View Full Version: •a [ m u l t i t u d e ] of casualties•

boundaries of the U N D E R W O R L D > role-play A R C H I V E S > •a [ m u l t i t u d e ] of casualties•



Title: •a [ m u l t i t u d e ] of casualties•
Description: •open to more than one•


Gabriel Michael Holland - July 20, 2007 05:49 PM (GMT)
    Blood was a beautiful thing. The texture, the color, the fragrance; it was intoxicating. The modern Vampire’s alcohol. Had Gabriel Holland not felt a natural desire to drink the blood of others, he was sure that he would’ve been addicted on mere principle. He was enamored with the way the eye lids of his victims fluttered, their lashes brushing against his cheek like wing beats. Or the way their mouths formed words that never escaped the prison of their lips. Other Vampires were ashamed of this fatal wound to the human species, but not him. He held no shame, no regret, no mercy. It was a kill or be killed world, and Gabriel planned on being alive for much, much longer. No one would get in his way; not humans, not werewolves, not even other Vampires. He had a certain detached respect for his people, but they were not placed above the others. He looked at them all with an equal level of disdain and dispense. He had, at one point, felt a kinship with them. But he experienced betrayal. He lived through it, of course, but he could never forgive that easily. He’d been stripped of his everything by the people who claimed they were the same as him. Gabriel had a small fraction of loyalty to them though, mainly to Kella. If push came to shove, he would look out for Vampires before he extended his hand for a lower form of filth.

    Werewolves, on one hand, were pathologically irritating. Gabriel couldn’t be in the same room as one without wanting to neuter {or spay, depending on gender} them. They lacked anything remotely resembling social grace, and honestly, looked terrible. While he detested them, Gabriel would admit that they were a step, how ever minimal, above the humans. Mortals were nothing but a food source. Sure, the females were excellent for quenching other more personal desires, but Gabriel viewed them the same way they viewed animals. Pathetic, unthinking. So it wasn’t hard, if you were, in fact, a Vampire yourself, to understand why they were fed upon. The taste was enough incentive in itself, but the fact that their lives meant nothing made it that much sweeter. Gabriel enjoyed feeding off of them.

    The moon was high in the sky over the forest. Full by the looks of it, but Gabriel wasn’t looking at it. His shockingly blue eyes were cast down, contemplating something just off of the path. One of his wrists was held parallel to his body as his other hand fixed the brightly sparking cuff links of his dress shirt. He finished and shook his arms out, allowing the dark, silken fabric of his suit coat to fall back down over the crimson cuffs of his shirt. Gabriel stood there for a moment, all of his movements stopping as he peered down at his latest victim. The girl lay in the damp grass, one arm bent up to rest just beside her flaxen curls. Humans looked so pretty as they died. The girl couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, though she dressed much older. He turned away from the dead girl finally, his eyes traveling down the front of his shirt. Damn. He was usually such a neat drinker, but tonight he’d been careless. The front of his scarlet shirt was flecked with the young woman’s blood, creating dark speckles over the expensive fabric. Cursing under his breath, Gabriel ran a hand over the shirt front, wiping away droplets of blood.

    It was only at that point that Gabriel took note of the moon. Fantastic. A full moon meant those rabid beasts were out playing. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with them, especially after he’d just ate. He was heady with the scent and taste of the girl, so much so that he needed to lean against the trunk of a tree to catch his breath. Sweet intoxication. He was overwhelmed with her delicacy, her vital fluid. She was a part of him, in such a way she’d never and never would again experience. He glanced over his shoulder at her frame, wreathed in moonlight as it was. What an exquisite creature. It was at times like these that he was overcome with affection for their race in such a distasteful way. Gabriel passed a hand over his eyes and continued along the path. Someone would find the girl eventually. Then it would make the paper. And then it would be forgotten. He looked up at the silver moon once more, the light reflecting in his eyes, and paused to admire its milky sheen.

Danica Jade Caprice - July 20, 2007 06:58 PM (GMT)
    The moon was bright and full. It was a spectacular piece of the world that brought forth hope to some, wonderment to others, and depression to many, human or mythical creature a like. If the werewolves had to depend on the lunar cycle, then the night would be perfect for them to shed their humanly flesh and become the creature that they had been cursed to be - a wolf, just one more creature of the night roaming around the earth in the hopes of a little flesh for dinner. While many of her pack fed whenever they wanted, many went in packs on a full moon to hunt a multiple elude of prey; kidnapping the humans, letting them loose in the forest, an all too familiar game rather from movies or books, but it was true all the same. Yet, one of the vicious beasts was not with the pack. Rarely was she with the pack. A loner in a pack - was that even possible? What purpose was it to join a pack if you weren't going to be any use? Protection perhaps. Just to be on a side, to know where one stood.

    Danica Caprice was perched on a rock on her hind legs, cigarette smoke escaping through parted red lips up into the atmosphere. The emblazoned end was soon tapped at the edge of this rock in order to release the ash that was still stuck to the white stick that would probably ironically end up killing her in the end. Roosted there in a black skirt, neon yellow tights, a tight, white sweater that revealed a black bra underneath, and black boots, which she had opted for over high heels since moving through the forest was a bitch enough without heels. The woods wasn’t her favorite place, but it was fun to see what went on in there, the different smells that wafted through her nose, and what sort of innocent bystander she could bring down with the wrath of her sharp choppers. Already she could smell a herd of deer in the far west corner of the shadows, some of her fellow wolves, a couple of vampires, which only made her want to howl at the moon with rage for they were such demoralizing creatures since they were so close to being human; and there, not too far off, death. Death smelt so good to somebody who craved it.

    Rising up, she stalked off to the scent of the freshly spilt blood, throwing the cigarette down and stomped out the light between the forest floor and her boot. Had it been anywhere else, it was doubtful she would have put it out, but this forest was one of the best hunting grounds and she wasn’t about to destroy it. They’d have her head on a stake and everybody would be too overjoyed with that The walk turned into a sprint, jumping fluidly over creeks, fallen trees, and other areas of nature. Running now, her nose also picked up the smell of alcohol. It was probably some teenagers out getting their buzz on. The sweet smell of booze was almost heaven to her. When Danica didn’t have a snore of cocaine every now and then, she turned to alcohol. Those things were tied for second place of her favorite things, right after hunting humans and feasting. Somebody had feasted that night and she was determined to figure out who it was.

    Finding the dead woman on the forest floor, she smelt vampire. Those damn bastards didn’t deserve to hunt. The body was fresh and smelt absolutely wonderful. The meat looked great enough to eat. That was the only good thing about vampires, they didn’t make too much of a mess to a body. As much as she enjoyed the pursuit, letting this beautiful body go to waste seemed idiotic. Bending down, she took a chunk of the arm off the body and chewed it between mandible and maxilla. Men. They were the most succulent of meat out there. Anybody that didn’t think so didn’t deserve to live. As much as it tasted like a little piece of hell right there on earth, Dani was not hungry. Stooping down, she moved the body around and covered it heavily with pine fronds and other sorts of shrubbery to where only those of legend could find it. Afterwards, she ran off quiet as a mouse into the forest, stalking the vampire that did it. Jumping up into a tree, her head perked side to side, she said, ”Excellent night for a taste of human, no?” Vampires were fun to play with in more ways then one. So many just got pissed off at the sight of a werewolf that it was amusing. Many hissed. Would he hiss?

Gabriel Michael Holland - July 21, 2007 04:22 AM (GMT)
    Werewolves had a very peculiar scent to them. Highly unpleasant, but curious all the same. It had the certain distinguishable characteristics of a canine smell, but there was something off about it. It had a bitter quality, like alcohol almost, but not that same smell. Just the feel of alcohol, that bitterness. Gabriel liked to compare it to a dog that’s walked through his own shit and hasn’t been bathed since. That was a pleasing connection in his opinion. On a present tense train of thought, the tall fair-haired Vampire smelled the Werewolf before she’d even thought of him. Werewolves always seemed to stalk the face of the Earth as if they were the only force that deserved to be reckoned with, but they were highly pathetic. Nothing better than wild animals. Had he the spare time and the dedication needed, he’d no doubt take quite the delight in slowly wiping them off of the face of the earth.

    Through the blurred depths of his essentially inebriated brain, he theorized that the Werewolf would come looking for him sooner or later. There was really no point in trying to hide. Not that he had any desire to. A nice little fight would be a fine thing with which to top off the evening. Straightening his tie with a hand, Gabriel strolled casually down the path, painfully aware of the gun in the back of his pants. He doubted he would use it, unless this ended up in a mercy killing, as he abhorred guns, but he was aware of it all the same. Vampires, humans, and werewolves alike all seemed to find a sense of false security behind their weapons. A lot of good they did you. If he’d killed one man hiding behind heavy artillery, he’d killed a thousand. He didn’t place his faith in anything—or anyone—other than himself. Your own person was the only thing that could really be trusted in his world. Guns malfunctioned, knives flew off target, but if you were sure of yourself, and as efficient as you saw yourself to be, anything was possible.

    But these Vampires today, they’d deviated from their original purpose. Vampires weren’t created to be peaceful and walk hand in hand with other species. No—their job was to wreak as much havoc as physically conceivable. Killing this werewolf might bother others, the fact that they’d so callously snuffed out a life, but ‘callous’ was Gabriel’s middle name. Well, no, Michael was his middle name, the name of Jesus when he was in Heaven, but the point remains. Gabriel had no emotions, and if he did, he hid them exceptionally well. Slipping his hands into his pockets, the Vampire whistled a melancholy tune and ambled down the beaten path, waiting for the arrival of his blood enemy. He was sure that blood, other than that of his pale victim, lying in the grass, would be spilt that night. And it wouldn’t be his.

    Finally, the awaited arrival of the beast came about. A voice rang out into the night, irritatingly cocky in its false self-assurance. Gabriel turned his head to look at the speaker, his electrifying eyes full of moonlight as they caught hers. A female, was it? Well, he hadn’t predicted that. But that made the whole escapade so much easier. Pity. He was hoping for a challenge. Gabriel watched her for a moment, like a bird of prey sizing up a potential meal. And then he opened his mouth to speak. “You werewolves aren’t half as clever as you imagine yourselves to be,” he said, his tone aching with boredom. The girl, as she couldn’t be much more than a child, had pink hair. Pink. He hadn’t been expecting that. What was the world coming to?

Danica Jade Caprice - July 21, 2007 06:47 PM (GMT)
    It was almost a disappointment when he hadn’t hissed or shown extreme hate right away, even though it was clearly written all over him. She smelt it on him. Hell, she hadn’t been expecting tremendous love or any such thing. It was a wonderment at best that he hadn’t took off running because she would bet her unimportant life that he had known she was there – and would be trailing him – before she even took the time to figure out he was here. Many vampires enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, trying to outwit there important. It was a game she would only take to playing when life seemed dull enough as it was – when coke had fucked her up bad, when alcohol proved worthless, and killing just didn’t give her that euphoria anymore. It was a game frequently played when numbness coursed through her. Being numb didn’t come upon her often, but a little raven did happen upon her with it in what seemed of cycles. The only thing to smack her out of it was the adrenaline pounding rush of taking down a victim of high figure or somebody that just pissed her off to the most inevitable. Loads of humans deserved death, but nobody executed the plan. It wasn’t like she was going around calling herself the new Angel of Death or anything, but murders to people who deserved them were justified. They didn’t deserve life.

    No numb feelings tonight, quite on the contrary really. Prickling tingles roamed around her skin as she became too jittery that her head kept turning, studying what would be an interesting prey. As stupid as the woman was, she wasn’t about to take this one on. Danica could smell power radiating from his pores, flesh that had handled guns, the residue smell trickling up into her nose; and the gun on his person. Really, she was fast, but vampires were fast and have a silver bullet right through her head. Yes, she lived on danger and thrills, but losing her life to some random vampire bastard wasn’t about to happen that night. Although, a fight seemed almost fun to her twitchy self, but would she be able to keep a level head to at least get some of that blood that could bleed forever and not kill to spill from that body? The tune he had been whistling long before she even spoke up still echoed in her ears. It almost felt like nails on a chalkboard for her at the moment, causing the muscles in her neck to tense up and caused her to start grinding her pointed teeth. Ripping them right through his flesh would be pleasure all amongst its own. The smell, the taste, the defeat, the raging power moving rapidly over her body – that would be hellishly magnificent.

    The urge to roll those ember eyes of hers up into her skull remained an urge, which took a lot of self-control for this one. Releasing a breath instead, breath barely visible but like a little wisp of fog, she stood up, resting a hand against the trunk of the tree, glad that she had picked a tree that had virtually no branches in the middle. Standing tall, her height seemed hardly intimidating, but her bite was much worse than her bark. Just the way she moved, and would soon start to speak, almost made her seem like she was walking through a dream. ”Tsk, tsk.” It was an odd response to his remark, but it was the unfinished thought that lingered through Dani’s brain that made the reply seem completely idiotic as if she had not been taught to speak in full sentences. Werewolves were full of themselves, that much she would admit, but never had she seen such a cocky bunch such as those damn vampires. They were human! They did not fly; they did not turn into a bat, but merely drank blood stay immortal hiding behind their fangs. Ooh, not scary at all. Children dressed up as vampires for Halloween, not werewolves. It might have been a proud moment for the species, but really it was pathetic. Children! They seem unfazed by those supposed scary creatures.

    With a slight shoulder shrug to the response that didn’t bother her at all, her orbs kept glued to the guy as she jumped down from the tree to land in a form of a crouch, only a few pine needles snapping underneath her weight. There was no fear that he would try to attack her. If he did, so be it, if not, whatever.”Aw, yes, because you pricks were granted with the thread of brilliance and wonderful good looks…” she replied sarcastically, the last remark more for him to realize that she knew what he was thinking – pink hair? It was a common thought wherever she went, but did Danica give a damn? That would have to be a big no. It was a way for attention really. Twirling her hair in between her fingers, she carried on. ”…aren’t you guys just the pick of a litter?” This was referring to the vampires being like a werewolf, which seemed so damn impossible to anybody – even her, but that he didn’t need to know. Of course, she had just called the werewolves the mongrels of this litter. Yet again, she was okay with that; she did not form a close bond to them anyway so it only felt as if she were merely dissing herself. ”I’m certain your kind lost half your IQ points when you evolved into going out into the sun, which means you don’t have many left. I’m so sorry.” The tone was bitchy, but that was how the Caprice woman was welded together.

Gabriel Michael Holland - July 21, 2007 11:20 PM (GMT)
    The girl’s sarcasm irritated him, but the irritation was mild enough where it could hardly be seen across his aristocratic features. Gabriel occasionally indulged in sarcasm, but it always annoyed him when another did so. Especially when that person happened to be a werewolf. And a young one at that. By the looks of her, she could be over fifty, unless she’d just been turned, that is. Pathetic, really. One who’d seen so very little of the world presumed to be more intelligent than him. He considered her for a fraction of a moment, as if perplexed at her audacity. It could be expected, of course. The young were always filled with such ill founded bravery and daring. Their bravado would likely end up getting them killed very soon. He saw a similar fate for this one. He, in his current condition, had very little desire to kill her, aside from his natural instinct. But he was sure that sooner or later she’d cross someone less… kind than he was.

    Gabriel was silent for a moment after she spoke, still staring at her with an eerie calm about him. She jumped from the tree and landed in a certainly primal way. His eyes didn’t leave her for a second. “Are you always such a fucking twit,” he said finally, almost carelessly, “Or are you trying to pick a fight?” His last statement rang with the unmistakable air of a threat, and he was reasonably sure that she’d catch it, even if her species had fallen on the stupid side of dumb. He turned fully to face her, after a moment’s pause during which he allowed his words to sink through her unusually dense skull. The girl had to be on a suicide mission if she were stupid enough to follow him, and then blatantly mock him. Vampires were known for their pride and exceptionally large egos, so she had to know the sort of response she would illicit through her actions. From the moment she’d opened her lips, she’d sealed her fate. The girl would likely die that night.

    But Gabriel was hardly in the condition or temperament to hazard a fight with a werewolf, though any other night he would have instigated it. No, if the girl chose to withdraw her gauntlet, he’d let her go unscathed. If not, a bullet between the eyes would suit her nicely. And then he could retire for a nice nap before Kella was calling him to attend to some asinine duty. “Because the last time I checked, it was you filthy beasts who were running around, hiding behind the form of a dog,” he said emphatically, the last word carrying a harsh ring to it. His disdain in her people was apparent, his disgust evident. Nothing could possibly persuade him that these… things were a legitimate life form. All they were in his eyes were bones and fur. Bones and fur.

    Gabriel regained control of his contempt, and straightened, rolling his shoulders back. His eyes remained on her, though, should she decide to do something stupid. She was nowhere near as agile as he was, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. As much as he hated to admit it, werewolves were stronger than vampires. He was probably more skilled in hand to hand combat, but her strength put him at a disadvantage. “Shouldn’t you be back with your pack, sniffing each other’s assholes and eating your young?” he said contemptuously, “What pack are you from anyway? Courroucé, I’m assuming. The Vorace aren’t quite as stupid as you’re turning out to be.” That statement was meant to be a direct insult against her pack, should she actually be a Courroucé. He considered both packs equally moronic; he made no distinctions.

Danica Jade Caprice - July 22, 2007 01:25 AM (GMT)
    In all honesty, it was a wonder nobody hadn’t decapitated her years and years ago or even tried to riddle her body with silver bullets. Where were these supposed slayers that were out and about killing off vampires and lycans for a price? Really, they did not seem as good as they appeared for her schedule was pretty much the same and it wouldn’t have been hard to take advantage of her since every other night if she wasn’t drunk off her ass she was snorting that white powder. Too many nights were spent of being so fucked up that anybody could have made her done pretty much anything. This was unbelievably stupid really for not only for her pack, but also for herself. It was only the matter of months really before she ended up being some sort of experiment in a cage getting electrocuted regularly or injected with some thick serum that would morph her entire wolf system. The girl was a tart and that was all there is to it. She craved attention and fun, going any which way to receive that desired gift. The small bullring currently in her nose had been proof enough – one drunken night in Mexico she woke up with that sucker through her nose and eyes almost bloodshot all the way through.

    Just the reference to being a twit just made her howl a laugh. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it made her laugh. ”Wow, I would have thought you would have just assumed I was a twit, werewolf blood and all.” With a quick chuckle, her head shook back and forth almost unrecognizably. ”You really did lose brain cells.” If there were any sense in Danica, she wouldn’t have bothered with the guy, would have turned around and just ate the woman he had left. But no, being about as dumb as a box of freaking rocks, she had to go piss off the vampire that could more than likely chop off her head in one quick move. Yes, the itching for a fight rippled over her flesh, but with this guy? Not the smartest move. Sure, she thought of death a little more often then somebody in her situation should have it was to a point of lusting over death. Perhaps if she really wanted die, it would be easy for her to stretch her neck out to either such her dry or to just chop off her head and send it as some sort of sign. Or the wolf could have just could have gone to the pack order and ask for one of those suicide missions as a spy. She would never come back from one of those, that much was certain.

    Leaning up against the tree, fingers at her colored lips where teeth were now digging in the beds of her bright pink nails. It was one of those nervous habits, but she took it to a whole new extreme until blood started pouring supply down the tips of her long, nimble fingers. How she loved the taste of the blood that poured from her own body. Was it normal to desire one’s own blood? Well, Dani wasn’t exactly the most normal that was standing around. ”Don’t be upset because your kind can’t do it either.” Had their kind even help a set of wings for flying? If those bastards hadn’t evolved, they wouldn’t even be able to enter the sun, not that it would really bother them much anyway. Yet, it never occurred to her that if it hadn’t been for their species own evolution then she wouldn’t be able to turn into a wolf at will either. That little detail completely flooded out of her mind like rainwater into the Pacific Ocean.

    A sigh had been suppressed. Really, it was completely possible that if any sound even sounding like a sigh came to his ears he would rip out all her hair and impale her to the tree. As fun as that sounded she would really want to pass that. As harsh as that comment about eating their young was, a smile crept over her lips. ”Touché. But you assume we want to reproduce with each other in order to have young.” He could make fun of their kind, her clan, but so could she. Really, she wasn’t such a stuck up bitch when it came to be devoted to her kind. Screw them; they hadn’t done Danica any favors. Getting all hot headed about shit that really didn’t matter to her was just pointless really, only reserved for the best of fun for boring nights. ”Oh, it does not matter what pack I’m from. I’m stupid either way.” This could go on for quite some time to be quite frank. The wolf girl didn’t oppose poking fun at herself either. Yet, as strong as she’d be with the teasing, it was possible she’d go home that night, either get high, cut herself, or just cry herself to sleep. Those were the nights that were the best, weren’t they? ”You’re Meutrier. It’s simple to see. Shouldn’t you be off doing some ridiculous mission like a good soldier vampy? Or are you off to screw something? Sheep perhaps?”

Gabriel Michael Holland - July 22, 2007 02:30 AM (GMT)
    The girl’s laugh caused Gabriel a bit of concern. Maybe she wasn’t just dim, as he’d originally assumed. Anyone could be stupid, but they wouldn’t laugh at a moment like this. Maybe she was insane. He’d have a difficult, if interesting time dealing with her should she be crazy. After all, the insane rarely cared if they lived or died, meaning they could do virtually anything. Or she could be high. That didn’t seem to be reaching too far into fiction, as she looked the type to do drugs. Eh, he was extrapolating. There didn’t need to be a reason why she was challenging him. Cut it down to the facts. She was a werewolf. He was a Vampire. She seemed to want a fight. He was more than willing to give it to her. That was all that mattered, nothing else. Their affiliations or particular psychical conditions hardly seemed to matter anymore. Should she decide to attack him, which he was reasonably sure she would, he’d plant a silver plug in her forehead and call it a day. Until then though, he’d wait patiently for her to make her move. He never made the first attack. Professional courtesy, you could say.

    The words that followed her laughter created the slight wrinkle of a frown across Gabriel’s brow. What a dull comment. Or maybe he got that impression simply because he disliked her. Should she decide to prove some theory she had or metaphysics, he’d probably call it bollocks just because the words had originated in her hateful mind. “Yes, love,” he said, using the term ‘love’ out of habit rather than actual endearment, “But the fact that the brain cells were once there puts me head and shoulders above the likes of you.” By this time he’d already figured that arguing with her was pointless. If she wanted to sit around and trade tasteless one-liners all night, he was certainly game for that. He was sure he had enough wits to outtalk her. Again, before he could stop it, the inevitable question rose in his mind. Why in Hell did she want to fight him? Was it some rite of passage among the werewolves for them to pick a fight with the superior species? For all he knew, it could be. He never really took the time the check in on them, really, so it was understandable that he was a bit behind on the times. Or maybe she was just some miserable person who was looking to go out with a bang. Either way, he wouldn’t be accommodating her. Not because he didn’t want the fight, no. If she attacked him, he’d attack right back. But he didn’t like the idea of pleasing her, even if it meant killing her.

    The girl’s following actions certified that she was loony. She raised her hand to her lips, in a seemingly nonchalant manner, and bit down on her fingers. Gabriel couldn’t see the blood, as her hand was bent in such a manner, but he smelled it. Oh God did he smell it. Suddenly the aroma of her blood was all he could think of. His breath left his lungs with a faint hissing sound and his eyes flickered from her face to her hand. Why, why did she have to do that? Biting herself had thrown him off balance, sending a rush of primal arousal coursing through his veins. “Do you know,” he said, regaining some semblance of composure, “What happens when a Vampire bites a werewolf?” The question seemed irrelevant at the present time, but considering the urges he was experiencing right then, the question was entirely appropriate. Without waiting for a reply, he continued. “The two viruses cannot coexist. So they began to eat each other. And you die. From the inside out.” He paused in his diatribe to look at her meaningfully, his gaze traversing down the curve of her neck to her fingers. “If I wanted to…” he said, allowing the sentence to hang suspended, longing laced through his words. He had just eaten, but the scent of blood went directly to his head, filling him with his natural craving. Why had she done this?

    Gabriel managed to pull himself together and his eyes once more returned to hers, though he still considered her blood in the back of his mind. He shrugged, his expression blank. “You can hardly blame dogs for wanting to fuck each other,” he said, his scathing tone returning. He wondered why she hadn’t been reacting thus far. He, and any other like him, would have killed someone for talking to them that way. He expected an attempt from her at least. When she spoke again, Gabriel couldn’t help but to allow the ghost of a smile to cross his face. Amusing. Maybe she was good for something. “Yes, but I couldn’t find any sheep tonight, unfortunately.” Sheep? Why had she picked sheep of all creatures? Unusual… “And I’m not a soldier,” she said. He hated the word ‘soldier’ with a visceral passion. He didn’t go on missions like they did, and he certainly wasn’t at anyone’s beck and call. He only protected Kella because a leader was in the best interests of the coven. If she died, they’d all fall apart. And he would not allow that.

Danica Jade Caprice - July 22, 2007 03:01 AM (GMT)
    The night had its affects on her sometimes, rather dealing with the wolf inside, some sort of human thing, or if this forest held spirits that not even highly intellectual creatures such as they could figure out. Yes, she was giving him the upper hand because to make it as far as he had, he couldn’t have been brainless, no matter how badly she would have loved to call him several names under the sun. Not worth it. She might have belonged to the pack that ripped apart humans for their meat, but it didn’t mean that the beliefs of everything else were the same. Just because she craved the lively fresh to crawl down her esophagus didn’t mean she had to be a filthy mongrel, so to speak, about the ordeal. The air of the night seemed to form into large bony hands that moved around her torso, closing together tightly. Whatever happened when she entered this forest caused Danica to lose her breath and push excruciating pain through her ribs. It should have been a pain she was used to. When one hurt themselves voluntary and could transform a human body into that of a wolf, pain became something a brain recognized, but could also become immune. This was several kinds of messed up that she didn’t bother looking into. It lasted for a few seconds of a tense body before everything loosened up.

    Did it upset him at all that she was not taking his insults to heart, at least at that present moment in time? Was it difficult for him to understand why she only returned one-liners instead of trying to take him down? Truth be told, she would love nothing more than to tackle him, push a gun to his temple, and pull the trigger. It wouldn’t do any damage at all, but it sound a lot like fun, a form of entertainment she couldn’t acquire often. ”Heads and shoulders, eh?” She shook her own pink haired head in disgust with herself – only one thing came to mind. If these witty remarks were going to continue, even though he would win the competition, she’d have to think quicker on her feet. ”Yeah, the only thing I can think of is the shampoo.” It was a whacked out thing to say, but if he hadn’t noticed by now, this werewolf was loony, crazy, all sixes and sevens, and so on and so forth. Up till now many just took her lunacy to be stupidity. No, it was not. It was pretty much a ploy really. Let them think that she was a few sixes away from the devil; it gave her the upper hand because while they were pushing them out of her mind as somebody that couldn’t accomplish much of anything, she sunk a round from her gun into their back. The under estimated her all the time, but it didn’t bug her – just one more thing to add to the list.

    Drinking up the blood that had come from injury, her head perked up as those ember orbs took interest in the strange vampires action. Her blood had made him intrigued, hungry. That moment of distraction gave away to the fact that even this gun-toting bad ass held a weakness. Blood: the thing his kind craved and seemed to do anything for. Doing this to herself was better than cutting. He was probably confused, once the red-hunger left his mind. Why would she do this to herself? He seemed focused on the crimson dinner that trickled down her fingers. With a flick of the hand, the droplets fell to some leaves. The hiss! That had been worth all of this! That had pleased Danica more then he knew, but the grin on her face probably gave it away. Would it upset him that he had done this? Tilting her hand, listening carefully to what he said, the rogue leaned forward a little and said. ”Bring it on. Sounds like a painfully relaxing experience.” It would be a helluva way to go. Would he do it? Possibly. Just the sound of being destroyed inside out sounded thrilling and fascinating. It sent adrenaline through her.

    There was a question she had been dying to ask him – how bats mated – but decided better of it. Blood drying on her fingers, the girl stuck her hands into the pocket of her skirt to pull out a cigarette, put it to her lips, and lit it with the lighter that had been partnered with the pack. Usually those two things would have been in a purse or clutch, but not tonight, no extra baggage for hunting. ”Painful experience really – rabies, fleas, ticks, pine needles in places they shouldn’t be. Not pretty. But I don’t need to tell you that now do I?” This retort was accompanied by a wink. Taking a drag from the cigarette, the blood staining the white stick, ember flames fall from the tip. Breathing out through a thin part in her lips, smoke curled upward. Why had Dani said sheep? The tale of the sheep and wolf where the wolf hid in sheepskin in order to kill a sheep for food had always been on her mind. It didn’t matter it didn’t make sense to him, but it did just well for her. ”Somebody’s a bit testy when it comes to saving their clan,” she said all warm and bubbly. Did somebody get moody when the leader told him what to do, no matter how meaningless? Weaknesses, weaknesses – he had them, but not as many as she.

Nefas Leonardo Altima - July 23, 2007 10:14 PM (GMT)
The cool breeze and odd smells that now filled the forest had managed to draw out one who might not want to feed or kill. Nefas had been slipping through the trees, silently, identifying the players on this wooded stage. He was just very intrested in the other inhabitants of this odd place some might call it nosey. The first few had been nothing but boring and stupid not much to his liking, of the hairy variety. He had almost passed up this place, smelling the odd blood of a shewolf and the sight of one of those "blood junkies" he hated so much.

He stood atop the trunk of the tree, his eyes wide, his hood up. A little odd place to observe but he did not need ot be seen just yet.. He held his blade in his hand, the V like bend back at the front of the blade shone slightly, though he hoped the two would not notice. He did not like death, he did not like "blood junkies" and he on any other day could not stand the smell of a wolf. He knelt along a pair of branches, one arm braced against the trunk.

He narrowed his eyes and eyed the first, a vampire that some may call stereo typical. Blood thirsty and ready to kill, his eyes lit with the hunger for blood. This was going to be something if it went down, only because of something about the other vampire, a familiarity or some kind of uncanny connection.

The other, a shewolf. Her appearance intrigued him, that of some urban child which would be very out of place. Though most of them didn't ask to be what they are it just kinda is. She had an odd presence to her, of a deranged, possibly mad beast in the shell of a young girl. Was it the moon or was that just her, he would probably never know. Well unless he decided to intervene, but not just yet.

This was going to be brutal, one way or another someone was going to die, or at least get hurt. The way the vampires eyes shone in the dark and the look upon the shewolfs face. This was a chance to rip another of the foes from the field of play, or the latter which he would probably end up with, saving the throat of another. He wasn't a traitor he just didn't like to see someone die. The damage done to their families, the fury that would rise in their friends.

He gripped the blade in his hand tight, if worst came to worse he was going to send one of them back to their leaders with a tall tale. He technically wasn't even supposed to leave, the elders of his coven seemed to over protect him because of what happened to his parents. He hoped that this would not be a mistake he would be unable to regret.

Gabriel Michael Holland - July 30, 2007 09:26 PM (GMT)
    Gabriel looked at the girl with bewilderment as she mentioned something about shampoo. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. How she'd gotten shampoo from his comment was beside him, but he didn't have the patience nor the interest to pursue the matter. Most of what she'd said had been left field, so he could hardly be surprised. She seemed to take pleasure in saying senseless things. While the comments themselves didn't irritate him, it did give him a sense of frustration when she didn't return any of his jabs. Considering the fact that she seemed to be toying with him, Gabriel considered attacking her right off. That'd certainly shut her up. But that would take more time than he was willing to offer, and he hardly felt like explaining to Kella why he was covered in blood. Her blood nonetheless, but still a right sight to behold. But, while he wasn't going to take a flying leap at her any time soon, he wasn't going to let his guard down. While her words were lunacy, he saw a spark of cunning behind her hateful eyes. He'd have to be supremely stupid to disregard that.

    Supressing a moan of longing, Gabriel watched her drink her own blood, his expression nonchalant. He'd never really seen the fascination with one's own blood; he never drank his own. There was something far too personal about it, and vaguely pathetic at that. Why drink his own blood when there was a whole world out there full of someone else's. When the girl uttered her next bit of insanity, Gabriel heaved a sigh and quirked an eyebrow. "Right," he said exasperatedly, twisting a ring on his finger. Dracula would invade town in a wheelbarrow before he got close enough to let her crush his ribcage. It would have very little effect, but it would still hurt like hell. No, he wasn't going to bite her. Besides, whenever he thought of biting a werewolf, all he could think of was a mouthful of hair, and that was enough to put anyone off their appetite."If you really want to die that much though, love, I'm sure we could work something out," he told her, suggestively sticking his hand underneath the back of his suit coat where his gun rested. He wouldn't bite her, but shooting her would be the next best thing.

    She started to speak again, but Gabriel wasn't paying attention. Something else had caught his interest. Cocking his head, Gabriel picked up the sound and scent of another. The other, a Vampire by the smell of it, was moving in near silence. But Gabriel could hear him all the same. He didn't smell familiar, and Gabriel never forgot a smell. That could only mean one thing. This Vampire was either rogue or Sanguinaire, both of which were hateful to Gabriel. Subconsciously baring his fangs, he felt the Vampire arrive. Maybe he'd followed the trail from the body of the girl, or maybe he'd smelled them and decided to investigate. Either way, it was stupid. A shewolf and antoerh Vampire were hardly company. He must be looking for a little tiff before he went off and ate whatever animal the Sanguinaires ate.

    Disregarding the girl completely, Gabriel turned his head to look into the trees, his expression passive. He didn't signify that he knew the other was there, though his look was blatant. If he decided he was stupid enough to attack, Gabriel was ready. Taking on a rival Vampire and a shewolf at the same time sounded harrowing, but he wasn't afraid. It had been two centuries since the last time he'd felt fear. Looking back at the wolf, his eyes conveyed nothing, but he had the faint smile of someone who saw something coming. If the girl could track him that far, he was sure that she'd be able to smell the other. If she was worth her weight in salt, she would be at least.




Hosted for free by InvisionFree