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No Word Count // 3-3-3 Rating

Dead Before Daylight is an Alternate Universe Urban Fantasy role play in a world where supernatural creatures and humans exist side by side – at least, some of them do. Creatures like witches, pixies and satyrs live and work as openly as any human. They commonly hold positions of power in government and are afforded every right and protection.

Other creatures are not so lucky. Those believed threats to humankind and other benign creatures are still persecuted and oppressed. Beings like vampires and werewolves are still forced to live largely in hiding, as they are not afforded the protections of law.

Such blacklisted creatures have created a haven for themselves in the small city of Dawnbreak; but their sanctuary is becoming increasingly threatened by the arrival of outsiders. In the meantime a menacing power is lurking in the forests and increasingly beginning to threaten the town as people begin to go missing, and mangled bodies are beginning to be discovered in and around the woodlands.


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 my world's on fire, ft. clay
He grumbled and groaned as he trudged away from town. He was over five hundred years old. Why didn't he have better control than this? His gums ached and he could feel the familiar sensation of his fangs trying to elongate. Hunger clawed at his stomach and as the moon bathed his already pale skin in an eerie glow, he finally stopped to look around, as his brow began to knit. Where the hell was he?


He was a special kind of drunk that night. The bad, grieving kind.

It had started with a couple of drinks before bed, and then it had all hit him out of nowhere. He'd gotten to thinking about his younger years, that day he'd walked in to find his father... The spiral had struck from there. A few beers turned into downing half a liter of whiskey and now Clay was out in the middle of the fucking snow dusted Alaskan woods, staggering his way along with no regard to his surroundings.

Sirius Wolfram

Sirius could smell the hunter before he was able to see him and instinctively, he shuddered. He knew he'd hear the sound of blood rushing soon enough and consequences be damned, he was going to get his drink on. "So, did you find a bar and drink it?" The centuries-old vampire inquired with a hint of a smirk. Okay, so he'd stolen that line from a television program, which had, funnily enough, been about hunting that which went bump in the night... Even though that had gotten a lot of the subject matter wrong. Perhaps, it was for the best, though.


Usually he was aware of his surroundings. He'd grown up in the Georgia pine forests bordering the Okefenokee swamp; the sort of place where being careless could result in grave injury or even death. Hell, even the winter wildernesses here were dangerous.

Clay was a little too far into the bottle to care about that, though.

It wasn't until a voice carried in the darkness that he realized he wasn't alone. Clay came to an abrupt stop, gaze trailing towards the voice as he rocked his weight to one side for a little more balance. He blinked to clear his vision, scowling when he spotted what at a glance appeared to be some idiot teenager, "Isn't it past your curfew?" the man countered.

Sirius Wolfram

He cocked his head, sighing quietly. "Y'know, sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt." He deadpanned, moving a bit closer but not by much. "I think you'd do well to remember that I'm not a teenager." Well, technically, he was a teenager and a very sickly-looking one, at that, but that wasn't really the point. "... Does it hurt to be human, to hurt and to feel pain for others? I mean, why else would someone taint themselves with copious amounts of alcohol?" In his day, people had done it to escape physical pain, as well as emotional pain. He supposed the times hadn't changed all that much in a little over five hundred years.


Vampires weren't really Clay's area of expertise. He hadn't crossed paths with too many of them, and he didn't go looking for them. It didn't even cross his mind that the scrawny kid in front of him might have been anything more than that, at least not until the question was asked.

Shit, Clay cursed silently as he reached behind himself only to clutch at empty space, "Shit!" this time he uttered the thought allowed when he realized he didn't even have his weapon on him.

Sirius Wolfram

He rubbed the back of his neck, flashing the other a boyish smile. "Even in your haze, you know to be afraid... I can give you a few moments to collect yourself if you like." He rocked back on his heels, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You must have known the consequences of coming out here, though, which begs the question why act so surprised now? Lions, tigers, and bears... Oh my. In this case, though, I suppose it's more like werewolves and vampires... Of the two, I'm going to guess you fear the latter more and with good reason." He hesitated, tilting his head back to peer up at the sky. "Do you ever ponder life whilst looking up at the stars? It can be quite the frightening concept, even moreso than that which goes bump in the night... And judging by your scent, in particular, I'm going to take a stab and say you've got the blood of quite a few mutts on your hands. No matter how many times you shower, it never quite goes away, does it?" He hesitated, but only enough for to revel in the sound of the man's heartbeat.

He could scarcely remember what it was like to hear his own heartbeat roaring in his ears. He envied the living. "For whatever reason, judging by your current state, I'm going to guess you feel guilty... But why? They're just halfwit dogs with a mighty thirst for blood, right? At least, that's what your people lead you to believe." He said quietly, eyeing the other quizzically. "Did the big, bad hunter man finally start thinking for himself and develop a conscience?"


Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. Even drunk it flooded his veins and provided a certain amount of psychological clarity, even if that didn't necessarily translate into physical control. He squared his stance to one a little more steady, shifted the bottle he was carrying into his leading hand while the vampire spoke.

Clay could feel his heart rate escalating until his temples were throbbing. It made it difficult to process exactly what was being said; he couldn't quite spread his attention that far at the moment. What he was aware of, though, was that the prick was off on a monologue tangent and just full enough of himself not to pay the mind he should have.

Shifted back into a more primitive form of self preservation, Clay waited for what instinctually felt like the best opportunity that presented in the moment; and once the vampire had moved in just close enough he swung the half full bottle, cracking it up against the vampire's head before turning on heel to make a blind dash back towards town.

Sirius Wolfram

He only sighed as glass shards sprayed every which way. "You shouldn't have done that." He murmured, trailing behind him, but not quite giving chase. He'd let the poor sob run as far as he dared and just when freedom felt like it was in reach, he'd launch himself on the sorry sonofabitch. He needed to feed, anyways, and this would be a perfect opportunity to do just that. "Little pig, little pig..." He crooned with an idle smirk, finally descending upon his victim. Despite the fact he was 6'0" and scrawny as hell, he prided himself on his physical strength. He had half a mind to squeeze him like a pimple until he popped but that would just be a waste. "I'm going to grant you a boon." He purred, savagery taking hold of him, even for the briefest of moments. He would turn this man without a shred of patience or respect into somebody worthwhile... But first, he would drink his fill. "I'm surprised you weren't taught to respect your elders... Or is that because I'm a leech and by default, evil as sin?" He chuckled then, unable to help himself, just as he sank his fangs into the man's flesh and began to drink.


He probably should have known from the start that it was too good to be true, that break for freedom and safety. It was a down hill break towards town, initially. Clay relied on that rush of adrenaline to run and maneuver; but it wasn't enough, not by far. He'd only just caught the first distant glimmer of the lights in town through the trees when the vampire caught him.

For such a slight, scrawny figure the creature hit him hard. It knocked the wind out of him like some 250 pound line backer. He didn't even hit the ground, just felt the impact and then being drawn back up by those fucking arms. Clay fought as best he could to no avail.

He felt the the piercing against his neck. Inebriated as he was the blood loss took effect that much more swiftly - Clay could hear the gulping and slurping coming from the vampire that had caught him. He struggled as long as possible but sooner rather than later the creature got the best of him and his legs went out. He felt cold even for the Alaskan winter. His legs folded and for some reason his last memory was clutching at the creature's shoulders as he sank to the earth.

Sirius Wolfram

He pulled away and sighed, shaking his head. It'd been fun while it had lasted, he supposed... Wiping his mouth, he glanced down at the state of the man and shrugged his shoulders. He could leave him there for every manner of beast to find, but he'd promised the sorry shit a boon and if nothing else, he was a man of his word. He squatted down and cradled the man's head in his lap, biting into his own wrist as he held the bleeding flesh against the man's mouth. "Drink, or die." He said simply, leaving no room for argument.


He was gasping for breath by the time the creature finished, clinging to the last shreds of consciousness. He felt colder than he ever had in his life, between the chill in the air and the lack of blood in his veins. His thoughts were muddled and disorganized. More than anything he was just aware of that desperate, instinctual grasp for survival against all the odds.

Clay had always thought that he'd rather die than become one of them - werewolf, vampire, whatever. But staring down one's own mortality brought out the dregs of a person.

The creature pressed a bleeding wrist to his lips. Clay was only vaguely aware of the words spoken, but even in his severely altered state of mind he understood the offer made. He felt the cold liquid spreading over his lips as he dragged in dying breaths. He fought the urge, briefly, but in the end fear of what came after won out. He drank. It was cold, thicker than it seemed blood should have been but he swallowed in those final moments before what would have been a natural death plunged him into darkness.

Sirius Wolfram

Sirius sighed and hung his head, shaking it slightly. He needed to get over his feelings of remorse and pity. It'd gotten him into trouble in the past. Now, he was stuck with a fledgling vampire, who probably wouldn't last a week with his attitude. Lifting him carefully, the man-child looking vampire carried him to someplace that was a bit better protected from the elements. It was a ramshackle cabin that had seen better days. Even so, he carefully set the man onto the couch and sat cross-legged on the floor, beginning to read his book. Good thing they didn't have to worry about freezing to death, he supposed.


Hours passed before he came to again. Clay jolted into awareness with a gasp - a lingering reflex from otherwise dead lungs. He felt strange. Cold. His breath felt strained as he panted, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Strangely aware of details he never would have noticed before - the smell of old, rotting wood, how stale the surface he was lying on was. Fuck. Where was he?

It all came flooding back after a brief delay. His hand flew to his neck, grasping at the place where the vampire had torn into his flesh... but there was nothing there to be felt. His skin was healed and smoothed over again, like nothing had ever happened.

Sirius Wolfram

Sirius sighed and slowly stood up, stretching his arms above his head. It wasn't that his limbs were achy or sore. He was just a creature of habit. "Welcome back to the world of the semi-conscious, fledgling... How do you feel?" He inquired quietly, looking over the other with a curious expression.

He couldn't quite remember what it was like to pass from one plsne of existence into the next, but he knew it was an experiencr he didn't want to repeat. He certainly wouldn't wish it on anyone but even a centuries-old vampire could have a bit of a bleeding heart, he supposed. "If it tickles your fancy, I've got a blood doll, waiting rather eagerly to meet you. You should feed, before the hunger takes over and turns you into the very monsters you've heard horror stories about." He reasoned, tenting his fingers beneath his chin, as he beckoned in a girl, no older than twenty-one.


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