The hidden world of London RP [OPEN][INTERMEDIATE]

I strolled down the banks of the tames, trying not to breathe in the pungent air of open sewage, decomposing bodies and the cast offs of the many factories and slaughterhouses through London.
Ahead of me I saw the looming Tower of London, home of many memories and a rather good time with an execution. Surrounding it was the constructions of the industrial revolution, tall chimney spouts billowing smoke, filling the air with a dense black fog. I despised the Industrial revolution, the destruction of nature and the lowering of human status and health while the fat pompous pigs sit on piles of gold and luxury. Though I too had a titanic amount of currency behind me I would never use in such a manner as to neglect the care of the poor and downtrodden.
A group of young boys ran past me, laughing as children do. one bumped into me and I grabbed his tiny wrist, yanking him backwards as he ran. "I've been pick pocketed so many times now boy, I'm starting to consider dealing with the problem myself" As I spoke I felt two sharp pains in my lips, my fangs had come out, twin points of white surrounded by a blood red mouth. I felt the flaming urge deep in the back of my throat, the dry sandy feeling of an endless thirst, brought on by the smell of this boy. The boy went pale, his eyes wide. I took back my wallet and let him free, watching him bolt with such speed I though he'd take off into the sky.
Idiot, you haven't fed in a while, you shouldn't be outside among the humans I chastised to myself, knowing full well the dangers of ignoring my thirst for too long. I sighed and looked up to the sky, dark grey storm clouds were brewing, continuing the rain storm from yesterday. The sun thankfully absent for most of the year. I knew that in such places as Africa and India that is not a luxury my kind has.
A new scent filled the air, one I knew well. Human but familiar. I turned to see him coming towards me, his face grim. I knew that look, I knew something had happened. I sighed again, loudly and looked back up to the sky. It had started raining now.

Grinning malevolently, I stepped into the small stone room. A table in the corner held all sorts of vials containing glowing, swirling liquid. The dirt floor crunched gently under my feet as I strolled across the round room to the desk, paying no mind to the two young men, suspended in midair by a powerful spell in the middle of the room.
Slowly, I began fiddling with my vials of souls, poking and prodding each, taking notes and casting various charms and curses on them, purely to see the effect.
"Sir," said one of the boys, twisting his head around to look at me, his arms bound straight out to the sides by my spell.
"I have no time for you boy," I said, emptying a vial into a bowl, having to jab and prod the chicken soul to comply. Turning, I held the bowl up over my head and shouted a few words, "Evivictu Lacrease!" I yelled, the soul in the bowl burst into a fine mist above my head, slowly forming back into a stream of silver and floated into the back of the unconscious boy's head. With a jolt, he awoke, staring around in the dim, directionless light.
Tossing the bowl aside, I attacked his mind with my own, forcing myself into his consciousness, uncaring of any harm I was doing. The chicken soul lay buried deep in his subconscious.
"Dammit!" I swore, kicking the bowl against the wall where it shattered. I'd need a more dominant soul for anything to happen. Just then, I looked at the other boy and smiled.

I sighed loudly as I sat down on the door step, placing my cane across my lap. I watched as a pair of men, one as big as a three men and covered in thick reddish hair, carried away the bloodied and mutilated corpse of a young women. Above me rose the famed dome of St Paul's Cathedral, one of the great buildings that rose from the ashes of the 1666 fire.
"Na 'oo would be 6's and 7's enouh ter murder a lil' twist n twirl loike this, just across the chuffin' field of wheat from st. Pauls?" I looked up to see my friend and assistant, a big beefy man by the name of Thomas Cox, from the lower East End of London, the accent was as much part of him as my sapphire eyes and ivory fangs were part of me. Which annoyed me deeply.
"Someone who's both crazy and dangerous, a terrible combination. That makes them unpredictable" Thomas saw me staring past me and turned to follow my gaze. I was staring at the young girl being carried away. Her mouth was open in an unending scream, her eyes glazed over but still showing the fear she had felt before she died.
"So wot ya fin' did 'er in? Wolf? bat? fin' it might of bein' a warlock castin' summit 'e shouldn't?"
"One of those Frankenstein chaps. 8 feet, heavy set weighs as much as a horse. With some sort of contraption strapped to his arm, a kind of blade that would spring out and retract" I still stared at the girl as she was placed on the back of a wagon. Thomas looked at me confused, his mustache twisting like a rat in a trap. "'ow'd ya figure aw that aahhht from lookin' at 'er?"
I smiled and locked my fingers in front of my mouth, my sign of thinking or gloating. "I didn't, I killed it on my way here. I could smell his patched corpse flesh from the hotel just off cannon street"
"Alwigh' then mr. 'igh and mighty. 'ow'd ya smell 'im over aw the ovver smells in London?"
"When the human found me he smelled off fresh blood, young, female. Then on my way here i picked up on the scent again and followed it. Finding the brute proudly walking down an alley off Queens street. He was so full of himself that he didn't notice me till his head was bouncing on the cobblestones" I stood up, placing my cane on the stone step beside me and turning to Thomas. "And I must add, I did so without getting my clothes dirty or drawing my blade"
Thomas's deep rumbling laugh rolled through the air like thunder, turning several heads. He placed a large dinner plate hand on my shoulder and tipped his small bowler hat at me. "Only a bloody gentleman would worry baht 'a 'e killed a geeza or wot Two and Eight 'is clothes 're in wen there's murder affot."
I returned his gesture with a dip of my top hat and a small tap. "With enough hardwork and determination, and a good wash" I added, wrinkling my sensitive nose "You too could be a gentleman too Thomas" That comment brought on another rumbling laugh, the man slapping me hard on my back. If I were a mere mortal the blows would have bowled me over, now they barely moved me.
I waited till the thunder had ceased before pulling something from my pocket and held it up to the light. The crystal vial reflecting the cloudy grey light like a mirror, inside the silvery sludge like contents glowing like the moon. Thomas stared at the vial with interest, his eyes almost hidden behind his thick bushy brows.
"Where'd ya get that?" He asked, fingering the golden stopper. "The patchwork bolt head I left laying in an alley. Is this what I think it?"
"Yeah it be that. a 'uman soul. I fin' sum warlock or demons been up ter nah good, collectin' this" Out of the corner of my eye I saw a police man coming towards the scene, curious to such a large crowd. I pocketed the vial and said to Thomas "Send the girl back to the temple and tell the council about the vial. Then get me all the information you can of any murders similar to this one" I whistled to the men gathered around the cart and the street, pointing over my head at the approaching officer. They all saw him and as quick as a pick pocket they were moving down the street, disappearing int into crowds like ghosts.
I turned to leave when Thomas grabbed my arm, holding me back "And where 're ya garn?" I flashed him a smile, showing my fangs. "Where I always go when I'm hungry" And with that I broke free from his grasp and dissapeared into the night.
Thomas looked at the place i had just been, his shoulders slumped
"I 'ate it wen 'e does that .

With extreme interest, I watched as the souls of the two boys battled it out in one of their minds. Just as one would become superior, the other would come about and fight back, trying to control the body. The dead body of the blonde haired boy lay in the corner, his eyes black as ice. His soul now dueling in the mind of his brown haired compatriot.
With one final twitch, the boy's body fell still, the blonde's soul and mind winning over, but not knowing how to control the new body, he simply hung there in mid air.
I looked down at my notes and began scribbling. This was a great new discovery, how had I never thought of pitting two human souls against each other before? My own genius made me snicker as I left the room, the motionless body still hanging in the center of the room.

I made my way out of my castle, a small and dilapidated mess of a building. It did provide safety and disquise for my enchantments and experiments though, as many old castles had enchantments in their bricks, the Tutores would never be the wiser that anything was going on.
Down the green hills I strolled, my black robes replaced by a crisp white shirt, black leather vest, and brown trousers. In the lining of my jacket I carried a number of empty vials.
I made it to London around midnight, a fog descending from the west blanketed the city and muffled any noise. After a short, brisk walk, I made it to the Rummy Inn, a tavern and inn. Slowly, I stepped over the threshold, the barkeep trying to usher a drunk out.
"We're closed for the night!" he bellowed, he was a large man, broad with a large belly covered by a stained white apron. He bore a long handlebar mustache under his bulbous red nose and tiny eyes. He was bald aside from a single tuft of long brown hair protruding from the top of his head. With one last heave, he shoved the drunk out and turned to me. I stood next to a table, drumming my fingers on the rough surface. The inn was small, only big enough for four tables. A bar was set into the left wall while a staircase ascended into the upper story on the other wall.
"Git out!" the man roared, pointing at the door. Slowly, I pulled a pouch of gold from my pocket, letting it jingle loudly as I did so. The man's beady eyes bulged at the sigh of the bulbous pouch of money.
"I'll take a rum," I said, sitting down at the table.
"Yes sir!" the greedy man said, his short legs working on the double to get to the bar. Quickly, he sat my rum down on the table before me where he hovered, looking at me expectantly.
"Keep it all," I said, tossing the pouch to him. Standing, I picked up my mug and made my way to the stairs. Looking back before I ascended, I could see the gold from the pouch enveloping the man's face, now a burning molten glob. His muffled screams faded as I entered the single hallway, five doors on each side.
Slowly, the corner of my mouth moved up into a wicked sneer, showing my white canine. I could feet at least six people up here, six more souls for the cause.

"Boys missing here? In this neighborhood? I can't believe it!" I joked under my breath as I walked into the dirty slum. Spitting on the ground, I looked up at the huge castle and sighed. Real inconspicous. But before I did any investegating for the Tutores Latet, I needed a cigar in my mouth. All the times I never brought a cigar along I had bad luck. The first time I broke my arm fighting a Yeti. The second my partner had his soul devoured by a Demon. I learned my lesson.

I stepped into the local bar. A huge man with a handlebar moustache was in charge. I stepped up to the counter and sat down. I looked up at him. He was the greedy type. Would be quiet or do anything for a bribe. I hated his kind, but I sucked in my detest and asked politley,

"Got any ciggars?" He nodded and turned around, exposing his massive bum crack. He wasn't decent either. Setting a box on the counter he said,

"Which one you want?" I slid open the top of the box. He had my faviorate. I smiled pulling three of them from the box.

"Thanks." I said, tipping my hat. I stood up, lighting my first ciggar. I moved it around in my lips, as I looked around the room. All sorts of people here. Robbers, Muggers, Rapists, Pedophiles, all the kind you'd expect in a place like this. But one in paticular caught my eye. He had tatoos all over his bald head and wore something akin to monk robes. I pulled out my Alan and Thurber Pepperbox pistol and hid it under my coat. I went behind the man and touched his back with the end of the barrel. It was a huge pistol. It could rip a hole the size of a rabbit hole through a man.

"Could you please step outside, sir. I'd rather not do this in here." I said grimly, jabbing the barrel harder into his spine.

"

[Dude, did you read my post all the way? Bartender is dead and everyone's gone...]

[Oh... . Crap. I missed that. Ermm...What do I do now? ]

[Idea: Cross reanimated the body for a purpose, most likely to make the Inn seem in business while he carried out his dark plans on the captured people either in the Inn or at his lair, and thus distract the tutores latet]

[Nice idea, I'll take over from where Drag left off then]

I grinned, my white teeth flashing in the low candlelight.
"Reductra!" I yelled, spinning to face the man, my smile still born upon my face. He fired the pistol, but instead of going off as it was supposed to, it exploded in his hand, sending bits of shrapnel flying all over the room. The man recoiled, shaking his burnt hand.
"You shouldn't have done that," I said, advancing on the man, my fingernails and eyes glowing an ominous green. The man didn't seem frightened in the least, which made me a bit nervous, but he backed up at the same rate I stepped toward him. I froze, something at the door was watching me, I could feel the sapphire eyes boring into my back. Spinning, I came to face a tall vampire. He wore a long coat, buttoned down to his waste where black leather trousers could be seen. His hair was long and kept, tied back in a ponytail. The glittering white fangs protruding from his mouth setting him farther apart from the occupants of the bar, who sat at their tables, seeming only to stare into the distance.
"Kill it," I said, nonchalantly. Ever patron of the bar rose into the air, arms outstretched to the sides, their legs together. Their eyes taking on a sickly white hue. As one, the mass of bodies thrust forward, charging with bone chilling screams toward the man in the doorway.
Slowly, I turned back to the man to find he was gone. Figured he'd run off.
Sneering, I turned and began toward the door where the vampire was successfully beating off my soulless soldiers, who simply flew at him, swinging blindly.
"Raugh!" I yelled, a ball of green fire enveloping my hand. With one swift motion, I hurled it at the vampire, a creature that would have normally been unaffected by magic. But this magic was dark, driven by the hundreds of souls trapped within me. With a blood curdling scream, the vampire was engulfed in the flame, stumbling back as the flying bodies assailed him. I made my way up the alley, going nowhere in particular, the bodies smothering the burning vampire.

I stood up and gulped down the pain. It was a Warlock. The vampire would have to wait. I couldn't lose the dark mage! As I ran down the alley, I plucked pieces of debree from my hand. It was covered in blood! And that was my faviorate gun. I would have to use my left. Sliding my long dagger from its sheath, I started to gain on the Warlock.

I leaped at him, tackling him to the ground. Attempting to pin him so he couldnt move, the Warlock shot a small burst of green fire launching me 7 feet into the air. I hit the ground with a thud, the bald tatooed man getting away, laughing as he ran. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. My back was stabbed with a piece of a crate. I mustv'e landed on it. I really needed help. This Warlock was one piece of art.

Spinning, I decided I'd played with the man enough. I stopped, facing him, my arms out to the sides. He froze, a dagger in his hand.
"Turn back now," I yelled at him, sneering. From around me, the ground began to crack, and large chunks began to float upward, the glow returning to my nails and eyes. From around my feet, the green emanated, dim at first, it grew in intensity shining through the cracks in the ground. With a blast of bright white light, the ground exploded under me, blowing chunks of cobble high into the air. Surrounding me was a swirling vortex of souls. Most shapeless masses of silver, other taking on rough, blobbish faces, distorted as they swirled.
"Only death awaits you," I said, one of the souls darting out to thrown the man back against a wall.

[You guys rushed it, I was going to drag it out like a real investigation. Never Mind Then ]

"Sed hic non est coeptus mea mors illi," I swung my cane between the man and the soul, the wooden shaft flying off revealing a sword the color of dried blood. The soul impacted my blade and swirled around the metal, as the my blade adsorbed the soul I felt it's torment and fear as if they were my own.
My clothes still smoldered from the spell he had cast at me, my coat was ripped and torn from the mindless servitors. I had lost my hat in the fray and my hair now hung freely around my shoulders.
The Warlock stood facing me, surprised at my appearance, the thousands of souls swirled around him like a vortex. The wall of silver hiding the man's appearance from my eyes.
Behind me I heard the human groan, I could smell his blood. I turned to him, a smile on my face. "I thought your obnoxious cigarettes were suppose to be good Luck" He just returned my smile and spat a clot of blood, the cigarette still hanging limply from his mouth.
"How did you devour that soul with your sword, Blood sucker?" I turned back to the Warlock, my smile wiped clean, my eyes ablaze with cold anger and determination. "My sword was made by my father, the first of his kind and was enchanted by a warlock in the 12th century and bathed in the body of a soul sucker demon in the 15th" I gave the rustic blade a twirl and pointed it at the man. "You are not the first one to have used human souls as weapons, nor are you the first one to find yourself on the wrong end of Angelus sanguinis" The clouds parted and the full moon came into view, bathing me in a silvery light to match his. "So dare you try use your dark powers on me Warlock? The first and last of the seven children of the creator of our race. Dare you face the Ancient One?"

[Sorry mate, just trying to keep up with Drag XD ]

I froze, the vampire before me bathed in a heavenly light. Slowly, the souls swirling around me faded and dispersed and I was left standing there, awestruck at the sight of the blood sucker. It couldn't have been true...it couldn't
Slowly, I reached into my black vest and drew out a single vial. Carefully, and with my right hand still in the air, I set it down onto the cobbles, now returned to their former, lumpy grey appearance, as if the souls had not passed through at all. The souls of seven humans swirled within the vial, crying out in fear and panic.
Then, with both hands before me, I started backward, moving with even, slow steps, the vampire's blade still pointed at me.
"You'll be seeing me again," I said, and turned sharply, vanishing in a puff of smoke. I stepped into my small chamber in my castle and began packing. I extracted the defeated soul from the boy and returned it to its body before teleporting the boys back outside of my abode. The Ancient One was a dangerous enemy to have, I could remember clearly, one of the dark warlocks who'd been teaching me, years and years ago, dared attack him. I shuddered as a chill ran up my spine. I needed as little vengeful thought in my direction as I could have.

It was several minutes before the first solider showed up, the Tutores Latet acting swiftly to my call. I paced the alley way where the man had been, watching as man and supernatural creatures scoured the cobblestone road. The vial stood where the man had placed it, now coupled with the vial I had found last night.
The man had been removed, after I practiclly threw a yeti into the wall and yelled "Get Him To A Bloody Healer NOW!". The thick ape like man had wanted to leave him there as evidence.
A looming shadow appeared behind me, I knew who it was as soon as he stepped in the alley, and he knew I knew that.
"Wite then. wot we got this time? Thomas pulled out a battered yellowing pad of paper and a worn lump of grey lead, ready to take down everything I said. For a man of his size he moved remarkable fast
"A man, I couldn't see his face or another defining featured. He wore monk like robes but that's not much to go by. At best it's a Warlock, rogue with a dark intent. At worse, demon, possible angel class" Thomas stopped writing mid sentence, frozen in shock, To fight an angel was near suicide, and to face one of the fallen was suicide.
As my friend stared at me in shock, I felt a small twitch in my sword, I looked down on my sword, as if looking at a living being.
"Thomas, get me a vial please" The big man, still in shock, slowly drew a vial from his coat and pressed it into my hand. With a quick twist of my wrist I placed my rustic blade over the vial and scarped it over the lip. A thickish silvery essence flowed from my sword, pooling in the glass container.
"Wot the bloody bloody 'ell is that! 'a the bleedin' 'ell did ya get a 'uman soul into your 'sword!" That drew everyone's attention, all eyes on me.
Without hesitation I closed the vial and placed it next to others.
"Thomas, I'll be in my lab. I need to research a few things. Take these vials to a Warlock. When the human recovers tell him I need to speak with him"
Casually I strolled down the alley, ignoring their stares. As I walked past one of the walls I reached out and pulled out my wooden cane, lodged up to the head in the wall. As the end came out of the wall a smell assaulted my nose and I saw that it was slicked in blood, dead blood, like the type g blood the mindless minions of the man had. I must of pierced one of the minions through the head.
"Interesting" I said and exited the alley

I fled into the depths of the city sewers, knowing that the order of the Dark Mage would deter any investigations into the smelly depths. After only a few minutes of walking through the large, round tunnel, I came upon a small cave to the side, empty aside from a table with a burnt out candle set on its dark, bloodstained surface. Slowly, I checked the cave for traps or enchantments before casting my own, a green flash following each incantation.
Lowering myself onto the rough dirt floor next to the table, I put my head in my hands. What had I done, attacked the Ancient One, what a foolish move that had been. If he'd been any normal vampire, he'd be a pile of ash.
My thoughts were interrupted though as a small group of men, cloaked in black hoods and trenchcoats, appeared at the entrance to my small tunnel.
"Who're ye?" one of them yelled, startled.
"I'm Roman," I said ,standing, smiling at the men.
"Well yer abote ta be dead!" he yelled, over his small bout of fright. With that, a ball of orange fire sprang up around his hand and he hurled it toward me. The others did the same adding their own fireballs to his to make a much larger one. Stepping forward, I disappeared in a flash of green light, stepping up behind the men. Reaching out, I grabbed the back of one of their heads, his terrified scream cut short as a flood of electricity coursed through his small body. Throwing him to the side, I thrust my mind out, mentally decapitating one of the three remaining warlocks. He fell to the ground, foam bubbling from his lips.
The other two turned and began to run, but thin metal chains darted from the floor, wrapping themselves around their ankles and legs. With a sickening snapping noise, the chains tightened, crushing the men. Sighing, I stepped back into my cave and unpacked what little I'd brought. The bodies of the four warlocks simply vanishing in small puffs of smoke and light.