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Post by glamorousgnome on Apr 26, 2008 22:19:38 GMT -8
But here Fausto interjected. Sliding himself delicately into the booth, he shook his head. "Wrong. WRONG. Vampires are not just as bad. We're a civilized people. We groom ourselves in ways other than biting the fleas off our backs. I own a comb. A nice suit for the days when I travel. I shower as opposed to licking between paws. If that way doesn't separate us enough, then let me continue. I said I spoke to a cobbler in Sevilla. Cobbler, as in a shoemaker, as in a very honest vampire who works for a living. You don't see many werewolves out there seeking their own fortune in trades. They live off of petty pocket picking. My kind does tend to take what's not earned here and there, but never to live off of. That would be despicable. I see a vampire as being closely related to a human. Just sitting above him, elevated because those we model ourselves after are still are livelihood in terms of prey.
We take only what is owed to us, at least that is how Shawn and I were raised, and how I believe the majority of us still raise our generations to come.
Werewolves are not taught moderation, or such things as mercy."
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Post by The Wolfman on Apr 27, 2008 18:16:14 GMT -8
Lucian was so caught up in his vision of what happened those many years ago he had lost his prey something that he didnt do quite often, but now he had a allie in his mist a brand new werewolf. Lucian gave out a long holw and let the other less trained werewolf know that he was there as lucian cralwed down the wall he greated his new companion he was a beautiful creature long black hair over her body and silver eyes the color of the brightes full moon, as Lucian was looking over him as he decided that he would make the change and help "teach" the new youngling how to hunt even thought it was already in his blood.
As the two werewolfs walked down the flithy alley that was stained with vampire blood from a fresh kill, they followed the scent of the human for his scent was much better then that of the dead rotting vampire scent. to a werewolf they could smell out a vampire from miles away because of there hightened senses they actully smell the dead flesh of the vampire. The new werewolf was too quick to get a kill in and and was not listening to the warning holws coming from lucian, Lucian was thinking to himself “this man is going to get him self killed if he keeps this up” Finaly lucian holwed and the new werewolf stopped, as they stopped infont of the bar that the human and the two vampires were in, Lucian trabnsfromed back to human form and walked into the bar and took a seat in the front and angled himself so he could see the human and the two vampires, he layed down his money for a pint of beer and slowly drank it while listneing to the 3 men talk about what they had on there hand Lucian hear the howl of the male werewolf out sidesuddenly the new werewolf broke through the window and jumped at the bar tender’s neck ripping his head off and tearing open his chest with his claws of shape steel.
as the werewolf entered the room lucian left leaveing a note.
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Post by theliontamer♥ on Apr 27, 2008 20:15:27 GMT -8
A hiss of smoke curled its way upward, an overpowering smell filling the smoggy air, already stifled with the scent of the kitchen, of roasting chicken and melting cheeses. A pair of black eyes, cushioned by long, dark eyelashes, watched as the gray curl disbanded and faded into nothingness. All the while a low, impassioned male voice cooed at her, telling stories and trying vainly to impress upon her attention. And all the while her eyes watched the flame of the candle, and when she leaned over the table seductively and blew it out she watched the smoke curl and dance. He never stopped speaking, and she always responded to his every whim. Slowly, the time ticked by and the smoke was gone completely. Finally, she trained her eyes on the man before her, taking in his uncharming normalcy. She supposed his think spanish accent was charming, and perhaps the way his watery brown eyes traced continually up and down her form was flattering, but the oil slick that was supposed to be his hair was slightly revolting and the doe-eyed female silently cursed her companion for the choice. "Eres divina," he cooed to her, and she batted her eyelashes to appease him. He sighed then, reaching across the table and nudging a single rose that she had previously refused to acknowledge. This time, now growing weary of her game and of her own hunger, she took the rose delicately between her dark fingers and twirled it slightly, bringing it up to her rose colored lips in a manner that she knew was alluring. Just as she expected, his eyes never left the twirling petals. She cared little for Spanish and littler for the men that spoke it, though business had led her here and she had little choice but to obey. "Shall we....get out of here?" she replied, batting her thick eyelashes once more, her voice heavy with the traces of a forgotten language. Still, he understood enough to jump eagerly to his feet, reaching out a darkened, calloused hand to her. Naturally, she refused it, her dark eyes shadowy, her rosy lips pulled together in a pout. "You would like to join me tonight?" she proposed, less of a question than a command. She knew he would easily obey. Again his eyes trailed down her form, wrapped by a feathered gown in a dull red color that outshone her paled olive complexion. "Oh, yes, Senora," he mumbled, his head tipped, as though he could quite grasp the honor bestowed upon him. And she felt that he should indeed be honored, for her attention was difficult to capture and oftentimes very short-lived. No man could keep it for very long, and only one had truly ever held it in the first place. She had no idea as to her sister's desire to string this one along, nor the option to refuse her. Kill him. The voice had floated through her mind and the speaker was naught more than a draught of air that caught them as they left the dimly lit building. Her excitement grew and a smile played upon her flawless lips. He reached for her as they passed a narrow alleyway, mumbling that he would protect her from the evil spirits of the night. Her laughter floated past his ears, musical and highly amused. He looked to her with puzzlement, but she had drawn him closer, knowing that her home lay nearby, and her hunger was becoming unbearable.
"Kanika," a velvet voice breathed, soft as hers and just as deadly. The black eyed female rose to her feet, a shadowed figure flung acorss the bed, unmoving. "Yes, my sister?" She swept a long veil of black hair from her face. Perfectly straight, her coarse strands fell nearly to the small of her back, smooth and unrippled, deep as her ever-staring eyes. Her companion, veiled in darkness, watched as Kanika drew away from the unmoving body and stepped towards her. "You have done well. I should like you to become a part of my coven. Under my leadership, your skills will only flourish." Kanika paused, dropping to her knees as though in prayer. "My sister, I thank you. However, you must know by now that I take orders from no other," she spoke quickly across the room in less than a moment. Her companion, relaxed, had not noticed her betrayal until it was too late. The back of her head slammed into the wall, Kanika's slender fingers wrapped tightly around her much paler neck. "If you desire to live, you will follow me. You know naught, as I have demonstrated tonight. You knew from the moment we met that I would become leader. You are no more than a servant to me. And you shall do my bidding, Theoris." The younger vampire fell to the floor, released from Kanika's unyielding grasp, and nodded. "That is why I sought you," she replied obediently. "I am yours to teach." "And I shall teach you, my sister."
The pale red gown gone from her sight, the unforgiving woman stood before a long mirror, surveying her own dark looks and perfect features. She had not grown a moment older for over five centuries; the bargain was kept. Still, her nearly black eyes swam with a sorrow, undetectable to those who did not know to seek, shoved far back into the unending depths. Her neck stretched, curving perfectly to meet her shoulder, her chin strong and dramatic. She was breath-taking, she was, as the dead man had mumbled in awe, divine. She was a woman, and a perfectly crafted one. The ideal predator. The air hung heavy with death, death of immortaily and mortality alike. Once before she had seen such bloodshed, and once before she had known such useless terrors. A wolf howled in the alleyway down below, and she knew bloodshed was soon to follow. From the dimly lit second floor room she could see the glisten of silver and black fur stealthily slipping down the alley. The war would continue. And she would merely observe. Just as she had before; she would watch, and wait for death to overcome one side or the other. She slipped from the darkened room and down the steps, unnoticed by all, even the ever watchful Theoris, and into the street. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. The stench of rotting flesh that assaulted her senses. The stench of werewolf.
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Post by brentjoyce on Apr 27, 2008 20:41:38 GMT -8
occ: nice stacy nice character I like it already.
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Post by The Wolfman on Apr 27, 2008 21:04:43 GMT -8
OOC: you guys smell worst then us
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Post by brentjoyce on Apr 28, 2008 13:13:44 GMT -8
occ: Yo Mark you last post was a little power playish. Not to much just remember to ask other writers before you use them in you posts
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Post by The Wolfman on Apr 28, 2008 19:13:13 GMT -8
OOC: still learning ill revise that post
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Post by The Wolfman on Apr 28, 2008 19:18:52 GMT -8
OOC: ok revised it a bit
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Post by brentjoyce on Apr 28, 2008 19:45:51 GMT -8
Labienus begun to speak
“Werewolves do not just attack unprovoked.”
As if it was meant to be tragic irony a loud crash came through the window. Something or someone smashed it with such a force that it made the two Shawn and Labienus jump out of their seats.
“You forgot usually!” Shawn yelled as he stood there watching as the werewolf go for the human. It wasn’t anything for Shawn to get involved with he could care less if fatalities were to come upon the human population. All he cared about was his fellow brethrens. He looked at the fowl beast with bias eyes. Cursing the existence of such beasts, the fiends that end his beautiful Melfina’s life. He crossed his arms and looked at Labienus who had the look of a cold murderer on his face.
Every muscle in Labienus’ body tensed up at that very moment. He reached for his hand gun in his over coat and pulled it out with his right hand while pushing Shawn out of the way with the left. His index finger stood right over the trigger and begun to shake terribly. He squeezed the trigger with so much force that by the second shot his hand was already numb. He eyes were dead on the head of the werewolf as he unleashed a volley of hot lead at the backside of the monster. His lips were curled in to a cruel tormented expression of awe. When he ran out of ammo he immediately reloaded and begun to fire his next clip.
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Post by The Wolfman on Apr 28, 2008 21:29:44 GMT -8
As Lucian was travleing though the back alley of the bar, he had to stop for a minute because there was the smell of fresh blood and a old lovly scent that he rembered from the old days of his adolecents as he stood there in belilderment only one name came to his mind.
"Kanika" and as he thought of this name he let out a long howl.
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Post by theliontamer♥ on May 1, 2008 14:52:53 GMT -8
Legend whispered her name, the alleyway brightened by unkempt lights hung high above her head. Her pale skin echoed the yellow of the light, her eyes deep black, rimmed with the satisfaction of crimson. The skirts made no sound, hovering just above the dirt covered floor, as she whisked quickly towards the main street.
She had heard the howl. She had not mistaken the sound, and it was impossible for her to improperly identify its' owner. The stench of werewolf hung heavy in the streets; the stench of supernatural lingered everywhere these days. Her skin prickled, the hot night air failing to warm her frozen skin, her features just as cold. Other vampires and the familiar werewolf? In such close company? Her years of observation could not clearly justify this conclusion. Perhaps the wolf would have her answers. Even if he didn't, she knew that he waited. And she knew that she would meet him.
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Post by brentjoyce on May 1, 2008 15:11:25 GMT -8
occ: i am waiting on Jen lol
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Post by The Wolfman on May 1, 2008 15:59:05 GMT -8
Ah Kanika, how the name brought a chill to his spine, that one smell the was so elegant and yet so deadly and the same time thats what lucian rembered women to be like in the day's of old, but now her name was a meriore memory and the scent long forgoten. As lucian made his way down the alley makeing his way past all the garbag can's the scent was getting strong and strong, could his mind be playing tricks on him!? Tis was true he hadnt slepts in a few days and was tried and weary but the blood from the pervious kill's is what kept him going and strong. Just and Lucian turned the last corner he siddenly stopped, the scent as strong as ever, Quitely Lucian snuck up on the woman who's scent it was coming from and said "hello Kanika, its been along time"
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Post by glamorousgnome on May 4, 2008 8:03:59 GMT -8
"Nice shot!"
Fausto slid out of his seat by pulling himself up with his arms and the molding of the wall. Shoving Labienus aside, he approached death on the floor, cold, motionless, with fur rippling from the breeze through the open door. He bent to his knees to examine it, four paws, massive, with brutal claws, but this one, he could tell by the eyes, was young, probably nudged into this battle by an older wolf as a distraction, or as a test-
"Shawn, I feel uneasy about this.
There is more than one."
The bartender held fistfuls of fur in his hands up in the air from when the wolf had grazed past him, and letting them float to the ground, he, with shaking limbs, asked, "There is more than one sir."
Fausto approached him lithely, graceful and animal like as he tiptoed around the body, "More than one?" he demanded of the bartender in a thick and archaic form of spanish and grasped him by the front of his shirt. "How do you know this? Have they been here before?"
"Well, senor," the bartender shrugged. "Not here.
But I've been seeing things. In the alleyways around here. Two of them walking together, just for a brief moment. My wife said I was just tired and that I took too many of my pills, but I know I saw them. Our kind's been mysteriously dying around here. They say it's the plague or something. Maybe the invention of the electric light. That it might kill us off because now it will be like sunlight all the time. But I don't think that's it. I think it's werewolves.
And this proves it.
Why just two nights ago, an old man, from the Dark Ages, mind you, was found slaughtered in his bed. They say he killed himself. I doubt it."
"Where did this happen?" Fausto asked sharply.
And the old bartender scratched his head in thought for a moment. Striding cautiously to the open door, he pointed to a house at the end of this street's row. "That one. The top apartment. What a terrible thing. Good luck to you gentlemen."
Fausto nodded his head, thanked him, and returned sulkingly to the corner, completely ignoring the carcass on the floor. "Well, you heard the man. Should we take a look at this place? See what we can dig up? I'm unnerved."
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Post by brentjoyce on May 4, 2008 9:59:50 GMT -8
Shawn stood in the corner. He made a little hand gesture when Fausto walked across to the bar tender. He didn’t care, it was a human. Shawn had resentment for humans. So many times he tried to assimilate to the world of the living and every time humans have proven to be disloyal back stabbing animals. If anything Shawn thought humans were worse than werewolves and vampires combined. He stood with his arms folded across his chest. When Labienus looked at him he could feel the piercing rage coming from his face. With a sharp low voice Labienus spoke his neck tensing up with every word.
“What were you doing Shawn, why didn’t you do anything?”
Shawn just stared at the back of Fausto as he spoke to the bar tender.
“I am sorry honey, didn’t want to get in the way.”
Labienus hated how he acted so differently when Fausto wasn’t around. Something about the way Shawn said that struck him as completely awkward. In fact this entire night Shawn has been acting strange ever since this Fausto came. It bothered him, what did Fausto know about Shawn. When Labienus thought that it occurred to him that he really didn’t know anything about Shawn, honestly the only reason he never killed Shawn was that he is full of valuable information on vampire lore. He looked at Fausto intently. He squinted this vampire made him uneasy. He didn’t know why.
Shawn turned back looking Labienus eye to eye. He made a gun gesture with his hand,
“By the way nice shooting cowboy.”
This statement was followed by a wink. Which made Labienus quiver in his head.
Fausto now seemed to be coming back to the two of them. Shawn straightened up and looked like any other vampire.
“I kind of caught what the man said. I think that this is a very strange event. Think about it, Fausto…” Shawn placed his hand under his chin in a very thoughtful way “This had to be a pup, normally werewolves don’t just run into a tavern and attack people at random, plus I don’t know if you guys notice but a man walked in and out of the bar fairly quickly during this whole little piece.”
Labineus looked at the two of him as he chambered his pistol, “I think it best we split up a group of one and two.” Labienus felt confident that Shawn could protect himself alone and that Fausto wouldn’t jump him one on one. “What about Fausto and I, Shawn I am sure you could hang on your own.” He moved over to the dead carcass on the floor “We meet up in exactly one hour.”
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Post by theliontamer♥ on May 4, 2008 11:25:01 GMT -8
"Lucian." The dark-eyed beauty did not sound surprised. She turned to find a very familiar figure approaching her. "I expected that we would meet up, at one point or another," she answered, her blood stained lips turning upwards in an unforgiving smile. "We always seem to meet like this. Shame, really. Always amidst war," she stated airily, flipping her hand slightly as she spoke. "It's been quite some time." And she had known that the stench was familiar, was different than the others. For a moment she was many years back, younger and far more nieve, yet still deadly and powerful. "Might there be a reason you decided to seek me?" she questioned. And as he drew nearer she could smell the blood of wolves, humans, and the familiar scent of vampires. He must have made quite an indent on the city by now.
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Post by The Wolfman on May 5, 2008 23:11:06 GMT -8
BIC: Kanika you know my wants by now, blood theres the humans and all the young nieve vampires out there who have been brian washed and dont know that real story. My love, My friend what has happened to us all these long years when i smelt that smell the lovley smell of blood and sweetness your sweetness i couldnt help but seek you out. "I see that life has been treating you well", Lucian said cooly. but I need to get out of here there are hunters looking for me good bye my love, because i did not get to say it all those years when the humans found us, good bye.
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Post by theliontamer♥ on May 6, 2008 22:43:50 GMT -8
The unsettling quiet of the alleyway hung heavy even after they had left; the stench of blood and death and victimized mortals haunting the most resistant souls. The creature twisted her pale, slender fingers in her dark hair, pushing it from her face effortlessly, her fingers weaving a flawless plait as they glided along. Was he aware of her presence as deeply as she his? Do he watch her from the corner of his eye and remember how her coarse, smooth hair felt in his fingers? Her expression clouded and she scowled, turning her face away from him. It was an unfair and snobby gesture, one that fit her upbringing and current appearance alike, yet she felt shamed. Her black eyes did not soften as he spoke. "I have done quite well on my own," she answered, just as coolly, her voice clearly insinuating that she was fully capable. "You failed to answer my question," she continued, only when they had left the bar and the alleyway quite some ways behind them. They now stood before a looming building, and Kanika's weary gaze turned upon it, only then realizing where the werewolf had been leading her. The twisted ivy, browned with age, clung to the dark-colored stone, winding endlessly upward, seeping in through ill-cared for windows that stood open to the world. The wind rattled, relentless, through the ivy and into the ancient place, broken only by the rusted, vertical bars that created the looming foreboding of a prison. "Are you seeking me out for a reason?" she asked, attempting to come off as indifferent but the curiosity slipped into her words.
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Post by The Wolfman on May 6, 2008 23:04:43 GMT -8
Queitly Lucain reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long broze key with rust stains on it and the sharp smell of rusty metal entered his nostrals, as he brought the key up to the big metal lock that was and just as he turned the key he looked up at Kanika's face that sofe pale skin with those bright red lips and the soft black hair, he could rember a time when he would run his fingers though it and be in heaven with her in his arm's he was at peace. As he opened the big tall dark oak colored door it swung open with a loud creek and as moonlight filled the chamber of the darkness and desolation that had been Lucians life, Kanika's eyes became fixated on the object that lay at the very end of the hall a Pipe organ, for in another time Lucian was a celibrated Organ player before the incident that left him the way he was. Lucian turned to Kanika and looked at her with his bright yellow eyes into her deep dark beautifull black eye's and said "yes i have seeked you out, but for what reason's i am unaware of" and as Lucian was saying this he walked over the his pipe orang and started to play with dark moody music filling all the chamber's you could hear the cry's from the hall's as the echo of the music almost driffted on the drafts foating down the chorridors.
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Post by Her Royal Highness on May 6, 2008 23:44:26 GMT -8
ooc: geez. i have to come up with a charrie now. I'll try to join in soon
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