Nocturne No. 9: Failed Formulas
General Summary
October 15, 1995 - Sunday
Another weekend show in the bag, Bullet With Butterfly Wings played over the speakers as Ophelia closed up the radio station for the night. In her head she went over the playlist for Monday's show, gossip was light on campus with all the students focused on midterms so it'd be a pretty music-heavy set. Maybe she'd dabble in some urban legends, but it'd been a couple weeks since she'd last heard from Daphne about any intrigue among Seattle's vampires. A knocking at the station door broke her chain of thoughts, she turned and saw a tall shadow obscured by the door's translucent glass. Ophelia knew she was the only one working the station tonight, so she quietly shuffled around in her bag for Daphne's gift. She took the plastic bottle full of a dark purple fluid and clenched it tight it in her hoodie pocket, cautiously stepping towards the door where the tall shadow loomed. "We're closed for the night," she said, trying to make out any details from behind the glass. "Come back tomorrow if you have any song requests." "It's not songs I'm after, Ms. Carter," The shadow replied, an icy voice that stopped Ophelia in her tracks. "There's been some new developments tonight that we must discuss." Ophelia took a step back, glancing around the room for any way to escape. There were no side doors in the radio booth, and before she could react she heard the door click open and the tall vampire step inside. His suit was sharp and jet-black, his white beard trimmed as though it was chiseled onto his gaunt face. Wilton Wither, the foremost Ventrue of Seattle, loomed over Ophelia with a bemused smirk. "Daphne and Jason have fled town, Ms. Carter." he explained, relishing the shock in Ophelia's eyes. "The Long Shadow can no longer tolerate Ms. West's failed alchemical experiments, and as such has ordered all Thin-Bloods banished from the city. Your domain is forfeit, effective tonight." Ophelia tried not to quake in Wither's presence, resting her hand on the bottle hidden in her pocket. "You're bluffing," She gulped. "Surely Daphne or someone would've called me by now." "Perhaps so, but communication can be challenging when you're running for your life to the nearest Anarch enclave," Wither replied, stepping deeper into the room. Ophelia felt her back brush against one of the shelves of records, nowhere left to run in the room. With a quick reflex she pulled the vial from her hoodie pocket and threw it at the vampire, purple flames enveloping the room with a searing intensity. Fire alarms started blaring, Ophelia ducking down and dodging past Wilton as she raced for the exit. Sprinklers soaked through her clothes, but she could see the media building's exit just a few yards away. With supernatural speed she started running for the door, but suddenly her legs stopped moving and she stood immobilized in the middle of the hallway. She felt a tall shadow looming behind her. "It's rude to make me use my powers, Ms. Carter." Wilton remarked, moving in front of the Thin-Blood while placing a hand on her shoulder. Deep burn marks cut through his face and clothing, his eyes glowed with a fearsome red rage but his face stayed calm and poised. "The young never know their place." Ophelia couldn't object, couldn't even scream, as she felt the fangs pierce into her neck. Euphoria turned into pain as the feeding dragged on, Ophelia powerless to stop Wilton from consuming her entirely. Alone with no sire or allies to turn to, the young vampire slipped into her final death as he completed the diablerie. Wilton Wither dusted himself off and disappeared into the night, leaving Ophelia's remains to be discovered by the fire squad and chalked up to a tragic death by electrical fire. When Wilton took over the University of Washington as his new domain he made sure to make a donation to charter the creation of a new radio station named after Ophelia Carter.
Another weekend show in the bag, Bullet With Butterfly Wings played over the speakers as Ophelia closed up the radio station for the night. In her head she went over the playlist for Monday's show, gossip was light on campus with all the students focused on midterms so it'd be a pretty music-heavy set. Maybe she'd dabble in some urban legends, but it'd been a couple weeks since she'd last heard from Daphne about any intrigue among Seattle's vampires. A knocking at the station door broke her chain of thoughts, she turned and saw a tall shadow obscured by the door's translucent glass. Ophelia knew she was the only one working the station tonight, so she quietly shuffled around in her bag for Daphne's gift. She took the plastic bottle full of a dark purple fluid and clenched it tight it in her hoodie pocket, cautiously stepping towards the door where the tall shadow loomed. "We're closed for the night," she said, trying to make out any details from behind the glass. "Come back tomorrow if you have any song requests." "It's not songs I'm after, Ms. Carter," The shadow replied, an icy voice that stopped Ophelia in her tracks. "There's been some new developments tonight that we must discuss." Ophelia took a step back, glancing around the room for any way to escape. There were no side doors in the radio booth, and before she could react she heard the door click open and the tall vampire step inside. His suit was sharp and jet-black, his white beard trimmed as though it was chiseled onto his gaunt face. Wilton Wither, the foremost Ventrue of Seattle, loomed over Ophelia with a bemused smirk. "Daphne and Jason have fled town, Ms. Carter." he explained, relishing the shock in Ophelia's eyes. "The Long Shadow can no longer tolerate Ms. West's failed alchemical experiments, and as such has ordered all Thin-Bloods banished from the city. Your domain is forfeit, effective tonight." Ophelia tried not to quake in Wither's presence, resting her hand on the bottle hidden in her pocket. "You're bluffing," She gulped. "Surely Daphne or someone would've called me by now." "Perhaps so, but communication can be challenging when you're running for your life to the nearest Anarch enclave," Wither replied, stepping deeper into the room. Ophelia felt her back brush against one of the shelves of records, nowhere left to run in the room. With a quick reflex she pulled the vial from her hoodie pocket and threw it at the vampire, purple flames enveloping the room with a searing intensity. Fire alarms started blaring, Ophelia ducking down and dodging past Wilton as she raced for the exit. Sprinklers soaked through her clothes, but she could see the media building's exit just a few yards away. With supernatural speed she started running for the door, but suddenly her legs stopped moving and she stood immobilized in the middle of the hallway. She felt a tall shadow looming behind her. "It's rude to make me use my powers, Ms. Carter." Wilton remarked, moving in front of the Thin-Blood while placing a hand on her shoulder. Deep burn marks cut through his face and clothing, his eyes glowed with a fearsome red rage but his face stayed calm and poised. "The young never know their place." Ophelia couldn't object, couldn't even scream, as she felt the fangs pierce into her neck. Euphoria turned into pain as the feeding dragged on, Ophelia powerless to stop Wilton from consuming her entirely. Alone with no sire or allies to turn to, the young vampire slipped into her final death as he completed the diablerie. Wilton Wither dusted himself off and disappeared into the night, leaving Ophelia's remains to be discovered by the fire squad and chalked up to a tragic death by electrical fire. When Wilton took over the University of Washington as his new domain he made sure to make a donation to charter the creation of a new radio station named after Ophelia Carter.
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