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    An Entirely Different Man

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    Jasper Bellamy
    The Mortician

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    An Entirely Different Man

    Post by Jasper Bellamy on Thu Mar 17, 2016 11:29 pm

    A young undertaker grunted in frustration as he glanced at the body surrounded by ice. It was the end of the day, and candlelight barely illuminated the room. He always preferred it that way, but something put him ill at ease when they actually had to prepare a body.

    “Ugh,” he muttered. “Wish there was a better way to make these things last longer...” He glanced over at his mentor, who was busy putting his tools away.

    Dr. Richmond looked toward the other male with a chuckle and a good-natured grin. “There is.” He adjusted the lapel of his suit and reached for his hat. “People just don't like it. Says it's an invasion of the human body.” As he walked out, the younger man trailed after him. And after a few steps out into waning daylight, he turned to look to him. “You off to see that strange foreign girl again, son?”

    The man nodded, a mischievous gleam in his eye that caused his mentor to chuckle.

    “Be careful there, Jasper. Woman like that are liable to cast a spell on ya. Women are the devil, I tell ya – especially the foreign ones.” Dr. Richmond exchanged grins with the raven-haired male. “You have a good night, son. Remember, I'll need ya with me early tomorrow for that service.”

    “'Course. I'll see ya, Doc.”

    The sun set entirely by the time Jasper had hopped up onto the back of his horse and rode off for that same particular home he often visited. As he neared his destination, he smiled at the candle lit on the window sill; their own little all-clear. Sliding off the saddle of his horse, he tethered him to the post with a light pat to the creature's mane and strolled up to the door. A quick movement of the curtains told him everything he needed to know: she was waiting for him.

    The door opened with a slow, soft creak, and he was met with an alabaster beauty that greeted him with a sweet smile and alluring blue eyes. Pale blonde hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders, and she spoke in that accent he'd grown crazy about. “Jasper...” She trailed off; her smile widened. “I was hoping to see you tonight...”

    “Sabína...” The young undertaker responded by taking just a few more long strides to her to close the distance. Cupping her face in his hands, he bent down to press a fevered kiss to her lips. The door was urged closed within seconds, steps moving them toward her bedroom: hers backward, his forward, always guiding her around furniture and obstacles with a near-overwhelming amount of care and tenderness despite the fiery passion in his kiss.

    “My love...” In the midst of their throes of passion, Sabína spoke to him breathlessly. “Did you mean what you said?” Her words were barely coherent, her lips dragging toward his ear to whisper her words. “Do you really wish to be like me; to be mine?”

    Jasper didn't so much as stop the movement of his body as he answered her without hesitation. He'd thought about it at length; weighed it heavily in his mind. Whether or not Sabína had bewitched him, he was certain that he wanted to remain with her forever. “Yes,” he whispered back to her, brushing his cheek to hers. His facial hair tickled along the side of her face and she smiled as she continued to nuzzle into him.

    “You're ready?”

    “Yes...”

    Sabína nodded this time as she clutched a handful of his hair, the sounds of their panting mixing together in an otherwise silent room.

    At the climax of their rendezvous, Jasper felt a new rush. As his body stiffened in ecstasy at that moment, he felt the sharp puncture of teeth against his neck and grunted with a start. He did nothing to stop Sabína as she slowly began to drain him of life. This time, it was she who guided he: gentle arms remained wrapped around him, guiding him onto his back once he'd finished and she'd continued to draw his blood from him.

    His consciousness began to fade; the room blurred. Sabína's movements increased with contained urgency. They only had but a few moments. He barely saw the outline of her nude body hovering over him as she brought her wrist to her mouth. Another few seconds and he felt cool flesh press to his lips, followed by a liquid dripping into his mouth that felt oddly warm on his tongue.

    “Drink,” he barely heard her urge. He forced himself to swallow, and what followed as he felt rejuvenation was a surprising feeling of euphoria that he lacked the strength to express. He found himself only able to lie there in a stupor, the pounding of his heart having quickly slowed to nothing. Touches registered: Sabína's sweet kisses to his face and forehead drew weakened smiles from him.

    The undertaker never reported to his mentor again. Sometime in the night as his other had been turning her, a strange male had emerged from another room of the house and untied the horse from its post, spooking it and sending it running away.

    Jasper spent the following day in debilitating pain while his body reformatted itself. His lover came to him to feed him as needed, but otherwise left him alone to adjust, just as her sire had done for her.

    When he next woke and stood of his own volition, he felt like an entirely different person.
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    Jasper Bellamy
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    The Undertaker vs. The Frenzy

    Post by Jasper Bellamy on Fri Mar 18, 2016 12:17 am

    Jasper spent days essentially taking a crash course on his new life. Sabína was there to gently guide him, as was the strange male he'd come to know as Mikel. They spoke at length of the remainder of their coven across the ocean, and through a mysterious bond between himself and Sabína, Jasper began to learn first-hand of the pain she'd felt up to that point.

    Unfortunately, they had no choice but to flee the day Dr. Richmond came looking for his apprentice. Believing the young man murdered, he arrived at the cabin with a small but angry mob of townfolk. The undertaker was only further angered when he banged on the door only to hear no answer.

    “Open this door! I know you did something to him and we aren't leaving here until we have your head!”

    An otherworldly hiss came from Sabína as she eyed the door with fear; Mikel glared and adjusted his hat with determination. “They're going to burn this whole place down,” he muttered in an accent similar to Sabína's. “We need to get out of here.”

    “Where will we go?” She looked fearfully between them, even as she held protectively to Jasper's hand. He was so young next to her; so precious. She refused to be parted from him, perhaps for fear that he would be overwhelmed by the mob in its hysteria.

    “We'll figure that out once we're away from here,” Mikel said suddenly, creeping along underneath the window to reach the door. His voice grew even quieter; the pair barely heard him as he continued. “Be prepared to run when I open this door. Do not worry about separating from me; I will find you.”

    The plan was a flimsy, but desperate one, and neither Sabína nor Jasper had a chance to object before Mikel suddenly kicked the door open, sending Dr. Richmond backward. Blood flowed from his newly broken nose, and while Sabína had begun to rush out the door with Jasper's hand clutched tightly by her own, she felt him stop.

    He'd seen fresh blood. Worse, his self-control was not yet anywhere near that of his two new companions'.

    Jasper stared dumbfounded at his former mentor, who looked at him in surprise. The older man's eyes went wide at the sight of his apprentice's now ashen skin. “Jasper! What are you doing with them still? Why didn't you sh-”

    But before he could finish his thought, the newly changed vampire had become a feral creature that proceeded to leap upon Dr. Richmond, his sharpened canines easily shredding the undertaker's jugular and smearing Jasper's face with fresh blood.

    The small group reacted with growing hysteria. Terrified shouts and screams erupted, and a look of horror overtook Sabína's face as she saw one of them aim a pistol at the back of her lover's head.

    “YOU WILL NOT HARM HIM!” The female then bared her own fangs, lunging recklessly into the crowd. Her startling approach caused them to scramble in a panic, and she tore the would-be shooter apart with little to no effort while Jasper continued to feed in his frenzy.

    Mikel joined the fray to aid in protecting both of his companions. Jasper had since moved on to the next living human being he could reach and systematically began to tear them apart in this wild state; Sabína quickly dispatched the remaining defender within seconds, having grown just as primal as the childe mere paces from her. The only lucid of the three who remained was Mikel, who stood over his kill, stunned. Beginning to approach Sabína to calm her once more, he stopped as she saw her slowly beginning to come to once more. She looked to Mikel, then immediately to Jasper, who continued to shred the bodies beneath him and nearby to pieces with his teeth any chance he got.

    She moved toward him with a frown and brought a hand to his now heavily tousled hair. “Jasper, my love...” Sabína sighed and knelt beside him, gently continuing to stroke his raven tresses until she noticed a lull in his feeding. His hunger had been sated, his defensive rage quelled.

    Blinking in confusion, he looked at the look on his lover's face, then toward Mikel, who continued to stand over the fallen bodies. Blood soaked the soil beneath them and the scent filled the air. He said nothing, stunned, and only looked away to grant them a moment.

    “What?...” Jasper looked at the small collection of bodies – five altogether – and felt his eyebrows knit. “What happened? What did-...” As he looked down and saw the abundance of dirt and blood on his hands and sleeves, panic began to mount.

    Dr. Richmond then came into view as he turned on his knees and looked around. His eyes went wide as he frantically recoiled from the scene.

    “Jasper!” Sabína moved after him and grasped his shoulders as soon as she could. Even with the anguished look on his face, she drew him close to her, his surprise becoming agony as he began to realize what he'd done. A pained expression contorted his features; his blood-soaked face hid itself against her neck, more like a small child than the grown man she'd come to love and at times look upon as a tamed pet before his turning.

    A mere few minutes passed before Mikel approached them with worry and gestured over his shoulder to the bodies. “We need to leave. Now.”

    And leave they did, packing only what they deemed essential and fleeing wherever  they could seek shelter before the sun rose once again.
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    Jasper Bellamy
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    Sally

    Post by Jasper Bellamy on Fri Mar 18, 2016 2:01 am

    Jasper's very being ached from loss on some days. He was on his own by then, a lost soul seeking purpose who wandered into Frittland City during his search for a new place to live. It was there that he met an alluring, young American woman in a polka dotted dress that he only came to know as Sally. Despite his developed disdain toward others, she managed to crack through his grumpy exterior and draw the occasional smile from his face.

    Surprise overtook him when Sally learned firsthand  who – or rather what – Jasper was. Somehow, their friendship only deepened into something more from there. Her temporary stay in the country became permanent; she found a home outside of city limits. She offered herself as a vessel to him, which he accepted with reluctance.

    The pair spent many nights together as they grew closer. The curly-haired, ruby-lipped beauty allowed him to keep his hunger in check with her own blood, but no matter how many times she inquired into being turned, Jasper always refused.

    “It's no way to live, Sally,” he remarked bitterly, even as he lie sprawled out next to her in bed, bathed in candlelight. “Or uh, not live.” Despite the glare in his eyes, his tone was gentle. “You need to live your life.”

    “I can do that!” She turned on her side to face him; he looked pointedly away from the fresh would on her shoulder. “I can do that with you.”

    He shook his head and growled. It felt like they were on about this every time they were together. “Woman, you don't get it. You don't want this! Don't make the same mistake I did.” Pushing himself up as he spoke, he got up and crossed the room to look out the window. The moonlight spilled over his front; he looked out his window in an attempt to keep his temper in check. Sally had grown used to this behavior: Jasper let out his grumpiness readily out of fear of his own temper. Perhaps that was why she'd become so insistent in the face of his resistance.

    They argued quietly for several more minutes, the young and naive Sally expressing her desire to remain with him. Something about it left him feeling gutted; his agony grew. Suddenly, his longing for his long lost Sabína returned, his blood beginning to boil the more the woman in his bed pleaded with him.

    “But when I'm with you-”

    “SALLY!” He turned to her, an angry flash in his eyes. His teeth bared, his fangs once again on display – this time threateningly. “I don't want to talk about this anymore!”

    Silence took them both for several seconds before she spoke up again. Her tone lingered somewhere between frightened and hurt. “... Maybe I should go.”

    Jasper remained as angry as ever. His back remained to her. “If you go now, you'd better be sure to never return,” he stated coldly.

    His words tore at Sally's heart. Tears flooded her eyes, and she quickly gathered up her belongings. As soon as she was dressed, she quickly left.

    After that, Jasper refused to look her in the eye, nor did he make any sort of contact with her for many years. But from that point on, he looked over her from afar, protecting her from potential hazards while remaining unseen. Something in him tightened and twisted when he saw her marriage announcement in the local newspaper, but he said nothing of it, nor did he do anything. She seemed happy; he could deal with that.

    As time passed and she grew older, Jasper watched from afar still. Her husband long dead, he felt her demise gradually approaching as well.

    Sally rested alone on her death bed one night when he finally made his presence known. He simply walked through her front door and made his way to her bedroom, where he perched himself on her bedside.

    Her ruby red lips were no more; she'd grown too old to care so much about her appearance, and keeping up with fashion trends was far down her list. Her curly hair had grown out: thin, grey, and tangled. She was a mere shell of the lively young woman she used to be.

    As her green eyes settled on him, recognition ignited a slowly fading stare. “Jasper?”

    He nodded, taking hold of her hand and smiling faintly at her. “I never gave you a proper goodbye.”

    Sally blinked up at him. Her lips parted and trembled with an emotional smile. An unsteady breath came out of her chest as she looked away. “I'm not doin' so hot...”

    Another nod. His smile was bittersweet: mostly sad, with brief happy twinges. “I know. I didn't want you to spend this time alone, kid.” With that, he lowered himself to lie down beside her. One of his hands reached up to gently stroke her cheek as her head turned toward him.

    “It's over soon, isn't it?” She let out a heavy sigh as her breathing became more labored. “Wish you would've turned me when I'd asked...”

    Jasper sighed at her, but found himself too sad to become angry. “I told you, it's no way to live.”

    “And this is no way to die,” she countered weakly. Her old eyes looked upon him with sorrow that slowly shifted to dull curiosity at the look on his own face. “What is it?”

    Propping himself onto his elbow, he looked down toward her, frowned, and planted a surprisingly tender kiss against her forehead. “I'll help you...”

    “Jasper?” Sally tried to look at him to convey her confusion, but he only nudged her head to urge her to look away from him again. His fangs presented themselves, and even as a thick, red tear slipped from his eye, he leaned in and punctured a vital artery in her neck. Her body jerked with surprise, then quickly relaxed again. “Jasper...” she repeated, this time with a sigh of relief. Part of her knew by then that it would all be over soon.

    Steadily, he drained the blood from her body until her pulse slowed to nothing and her final breath rattled in her chest. He licked his lips once he was finished and pulled away, stroking her cheek one last time.

    “I'm sorry, Sally. I know you wanted to stay with me, but you would have been miserable.” With that, he rose to his feet and left the way he'd come. No one seemed to be able to recall seeing the mysterious, raven-haired man after that.
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    Jasper Bellamy
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    Mercy

    Post by Jasper Bellamy on Fri Mar 18, 2016 2:43 am

    Upon hearing word that the existing funeral home closed down, Jasper knew what he had to do: he moved his business to the border of Frittland City, taking control of the very cemetery where Sally's grave rested. Behind her headstone sat a statue he had sculpted into Sabína's likeness: a memorial to the two most important women in his life.

    He spent time honoring Sabína's memory by gathering intel on the descendants of the packs that had all but obliterated her coven and sent her fleeing with Mikel all those centuries ago. He'd felt through his connection to her just how much the loss had pained her, and it'd fueled his desire to try to avenge her in some way.

    A call for a nearby pack to be 'scattered' had reached his ears; he volunteered his services as a natural enemy to the lycans who wished to not see them rise to power as they had in the stories that Sabína had told him.

    He was surprised, however, to find how mercilessly they slaughtered the entire pack of red-pelted creatures. Something about this didn't feel right; this wasn't something he could bring himself to do. He heard fear in the pack's voices; they were only trying to survive. They'd done nothing to him, nor had they themselves done anything to Sabína's coven. He bowed out, refusing to take part in their slaughter. But before he left the area, he blinked in surprise at the faint, frightened cries of a baby that had been overlooked in the chaos.

    “Huh?”

    Jasper looked around to make sure the rest of his 'companions' were still busy culling the pack before he moved toward the source, nearly buried in the rubble of a hut. He was surprised to find two wide, blue eyes looking out at him. Pale skin was off-set by bright red hair. The two looked upon each other in stunned silence before she suddenly reached out for him with a smile, as if they'd known each other her entire life. She couldn't have been more than a year into it.

    Conflict bent his brow. He stared at her a moment before reaching in and swooping the child up into his arms, shielding her with his coat. The small child latched onto him as he calmly began to walk away. All  the while, he muttered under his breath.

    “... No place for a child. C'mon... Mercy.”




    Mercy grew into a vibrant and beautiful young woman while Jasper's grouchy countenance was as steady and constant as the turning of the world. He placed only a necessary amount of focus on his work. The rest of his effort was placed on collecting old artifacts and keeping his identity, as well as Mercy's true self, a secret from everyone, herself included. He took her out to the woods for monthly camping trips; stayed with her through her nightmares. He was careful to keep her from any he suspected to be lycan and as a result, sheltered her more than he should have. 'For her own good,' he always argued.

    He wished not to lose her before old age one day took her. If she started to run with a pack, he feared what might happen in the event the pack grew too large...

    The young redhead became a bright point in an otherwise dark existence. Where he saw fit to brood in shadows, Mercy lit a match. When he preferred to scowl, she urged him to smile. Ultimately, she was good for him, and he hoped that he could look after her the way her parents would have, had they survived the culling.

    As he emerged from his attic and came downstairs one day, he grumbled at the unpleasant burning of the sunlight outside. He swore he felt it burning him through his very home, and he did his best to avoid the windows for the most part.

    The sound of Mercy calling his name registered in his mind, but he didn't immediately respond. When he finally did, it was a suggestion to change her clothing: they were expecting a service, and judging from the abundance of sun outside, she would likely have to hold down the fort while he recoiled back into his room.

    She offered him cupcakes as he told her this; he shook it off and looked away. Food hadn't appealed to him for a long time. Jasper couldn't just tell her that.

    That day, something seemed different. Something was 'off' about her, though he couldn't put his finger on it, and he was forced to temporarily forget it as she played it off. “I'm fine. You go rest. I got this!” she'd said, and while he'd tried to smile at her, his face failed to even make the effort. Instead, he slipped out of the kitchen and shambled back upstairs and into his attic, forced to sleep while he waited for the sun to go down. But as he drifted off, one worry nagged at the back of his mind.

    Is she really okay?

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