.  that was taking some getting used to.  Still, it was late and Kitty was tired.

She tried to ignore the sounds coming from next door so she could rest, but then she heard a scream!

Instinctively, Kitty searched for and found her knife, and quickly freed the blade.  Her skill with the dagger had saved her from more than a few sticky situations, including ones here in the City, and it always provided her with some level of comfort.  But what was happening next door - dare she go out in her night clothes and find out?

After considering what to do, Kitty decided to quickly put on her shoes, wrap a shawl around herself, take the oil lamp in one hand, and the dagger in the other, and she unlocked the door to her flat and peeked outside into the hallway, her ears and eyes open for more clues.

The screaming grows more frantic as you ready yourself and soon you are in the hallway and find the woman's door open. She is twitching, her eyes glazed over and her body limp as you see a man bent over her, biting into her neck savagely. To your shock he has rows of sharp teeth and blood runs down his face! He sees you and smiles, his cold eyes chill you to the bone. Ah...dessert he grins. He starts to drop the body. You can either run or try to attack this thing...

ooc: If you do attack, please make an initiative and attack roll, if you do run I suggest a constitution check to see if you can outrun him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:45, Tue 28 Oct 2014.

"What in blazes!"

Kitty was taken aback at the horrible sight that beheld her eyes when she looked past her neighbor's door.  Whoever, or whatever, it was did not seem satisfied, but was rising to meet her and perhaps deal her a similar fate?  Not if she could help it...

After an involuntary step backwards in the hall, Kitty dashed the lit oil lamp at the feet of the horrible specter, hoping it might catch fire, while she brought around her trusty sharp knife in case whatever it was stepped towards her.

(OOC: 19:54, Today: Kitty Kelly rolled 19 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
19:55, Today: Kitty Kelly rolled 23 using 1d20+5. Attack with lamp.)

You catch the man by surprise and as the lamp breaks flames leap out at his feet, carried by the oil that has spilled everywhere. He gives a hiss of anger and leaps towards you, attempting to strike you but fortunately you manage to evade and you are glad you do so for as he misses and hits the door frame part of it cracks! Whatever he is, he's strong! By now the flames are starting to spread though at this point it is by no means out of control. If he's concerned though he's not showing it. He's far too intent on you. Suddenly you hear a voice behind you, a man running towards you from down the hallway. Get out of the way girl! he shouts. He has a short, thick sword in his hand, you've seen pictures of it in books before. A Japanese sword? From the sounds of him though he is Scottish and he gestures for you to run. You see he is a tall handsome man with a strong build and what's more surprising is there isn't an ounce of fear in his eyes.

ooc: You can either try to attack with your knife or run behind the newcomer, up to you! :D

Things were moving fast; the oil lamp had caught fire, as she wanted, but the man (creature?) did not seemed fazed.  It attacked her, but Kitty was able to get out of its way.  From the way it struck the doorframe she could tell whatever it was had great strength.

Just as she was trying to figure out how to get away, a man with a sword suddenly appeared in the hall, and seemed to be headed right for the creature.  Kitty quickly considered her options: her brain told her to get out of the way, as the man in the hall instructed; but her heart told her she should stay and find out what on earth the creature was - and more importantly, if it had anything to do with the strange dreams she had in London.

Kitty decided to step aside in the hall, and allow an avenue for the charging man to take, while at the same time holding her own ground, with her knife held forward, to protect herself.  If the man had not appeared, she would have fled, but since he was here...

"I don't know what manner of man or beast you are, but surely you will pay for your actions now!"

Her neighbor, even as annoying as she could be sometimes, deserved justice, jut as her sister had.  Kitty was tired of women becoming victims: sometimes you had to hold your ground and fight.

The two men face each other, the Scotsman's muscles coiled and ready for action. He faces the creature with a steady face and expertly dodges the man's attacks. He has clearly faced such things before. The fire is still an issue but fortunately the Scotsman doesn't waste time. As the dark man lunges for him, he twists to the right and spins with his blade, cutting the head off of his attacker in one swift blow! Blood goes everywhere and the lifeless body sinks to the ground, head rolling under the bed. By now the flames are reaching a point where it is necessary to depart. We need to leave, now! your rescuer barks. It occurs to you that you might want to grab a few things from your room before it catches on fire...

Kitty dashed into her room and grabbed what few, meager possessions she had: it took less than a minute to pull the suitcase out from beneath the bed and stuff everything inside the wardrobe and off the table into it.  She dragged the suitcase out the door, wondering if she was going to be held liable for damages.  And where should she go?  Kitty knew no one well enough in New York to ask for shelter.

"Should we inform someone about this fire?  What about all the neighbors?"

ooc: See, aren't I generous letting you take your things? ;P

The man sheathes the sword and leads you quickly down the hallway. In answer to your question about the fire he quickly pounds on the doors and yells "fire!" until he's satisfied enough people are aware of it to spread the word. Normally I would linger more but considering I just beheaded a man, I don't want any questions. he grins. You seem like a spirited lass. Most would be shaking in their boots after just witnessing a vampire. By now you are outside and the building is being quickly evacuated. Hopefully the fire doesn't spread but fortunately it's been raining of late and it seems unlikely. Now, I don't suppose you happen to have somewhere to stay?

Kitty's stomach lurched at the thought of the man, or beast, or whatever he was, losing his head, but things were moving so fast she had no time to react.

"I have no idea what this...thing you called him, is, but rest assured I am terrified of everything I have seen this night...."

Kitty was game for most things; life on the streets taught her more than any school ever could, and showed her things no lady of her day and age should know - but even she had her limits, and Kitty was fast approaching her's now.

"No, I have nowhere else to go, unless there is another shelter nearby with an opening.  But its so late..."

The handsome man's face turns sympathetic and he gives a nod. I have a place I stay when I need to keep unusual hours...Come with me. He leads you out through several back alleys and streets, zigzagging this way and that with the ease of someone who is incredibly knowledgeable about the ins and outs of the slums. Surprising considering that his grooming and well made, (albeit simple) clothes mark him as middle class. I suppose you have many questions missy, and if you don't you should. I am Ian Shaw by the way. he shakes your hand jovially. I don't normally involve people so easily in the work, but if I don't warn you I have a feeling my little rescue will be wasted. The streets are feeding grounds these days, not safe. he shakes his head. But I am blathering on like a fool, forgive me. You probably need a moment considering everything. I don't suppose you would be interested in a drink? he offers you a drink from his flask.

Life in the rookeries of Edinburgh had done much to drain her shallow reserves of trust in her fellow man: but when pressed with the choice of following the strange man who had helped her, or go off into the night by herself, with little to no resources and no place to turn, Kitty decided to go with her instinct and follow the man through the darkened slums.  “Katherine Kelly…”, she replied when Shaw introduced himself, “…but my friends called me Kitty.”

She did not like the way he referred to the streets as ‘feeding grounds’, and not for the first time did Kitty wonder if her escape from London was more of an instance of going from the frying pan into the fire.  The rigors of the evening’s escapade began to catch up with her, and she began to shiver all over – when the man offered her his flask, she took it without a word, and downed a huge swallow of alcohol, wincing as the unfamiliar flavor burned down her throat, but also relishing the warmth that began to spread from her toes up to the top of her head.

It took her a moment to regain her breath.

"I suppose I am quite at your mercy, Mr. Shaw; you seem to know what is going on far more than I do.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Wed 12 Nov 2014.

By now you are close to your destination. He explains that he has rented a small apartment on this side of town for excursions such as this. He is very kind towards you and something about him makes you feel safe. He continues to chat until you get inside, saving heavier conversation for a more private location. Nice to meet you Kitty. You needn't worry that I'll harm you. I used to be a copper and I've come to the aid of many a young woman in my time, still do when the occasion calls for it. he grins. Soon you are inside and you find yourself in fair sized one room apartment with a double bed, dresser, table and chairs, everything a person could need. You can stay for a while until everything dies down, he offers going to light the furnace. I don't use it much these days and you may want to keep a low profile. Soon he has tea on the boil and he pulls some blankets out of a cupboard and puts them on the bed for you.

Alright, I may as well get right into it then shall I? he looks a bit nervous, as though unsure how to start. I don't normally bother with explanations when I come across bystanders such as yourself, but you seem a decent sort so I'll do you the favor of telling you just what is out there. he pauses and sighs. What do you know of...vampires?