#0666: hallowed city

[xcapt-americas-ass]

Cry ‘Havoc!’

When the red mist rolled in the Winter Soldier hadn’t noticed immediately. The storage unit he shared with Yellow Jacket didn’t have any windows, and being asleep he didn’t notice the subtle shift in his senses. It wasn’t until he woke up, less groggy than he usual was in the mornings, that he realised he could smell everything in the Public Storage building let alone the storage unit (which was soaked with the combination of Lang’s and his scent) and he could hear the ants patrolling the outside perimeter of the building. His senses had been enhanced because of Erskine’s serum, but this was even more than that.

The sheer intensity of everything he was smelling and hearing in an enclosed space was overwhelming, and the Soldier was on his feet in the blink of an eye and not bothering with clothing the Soldier stumbled out of the storage unit and made a break for the exit. Running face-first into the red mist he grimaced, it was definitely unnatural, and it made him itch. His skin felt like it was crawling. As the mist surrounded him the itching got worse, racing past a mere itch to an unbearable burning that drove the Soldier to his knees.

Curling over on himself fingernails and metal fingertips dragged over his skin, fingernails that turned into claws as the mist seeped in, claws sprouting from his metal fingers as well. Claws dug deep furrows into already scarred skin, but no blood spilled. Instead, the skin flayed open and then was torn away completely as a massive, muscular, furred form burst out of the vessel that had been the Winter Soldier. The creature that rose to stand on two legs was more wold than man, with a paws, claws, a tail, and the head of a wolf, though his blue eyes were human. He was covered in honey-blond fur except for his left arm which was still metal, but the form had changed, no longer a human arm, but a long-fingered paw tipped with claws.

The urge to run was overwhelming. Giving in to the urge the werewolf threw his head back and howled before he took off down the street on all fours, tail whipping out behind him. 

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

A Bouquet of Brains

[“There was a chill in the air. The kind that settled in between your clothes and your skin and chilled you to the bone. Being dead the cold wasn’t a problem anymore, for us at least. Cin wasn’t happy, her spiders shivering against our skin.”]

Thankfully for the symbiote Noir was nearly at his destination. He had run into Erik not too long after the red mist descended, but they hadn’t had too much of a chance to talk. Noir had been starving and less in control of his vampiric tendencies than he would have wanted to be around the other man. The last thing he needed was to attack him in an attempt to feed and ruin things between them. 

So, Noir had made tracks, but not before figuring out that the other man had been turned into a zombie. The P.I. knew less about zombies than he did about vampires, but another trip to the NYPL solved that problem. Apparently, brains were the key to a zombie’s heart.

Noir could work with that. 

It didn’t take him too long to find a suitable donor. The man had been following a woman who had been out on her own, which was idiotic given the state of the city, but it provided him with opportunity when a man tried to corner her in an alley. The creep wasn’t hard to subdue, Noir not even bothering to pull out his piece. 

The woman ran off screaming while the vampire pinned the joe against a wall, fangs sinking into his neck. Drinking deeply Noir didn’t stop until the body stopped twitching; then he was pulling away, tongue running over red-stained lips not wanting to waste. His hunger sated the detective got down to the business he had come out here to commit. 

Five minutes later Noir was holding onto a severed head, careful not to tip it over since he’d used a handsaw to cut through the skull near the top so it could be opened like a macabre cookie jar, having been careful not to damage the brains since they were the goal. 

It took another ten minutes for him to reach Erik’s apartment building, and not knowing which door was his he didn’t bother trying to enter through the front. Instead, he landed on the wall of the building and crawled down to Erik’s window, clinging to the brick next to the window. Leaning over to look inside he knocked lightly on the glass with two knuckles. 

“It’s us, tiger, your favourite neighbourhood troublemaker.”

@markedmutant

[xnot-big-on-doors]

Ashes to Ashes

The Vision had been aware that strange things were happening in Manhattan. Those who were allies became enemies, robots from another time and place somehow found their way inside the quarantine, if he didn’t have a super-computer for a brain he would have found himself having trouble keeping track of everything that was changing around them.

The personality shift hadn’t seemed to affect Wanda or himself, but when the red mist descended to blanket the city it was indiscriminate in who it affected. Vision was outside when it appeared, and he had felt strange the moment it touched his skin. Instinctively the synthezoid had become intangible in an attempt to stop the mist from touching him.

That had only made things worse.

The mist moved through him, the man gasping as he felt his nanites being pulled apart. The body he had so recently reacquired was being destroyed, and there was nothing he could do about it. Again. And this time he didn’t even have Wanda there with him at the end. Being super-humanly intelligent one would think that the Vision would learn from his past actions and stop going out without Wanda, but the lesson had yet to be learned and now he was paying the price.

Thankfully, after almost a minute of soul-searing pain Vision realised that he hadn’t died. He’d been ripped apart, yes, but he felt much the same as he had before Tony had rebuilt his body, only...more. Now, instead of being a consciousness that travelled through telephone lines and electrical wires Vision was pure energy, a ball of lightning that crackled and sparked even as it faded in and out of existence.

Figuring out how to hold a form took Vision a few minutes of focus, but eventually, he managed to create a sort of form: infinite strings of code knit together in a sphere, surrounded by glowing energy. The code-sphere was the same red as his skin had been while the energy was the same golden-yellow shade as the Mind Stone. 

Floating there, the code-sphere contracted and then expanded, its glow brightening and dimming in sync, the action looking uncannily like a sigh. His witch was certainly going to have words with him.

@wiggiiewoo

[xpeter-parkour]

Surprise

Gwen had tried to convince Peter to stay in the Tower and rest, but rest was the last thing he needed. He had spent three years 'resting' (well, more like three years getting shot at and solving crimes, but the details weren't important), now that he was back home he wanted to be Spider-Man again, wanted to help people. The fact that he was also, apparently, a vampire put a slight wrench in his plans, but Gwen had fed him and he was sure he could find a bad guy or two that wouldn't mind donating to their friendly neighbourhood blood bank.

Currently, Peter was swinging through the city, moving way faster than he was used to. "Uh, Karen, do vampires have super speed?"

["As vampires don't exist there is very little concrete information on them, Peter. But, popular media seems to agree that vampires have super speed. And sparkle."]

"I swear, Karen, if I start sparkling…" Peter made a face behind his mask. Sparkling was not a good look for him.

Swinging around a corner he caught the sound of a yell, and twisting around in mid-air he thwp'd the nearest building and yanked himself to it, clinging to the brick as he actively listened for where the sounds of commotion were coming from. It didn't take him long to pinpoint the direction and then he was throwing himself off the wall and swinging in that direction.

Tumbling across a rooftop Peter caught himself at the edge, hand gripping the ledge as he gazed down at the street below. The Iron Spider's giant eyes narrowed at what he saw. A large, dark figure was flying down the street, by the sounds of it chasing someone, but from his angle he couldn't see below the creature. Looking closer his eyes widened in surprise.

Mothman?!

Not questioning it Spider-Man launched himself off the roof and aimed for Mothman's back between his wings. "Special delivery!" Hitting his target straight on he shoved himself back into the air, bouncing off Mothman's back and knocking him off course. Tumbling through the air he landed easily on his feet, and immediately shot two balls of webbing at the angry looking Mothman. "Don't you have a porch light to stare or something, buddy?" The balls of webbing hit the giant moth in the chest, and, apparently deciding they were more trouble than they were worth, he turned and flew off down the street.

"Remind me to get some giant-sized mothballs." Peter was chuckling to himself as he turned around to face whoever it was he had just saved, but at that same moment a silver-and-blond blur that smelled like wet dog rushed by them, so close that it knocked the young woman off-balance, spinning her around, disappearing in the same direction as Mothman.

Vampire-spider reflexes made it easy to catch the girl before she fell, though in his haste Peter forgot that he was faster than normal and overcompensated, pulling the redhead flush against his chest, arms wrapped around her. "Ah, sorry, I'm n— MJ?!" Finding himself staring into his best friend's face Peter was both elated and crestfallen. Elated because he had missed her, crestfallen because now she was stuck in the barrier too.

And then he remembered he was wearing the suit. Clearing his throat, trying to cover up his shock he fell back to old habits. "We have got to stop meeting like this, big red. One day something's gonna happen and I'm not gonna be there to save your lovely face." He was smiling as he teased her, fully aware that MJ could take care of herself against most things, at least most normal things. A giant flying moth man was definitely not normal.

@herwatsonways

[xcapt-americas-ass]

Winter is Coming

The Winter Wolf didn’t know how long he had been running for when he caught a scent that was familiar. Hawkguy. The man still owed him money, and Winter didn’t care that it apparently wasn’t the same Clint as the one in his universe.

Changing directions to follow the scent trail Winter dropped his snout to the ground so that he didn’t lose it. The position wasn’t the most comfortable, his form too big to be on all fours and still move at a steady pace, but as he moved he felt his form shift— shrinking, becoming more compact until he was a larger than average wolf with a metal leg rather than half-wolf-half-man. Now he could move faster and still follow the scent trail.

Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to Central Park and followed it inside. The trail went cold at a large tree near the middle of the park. Frustration had him growling from deep in his chest, and then Winter was turning around so that he could lift his leg and relieve himself on the offending tree that foiled his hunt.

@hereshawkguy

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

Death is Only the Beginning

[“I had come to accept a lot of craziness over the years. Getting ‘superpowers’ from a Spider God, travelling to alternate dimensions, the Web of Destiny, it got to a point where even the best P.I. had to stop asking questions and just accept that fate was sticking her leg out to trip him every chance the dame got.

But dying took the bananas cake.

I had just tracked down my apartment building when the red mist rolled into the big apple. According to the records at the Library the building had been declared a Historical Place in the ‘50’s, and it looked almost the same as it had in my universe in ’33. My apartment was even vacant, the previous tenants (an older couple with no living family according to the remaining tenants in the building) having been deemed ‘unviable’ by the robots that had been terrorising the big apple.

The mist rolled in thick and sudden, like the bouts of steam that billowed up from the subway tunnels, tinting the whole of my apartment red. It was strange enough to make me set down my hooch, but before I could even stand I died.”]

Noir was half out of his chair when he felt his blood run cold and his heart stop in his chest. Falling back into his seat there was nearly a minute where the monochromatic Spider lay slumped in his chair, dark eyes wide and unseeing. And then, all at once, the man’s body spasmed and he bolted upright, eyes wide, dragging in a ragged breath, filling his lungs with oxygen he, technically, no longer needed.

What in the holy hell just happened?!

Looking down at his hands his eyes narrowed, he had been pale before, but now he was pale as death, his superhuman vision able to trace the pattern of his veins and arteries under his skin. Shifting in his chair the P.I. took stock of the rest of his body, and for the most part everything felt the same, at least on the outside. There was the very disconcerting fact that his heart wasn’t beating, the blood in his veins wasn’t moving, and he was fairly certain the only reason he was breathing was habit, because when he consciously stopped breathing his body didn’t react.

But, it was the fangs that clarified things.

Running his tongue over his teeth Noir winced when he pricked it against an unnaturally long, sharp canine. More carefully checking the other one he found it was the same thing on that side before they both retracted into the top of his mouth. Fangs, no heartbeat, pale skin…Shoving himself up from his seat his chair went flying backwards, his physiology apparently having been augmented even moreso than usual. Ignoring the chair he started towards the bathroom, and ended up busting through the door because he was moving too fast to stop and open it. Again, he ignored the door and looked to the mirror, his suspicions confirmed when an empty bathroom was reflected back at him.

He’d seen this movie before.

Dracula. He had taken Felicia on opening night. He had all the markers of a vampire, and…always an investigator at heart, Noir lifted his hand and a sigh of relief escaped when he thwp’d the mirror, covering it in webbing. He was still Spider-Man. Dollface had warned him that weird things happened in this dimension, he guessed this must be one of them— Dollface. What if the same thing happened to her? It was a good thing he had already knocked down the bathroom door because he was back out of the room so fast he bounced off the hallway wall opposite the bathroom as he tried to turn towards the living room. The man cursed under his breath as he caught his footing, his balance as good as ever, at least. This extra power and speed were going to take some getting used to.

Already mostly suited up Noir threw on his trench coat, retrieved his mask from one of the pockets and put it on before thwp’ing his fedora into his hand, twirling it up and onto his head. At the last moment he remembered Dollface’s constant hungry companion, and from the window he thwp’d open the ice box, webbed one of the casseroles Aunt May had made him as a housewarming gift, and yanked it into his hands quickly creating a makeshift web sack around the glassware. Tucking it under his arm Noir swung out the window and started running across rooftops, heading for the last place he had seen ghost girl.

@spideyygwen

[xcapt-americas-ass]

Revelations

It had taken Winter several days, but, eventually, he realised that it was constant physical contact with the red mist that made the monstrous effects worsen. Which meant, if he could get Lang out of the mist then perhaps he could have his firefly back. They’d had one moment of clarity when Winter’s trick with the spotlights worked, but he wanted more than that.

So, while Lang was out Winter took the time to transplant their storage unit, in full, into one of the Public Storage’s basement units. Once he had their space set up the assassin dragged four of the spotlights outside, pointing them up and draining the generators even further to send four beams of light shooting into the sky, all crossing to create a super-bright point of light.

It wasn’t long before he saw Lang flying towards the light, thankfully with no one in tow. Winter waited until Lang was circling the beams, then he turned the four lights off and turned on the extra-large flashlight he had found, shining the beam directly at Lang. Using the flashlight as a lure the Russian werewolf guided Lang into the building and to the freight elevator.

When they reached the basement Winter lead the giant moth out of the elevator and deeper into the maze of units, having chosen one near the middle of the room where the red mist didn’t linger. Getting Lang into their unit the blond shut the door behind them, turned off the flashlight, and turned on the spotlight that was pointed at their bed, wanting to keep Lang in one place while they waited to see if his plan worked.

The werewolf waited for his moth to settle down, and then he was crawling onto the bed as before, only he stayed human this time, curling around the giant moth as much as he was able, prepared to wait as long as it took for his firefly to come back to him.

@particlexdealer

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

Is Your Bark Worse Than My Bite?

[“The weather had turned colder than our ex-wife’s heart. Whether the mist had something to do with the shift, or whacky weather was copacetic in these parts was anyone’s guess. Either way, we were thankful to discover that Carcinogen kept us warmer than our previous suit. We still layered up and kept our vest, trench, and fedora smooth— a doggy P.I. was a beat P.I.

Not that a lack of sawbucks was what was currently gumming the works.”]

Noir had thought that hunting for a meal wouldn’t be all that difficult. He was a dick, finding things was, literally, his job. Unsurprisingly, it turned out that most people weren’t willing to just let a vampire bite them, and Noir was still getting a hang of the compulsion thing. With Carcinogen in his head and his spider-sense on a constant, muted hum because of the red mist it made it difficult to concentrate on asserting his will on others.

What all that meant was that Noir had had two meals in the last three days, and both he and Carcinogen were ravenous. It had gotten to the point that Noir found himself in the park debating whether or not it was worth it to try and catch a squirrel. Thankfully, before he had to make that decision one way or the other Carcinogen was getting his attention.

{“Noir. Tree.”}

Noir turned to look in the direction the tendril of tiny spiders that had risen up out of his suit was pointing, eyes narrowing as he caught the sound of a heartbeat head cocking in that direction. Living mortal…or, at least alive enough that he was fairly certain he could feed off it.

The one vampiric ability he had gotten the hang of almost immediately once he discovered he could do it in the first place was melting into the shadows. He honestly wasn’t sure if it was a vampire thing, or a Carcinogen thing, or a result of the two combining, he just knew it was useful. Taking a step backwards Noir let a patch of inky darkness consume him, his body falling away in a waterfall of tiny spiders and dark mist that evanesced into nothing more than shadow.

Both spiders and mist spilled out of a hollow knot hole in the trunk of the tree next to the largest in the park, Noir not quite reforming yet. Instead they crept forwards, hundreds of tiny spiders shrouded in dark mist crawling along a branch that nearly touched the bough of the tree that the heartbeat was coming from, the spiders piling on top of one another to form a constantly writhing mass of arachnids. Peering through hundreds of sets of eyes in this form the image Noir saw was shattered, but he could see well enough to discern shapes, and at the moment he was trying to pinpoint the location of the heartbeat before he fully reformed his body.

@hereshawkguy

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

Lady in Red

[“It had been two days and the red mist still hung around the city like musk in a cat house. I—”]

{“WE.”}

[“…I—”]

{“WE.”}

[“…We had been roaming the city, keeping an eye out for my—”]

{“OUR.”}

[“No! My next meal, you don’t even like blood.”]

{“….”}

[“—my next meal. The selection was sparse, anyone with any sense was staying inside to avoid the mist that lingered. My blood hunger was being heightened by that of my new companion, and we stopped to light up a Lucky, the smoke seeming to help calm her.”]

{“There.”}

[“We saw the woman at the same time Carcinogen pointed her out. Since my transformation to vampire we had been learning to see mortals’ energy signatures, Karn would probably call them auras, and the energy surrounding this woman was…off.”]

Pulling his cigarette away from his lips he blew out a stream of smoke, dark eyes watching the woman in black and red moving through the mist, a combination of Spider and vampire enhancements meaning he was able to track her despite the partial camouflage the mist provided her with.

Since bonding with his symbiote (which after half-a-day spent speed-reading books at the NYPL had decided she was both female and named Carcinogen) Noir had foregone his mask (but not his goggles) and the undermost layer of his suit, Carcinogen seeming to prefer to cling to his skin rather than fabric. It meant that as he lifted his cigarette dozens of tiny spiders skittered away from his mouth so that he could wrap his lips around the stick and breathe in, and when he pulled the cigarette away the spiders settled atop his mouth once more, Carcinogen reforming to create his mask.

“Why don’t we go say hello, kitten?” 

Noir felt the symbiote surge over his skin at the suggestion. She didn’t like blood, but she did enjoy violence (and broccoli and nicotine). Still mindful of Dollface’s voice in his head reminding him that he couldn’t solve every problem with violence, Noir reached into an inner pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a broccoli floret tossing it in his mouth before he jumped from the rooftop and floated down to land light as a feather on top of a telephone pole, his abilities as Spider-Man helping him adapt to his vampire abilities. They didn’t help with the fact that the broccoli he ate did nothing to sate the hunger ache that settled in his belly.

Crouched on top of the wooden pole he watched the woman move, curious as to whether she would notice him. Every so often the man took a drag on his cigarette, tiny spiders ebbing and flowing around his mouth in the stick’s wake.

@elektralivesagain

[xcapt-americas-ass]

Howling at the Moon

[BNYC] Hallowed City // Steve Rogers a.k.a The Captain The Winter Soldier :: Werewolf

{Myth} Werewolves, or lycanthropes, are generally assumed to be the most powerful of the bestial shifters. They are creatures closely tied to the moon and wolves. Some say that the first werewolves were created millennia ago in Ancient Rome when Romulus and Remus were suckled by a she-wolf. Others say werewolves are the offspring of Fenrir and Hela, but no one knows for certain.

What is known is that werewolves are creatures that are more than human. Some werewolves are born, while some are bitten and forced to become a wolf. Either way the creatures spend part of their time as humans, and part of their time as half-man-half-wolf creatures (or even full wolves). Like wolves, werewolves have a strong pack instinct. They are driven to find a pack, and if they can't find one strong-willed werewolves will form their own packs ranging in size from a small family unit consisting of an alpha and their mate, to large groups of a dozen or more werewolves all led by a single alpha (and their mate, if they have one).

{Appearance} For the most part werewolves look like any other human. It's only during moments of intense emotion that their wolf might show, usually by their eyes flashing a different colour, or, if stressed enough they have even been known to grow claws while still human.

A werewolf has two shifted forms. One is a half-man-half-wolf form that will range from anywhere between six-feet and eight-feet tall, heavily muscled, and covered in fur. They can move on either two legs or four in this form, but they tend to be faster on two legs. For travelling long distances most werewolves chose to shift into their full wolf form (also known as dire wolves).

{Abilities}

Shapeshifting

Superior Physiology

Regenerative Healing

Extended lifespan

Mild Empathic Healing

{Weaknesses}

Silver

The Moon

Volatile

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

Vampire Noir

[BNYC] Hallowed City // Peter Parker a.k.a Spider-Man Noir :: Vampire

{Myth} The mythos about vampires varies wildly from culture to culture, but certain things remain constant: they are undead creatures of the night with speed and strength not possessed by mere mortals, and they sustain their facsimile of life by consuming the blood of the living.

{Appearance} Being both dead and night owls vampires are incredibly pale, even dark-skinned vampires taking on a duskier, pale appearance. They maintain the same general visage from their life as a mortal, but it has been said that intense emotions (either positive or negative) will cause their eyes to turn blood red. And while a vampire cannot gain new scars (unless the wound is made with a weapon they are allergic to) any scars they possessed as a mortal remain on their skin.

Fangs are a trait that all vampires possess, although they are not always visible. A vampire’s fangs, much like a rattlesnake’s, fold up against their palate when they are not needed. The oldest vampires have full control over whether or not to show fang, but younger immortals will find that they show fang in moments of strong emotion such as when surprised, scared, aroused, angry, or hungry. When their fangs are not in use a vampire’s teeth look like that of any mortal’s.

{Abilities}

Superior Physiology

This includes their speed, strength, stamina, and senses. All are preternaturally honed making a vampire faster, stronger, and more sensitive to stimuli than their mortal counterparts. Of course, this works both for them, and against them.

Immortality

There is no natural death for a vampire. Once they are turned they stop aging, and if left alone would continue to exist for eternity. They do not require sustenance (though they will, eventually, go mad if denied access to blood for a prolonged period) or oxygen, and they are immune to all diseases. It is extremely difficult, but possible to kill a vampire.

Damage Resistance

Trying to harm a vampire is, for the most part, a fruitless task. They will ignore almost all conventional weapons, their skin far more durable than a mortal’s, and even if the weapon manages to wound them their massive pain tolerance means that the attacker is dead before the vampire notices they’ve been injured. However, there are some weapons that even a vampire fears.

Regenerative Healing

The other reason vampires are so hard to kill is because even when struck by a weapon capable of damaging them their bodies will almost immediately begin the healing process. Depending on the severity of the injury this process can be slow, but it can be sped up by consuming the blood of another vampire, or someone with a similar healing factor. A vampire’s blood can also be used to heal living creatures from even mortal injuries, along with temporarily conferring mild vampiric traits to the drinker.

Metamorphosis

All vampires have the ability to change shape, but what they can transform into is determined by their age. Some of the oldest vampires claim they can take the form of man-sized bats. Vampires that have passed their first century generally find it easy to take the form of bats or even cats, anything of reasonable size that they are familiar with. Young vampires can only shift into a mist form, still growing into their abilities.

Telepathy

Only the oldest vampires are truly telepathic. The majority of vampires possess the ability to compel others to do their bidding, age and experience allowing them more control over their subject. For the first century of a vampire’s afterlife this ability is spotty, at best. It takes a great amount of concentration and willpower to compel another creature, especially if they are being compelled to do something they don’t want to do.

Vampiric Progeny

Any vampire can create more vampires, the process straight-forwards, but time-consuming. A vampire created in this way will feel a strong pull to stay near their creator for the first century or so of their afterlife, which can be unfortunate, since the Creator-Progeny bond has no bearing on how they feel about one another. After the progeny’s first century they almost always set out on their own, but the link shared with their creator is permanent, the older vampire always able to call their spawn to them, if they so choose.

{Weaknesses}

Haematophagy

Quite possibly the vampire’s biggest weakness. Their dependency on blood is what drives them. They can eat proper food which their bodies will digest and absorb, but it provides them with no significant benefit. Only blood will sate a vampire’s hunger, without it they will, quite literally, lose their minds. Newly dead and the oldest vampires are the most prone to succumb to blood frenzy. The young because they have the least amount of control, and the old because they need so much more blood to sustain themselves.

Allergies

Vampires, like the mortals they once were, are subject to allergic reactions, although, unlike mortals, a vampire’s allergies are almost always deadly and they all share the same triggers. Surprisingly, garlic is not one of them, although some vampires have been known to flee in its presence simply to continue the propaganda and trick mortals into thinking they had the upper hand. The list of their actual allergies isn’t long, but even minor contact with any of these materials will trigger a reaction that ranges from minor irritant to potentially deadly: sunlight [contact], silver [contact], certain medicinal herbs [ingest, wound], holy water [contact], and raw wood [wound].

Fire

Vampires can regenerate from a lot of things. Fire is not one of them. If a vampire is burned, but not killed, the only way for them to heal is to find somewhere light-tight that they can stay for an indeterminate amount of time and wait there, preferably with a steady stream of other vampires to feed off of to encourage the healing process. Even then, it won’t always work if the burns are severe enough, and since vampires are extremely flammable it rarely works.

Head Injuries

The worst place for a vampire to get injured, aside from their heart, is their head. A severe enough head injury even with a normal weapon (although the massive amount of effort it would take to inflict such injury would hardly be worth it) will temporarily incapacitate a vampire. There’s also a chance that during the healing process memories will be lost or shuffled around, the chance increasing with the age of the vampire.

Private Dwellings

Or, the lack of ability to enter a private dwelling without an invitation. Public property, or homes that have been opened to the public (historical museums, home business, etc) has no effect, a vampire able to enter and leave without issue. But, to enter a private dwelling in any fashion (via door, window, kicking the wall down) a vampire must first be willingly invited inside. Also, once inside, if their invitation is revoked the vampire will be compelled to leave the premises immediately, through a door, if possible, but by any means necessary if there is no door available to them.

Reflections & Shadows

The fastest way to determine if someone is a vampire is to put them in front of a reflective surface. No part— including their clothing— of a vampire casts a reflection, or a shadow. This can be useful when attempting to sneak around, but it also will give them away if anyone notices that everything is not as it should be.

Stakes

It’s not only wooden stakes that will kill a vampire. Any stake made out of organic, once-living material will do the trick as long as it pierces the vampire’s heart. Savvy, paranoid, vampires will have their hearts removed and locked away somewhere safe for just that reason. Although, that brings about its own set of problems since, if it can be found, it is much easier to stake when outside of the vampire’s body.

Sunlight

To be more specific: ultraviolet radiation. Sunlight is the worst, but any uv rays will very quickly cause a vampire’s cellular structure to break down and disintegrate. It’s possible, with centuries of controlled exposure to uv rays, to build up a resistance, but most who try such folly end up burning off bits of their bodies, and sunlight inflicted injuries will not regenerate no matter how much vampire blood is consumed.

Superior Physiology

Specifically their senses. Being able to see perfectly in the dark means that it’s possible to temporarily blind a vampire if there’s a bright enough light available. Certain smells, tastes, and sounds will drive a vampire away, not because of pain, but personal preference. Their sense of touch is enhanced as well, although their pain receptors are dulled to anything that they do not have a weakness towards. This means they feel sensations on a higher level than a mortal, things like cold, heat, pleasure, pain (when they do feel it) affecting them more intensely.

[xcapt-americas-ass]

Serendipity

The Winter Wolf was prowling the city again, having lost track of Lang again. He had already checked the usual bridges, and having no luck there he was just roaming the city, following his nose. It wasn't taking him anywhere useful, not yet. He was currently in his full wolf form, his senses at their highest in this form. Three paws were silent as he moved, while one clicked against the sidewalk, metal claws not exactly inconspicuous.

Blue eyes were alert as he worked his way through the dark city. When he wasn't thinking about Lang he found his mind drifting towards the Captain. The one he had cornered in an alley to demand answers from and ended up... Well, he got his answers eventually, but they had just lead to more questions. He didn't like how the other man-made him feel— like there was something he wasn't remembering, something just out of reach. A part of his past that didn't belong to whoever he was today.

And that was a whole second set of issues. Who he was, who he was going to be now that he was free from HYDRA. No trigger words, no handlers, no missions. It was almost overwhelming having so many options. To avoid thinking of them he had focused on Lang, and that hadn't been a bad decision. The man drove Winter crazy in the best and worst ways. They had had a night together, but after that Lang had become even more obsessed with getting his portal machine working and getting home to his daughter. Then they had become monsters, and now he was a half-crazy moth. 

The Russian was getting thoroughly tired of this dimension and its weirdness.

@wintersurvivor

[xpeter-parkour]

Tag dump~