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Post by Mother of Dragons on Jan 26, 2013 13:01:21 GMT -7
Van Helsing’s first thought when he saw Anne was confused: why is she helping me? I know what she is, and I know what she’s capable of. She could have torn my head off instead of that baby’s and maybe gotten praise from these monsters… but no. She and Jinx are making my head ache. Yet… I’m not sure if I can take these three and their soulless offspring alone, especially under this unnatural darkness.
Verona strode forward, fangs and claws extending, eyes blood-red and narrowed, murder clear in her vision. Even the hunter didn’t have the balls to behead one of these women’s children in front of them: they were vicious enough, and now he had one advancing by ground while another dived toward Anne. His gaze snapped up to Aleera for two seconds, whose visage was truly terrifying: elongated jaw, shrieking bloody revenge, wings beating back the blackened air with amazing speed. Thinking fast, Van Helsing aimed and threw his dagger with precision straight at Aleera. The angle of her dive made his throw arc too low, but the blade thumped home in the bride’s stomach, raining down more blood. The impact slowed the vampire down, and the hunter hoped the bought second would give Anne enough time to avoid being torn to shreds.
He turned his attention back to Verona, who was screaming in fresh agony at her sister’s injury. She flew at him, arms reaching for his unprotected face. Van Helsing said a prayer under his breath as he splashed his remaining holy water at the vampire. The liquid sprayed over Verona’s hands and arms, smoke and the smell of burning flesh forcing Van Helsing back a step. Her long, black hair smoldered as she cried miserably, blinded and stopped in her tracks by the deadly, blessed water. The hunter tucked and dived in a smooth roll past Verona, coming up next to his discarded crossbow. He picked up the weapon and spun to face the burning bride again, notched arrow ready.
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Anne dropped the vampire child’s head the second she heard Aleera’s cry. With no weapons of her own, Anne had her hands ready to fight: the adrenaline that immediately began to pump through her entire body at the idea of fighting, killing, tearing, drinking her enemy dry… but as Aleera soared straight at her face, Anne’s memory flashed back to a moment with Henry, so long ago in France. He was teaching her how to hunt, to focus her energy and cravings in a way that society would not recognize as abnormal. Sweet Henry, always buying her the latest fashions, new jewelry, high shoes to make her almost as tall as him. His hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the bright, warm, full streets, opposite arm readily available for her to hold onto. Everything had been normal enough, for what they were, for what he’d made her… and now he was gone…
Breaking her train of thought, Anne closed her eyes and spun on the spot, her voluminous skirts billowing around her an a perfect arc. She kicked up one leg, disguised under her flowing layers of dress, and her heeled boot collided with the side of Aleera’s face, sending the former vampire flying away from her. Anne finished her speedy rotation to see the bride land in a tumble of wings and an explosion of cobblestones not far from her. Get up, now, Anne thought, watching the cuts on her arms heal that she’d received from the bride’s baby a few minutes ago. Get up and try me on fair ground. I’m not scared of you.
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Jan 26, 2013 14:33:00 GMT -7
More and more vampire children swirled towards the ground, searching for something to feed upon. With the village streets empty of their inhabitants, the children focused on the creatures below them. All vampires aside from the two humans from the Vatican. The odds weren't very good, but Anya knew they could beat them. The children were new and blood thirtsty, focused only on their need to feed. That meant, they weren't calculated and precise. Yet, they were also unpredictable. As far as Anya could tell, the hunter and other vampire she could see were fairing decently and she couldn't waste much more time on them. Two, then three babies lurched towards her driving Anya's attention away from her assumed companions. With a shriek, the frosty white shot through her hair until only the tips remained ebony. Crimson, fierce eyes fixed upon the child nearest her and she launched herself forward, raking long, solid nails through the disgusting creature's body as if it were butter. She then turned, whirling on the next to attack, detaching it's head cleanly and hurling it towards it's siblings behind. This isn't good. I may have to use more power. Anya thought to herself as she crouched low to the ground, anchoring her hands upon the ground. She let out a shrill cry as two large, bat-like wings stretched from her back, extending to a wingspan of nearly nine feet. Immediately she launched herself from the ground in a flurry of beige fabric and silvery curls. Dust billowed on the ground from the sudden rush of wind from Anya's downstroke and she soared into the air like a missile into the huge cloud of vampire children. The small woman slammed into the even smaller bodies, sending most of them sputtering towards the unforgiving ground beneath. She shrieked as she dove in and out of the spiraling bodies, slamming into some, slashing through others. Bodies rained down towards the ground below as she continued her attack. "These aren't even vampires! They shouldn't exist! What a horrible twist of our natural being!" Anya shot up through the center of the fray until she was above them. She sucked in a deep breath and let out a deafening scream. A few of the children were struck by the force of it and fell head over wings, clutching at their ears. Then, chest heaving in furious anger, Anya opened her mind to the children and their horrid mothers. She focused her energy on them and sent a wave of pain from her body towards them. She knew it wouldn't be very strong, but with the elevated sensing the children should have, she hoped it would be enough. Then, a shriek from below distracted her and she looked in time to see a hideous, naked creature hurtling towards her, blonde hair in a tangled mess. "You've killed our children! You must perish, wretched monster!" Marishka screamed, her entire body exuded her unbridled rage. She slammed into Anya, grabbing and clawing at her in a fury. She shrieked and screamed with each failed strike as Anya managed to rip through one of her wings and the two began to tumble towards the ground, turing over and over in the air.
Anya was in a slight panic as she was forced onto a more defensive tactic against the chaotic slashing claws and biting teeth. She cried out feeling something dig through her shoulder and kicked out violently to dislodge the woman from her. Her wings shot out to the sides, slowing her fall as she righted herself. She saw the enraged creature beneath her and narrowed her eyes to focus on her. Anay's wings folded against her back and she shot downwards ready to kill the woman who had created an abomination of her race.
Marishka tumbled towards the ground, her torn wing not working properly as she tried to right herself. Then without warning she felt a mass hit her spine hard enough to snap it. She screamed and reached over her shoulder to catch whomever hit her clawing her own body in the process. Anya perched herself low on Marishka's back then arched her back as she reached down and bit into Marishka's neck, ripping viciously into her. Her deep crimson eyes, focused solely on stopping the creature, no matter what she had to do.
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Jan 26, 2013 17:48:07 GMT -7
Carl stood frozen in his spot through Anya’s shots of power and eventual full wing growth and bloody battle. His poor heart raced at the terror before him. He didn’t know when it happened but when he blinked and opened his eyes, he’d fallen to his knees, a hand clutching the one thing he had to keep himself safe. Luckily, for the time being, he didn’t seem to need it. Seeing as the woman he’d thought he’d been escorting and protecting was a bigger monster than the ones attacking Van Helsing! He couldn’t move, he couldn’t stand, the poor guy was paralyzed with fear. Jinx, less paralyzed with fear, continued to watch from the side lines. The poor friar looked like someone had just punched him in the face, but his friend was fending off anything that might hurt him so it didn’t look like he really needed to move. Anne was dealing with the pink woman impressively. Jinx liked to think she was smarter than Anne, but she already knew she wasn’t better. The girl had more balls than a marble maker. And then there was the hunter. Aside from the stricken expression he had on when Anne barreled out the door to, le gasp, help him was not only helping Anne but kicking the green bitch’s ass. And still the blonde stood there. So she created a glamour near him, not of sight but of sound. “And whose side are you on?”Aleera’s screams became almost unending between being stabbed in the stomach by the hunters blade and Anne’s well placed kick. She flew straight into ground, shattering the cobble stone under her and snarling as she dragged her breaking body back up. “Horrid little brat! I will burn your flesh and flay your skin!” She howled as her broken wings melted into her body and the bat like skin became silken clothes and pale flesh. Still her footsteps did not slow and she ran straight for Anne again. Before getting too near her hated target—learning from the last painful blow—she veered off to the left to pass the girl and slammed an outstretched arm against her throat.
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Jan 27, 2013 11:49:00 GMT -7
The bride that faced Van Helsing was almost as furious as her two sister, yet somehow the hunter didn’t think she was livid about the same thing: instead of attacking directly, she unfurled her wings, showing her their full length and power; with one sweep, she could blow him back with extreme force in any direction she pleased. Van Helsing kept his semi-automatic weapon aimed at her heart, not falling for the large target of her wings. He knew that no matter how many times he could pierce their thin membranes, Verona was too close to him in range that she would rip out his throat before he could dream of reloading.
“Answer me one thing, hunter!” Verona declared through the deafening of the battle. Van Helsing ignored the explosion of cobblestones not far from him where Aleera had landed in a cloud of dust. “Why are you here? This is the underground whore’s city, and the fight for it is not yours!”
Once again, the reference was one that Van Helsing did not understand. Was it some kind of secret vampire code that he and the Vatican were not aware of? And who else would Dracula and his monster brides be competing with besides himself? Either way, he had been taught not to speak to these creatures when fighting them; their words were poison, unholy spews that must be stopped and exterminated. I’ve spoken plenty with Jinx, however, and she has not harmed me at all. In fact, she is rather helpful and seems to find me more amusing than threatening. Anne I’m not sure, and Carl’s friend didn’t seem innocent at all.
“Who is harming these people?” the hunter questioned against his better judgment. “Who is this woman?”
Verona spat at him in response, buffeting him with a hot, powerful blast of air from her wings. Van Helsing stumbled back a few steps, squinting in the flurry of dust and bits of broken stone. He held down his trigger now, sending dozens of sharp, small arrows into Verona’s chest. The bride shrieked and launched herself into the air, circling above the hunter as he hastily reloaded, keeping the church at his back for some protection.
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Anne couldn’t dodge the attack, and found herself flying through the air, unable to breathe or move. Before she could blink in the darkness, Anne collided with a stone building behind her, shattering old mortar and its thatched roof with her thin body. Stunned, her throat dry and aching, Anne shook her head, raining dust from her long hair. She found herself head over heels in a caved-in section of the small, empty storehouse she’d slammed into, old, rotted beams of its ceiling across her bed of stonework. One heavy chunk of wood lay across her stomach, pinning her down, and Anne cried aloud in effort as she tried to move it: her right arm, her fighting arm, was dislocated. White-hot pain lanced through her entire body, and Anne swore in frustration when she realized she couldn’t move. Through the dissipating cloud of smoke and rubble, Aleera was approaching fast, a wide, excited grin on her sweet face. This isn’t good.
Aleera cracked and rotated her jaw back into place as she advanced, and Anne saw that no matter how well-landed her kick had been, the bride was already healed and she herself was stuck. The red-headed monster cackled happily, flinging bits of debris out of her way as she closed in, heavy bricks and stone and wood flying in every direction like weightless feathers. When she reached Anne, Aleera picked up the huge beam that lay across her and held it up her head, ready to strike it back down on her immobilized opponent.
Lestat pursed his lips when he heard the cute little female voice clear in his ear, tilting his head better to hear, just away from the battle. Ooh, it’s the pretty thing from the stables. I remember you… though I’m not fooled by the mask, mon cherie. Though, if you’d like me to show off, I can’t pass up the opportunity for some publicity.
The Brat Prince strode forward into the town’s square, leaving the cover of the old church’s arches behind him. As he walked, he hummed a soft, sad song under his breath, removing his white gloves from his long fingers and tucking them in his breast pocket. He had never seen the women and their pesky children that were attacking the town before, but the Frenchman knew who they were and what they stood for very clearly. My darling Madame Allumer would be very disappointed to hear what is happening here today. She is still upset with me, no doubt, but this will help win her favor back.
“You, madame, have been a very naughty little girl.”
Aleera spun when she heard the Frenchman’s quiet, dark voice behind her. She hissed and lashed out with the thick piece of wood in her hand, but Lestat caught it easily, grinning. He twisted his arm, tightening his grip till the bride let go, and he flicked the weapon away. Making a disappointed cluck at the back of his throat, Lestat slapped Aleera across the face hard, making the monster flying back and lose her footing.
“My Goddess will not be pleased to hear you and your filth are try to feed on folk that belong to her,” Lestat announced, darting forward to kick the downed bride in the side. He bit his lower lip happily when he felt ribs crack and splinter under his boot. Aleera screeched at him, clawing away to try and stand. Lestat decided to back off and let the bride rise in a billow of wind and screams, flying away to land on the top of the church’s spire as she healed her wounds.
Turning in a perfect half circle, curls waving in the breeze created by the bride’s wings, Lestat knelt in the rubble next to Anne, giving her a sad look. “Bonjour, darling. Would you like a hand?”
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Jan 27, 2013 12:37:59 GMT -7
The ground sped towards the two vampires locked in a death battle. Anya's mouth and lips dripped with the sickly blood from Marishka's throat as she shoved herself from the creature's back. Marishka spred out her wings in an attempt to halt her fall too late. The hard ground collided with her body sending shuddering jolts throughout. She screamed out in pained rage at her still broken back and new pains, unable to roll over from the spot. "You'll pay for this!" Marishka's voice was lodged with gurgling sounds as her throat struggled to heal around the viciously torn wounds.
Above her, Anya circled, spitting out the crimson life-force she'd taken. It didn't taste right in her mouth, almost rotten and burning. She wiped the remnants away with the back of her hand and snarled at the screaming creature beneath her. For the moment, the woman couldn't do much besides yell intelligible words. Anya shot upwards again and into the remaining fray of vampire children. Sending as many as she could reach plummeting towards the ground. She moved quickly and precisely. The more she could kill the better. The town was still in a lot of danger as well as those with her. The children seemed to be swarming in around her as she fought, distracting her from the ground far beneath.
Marishka shrieked again as the bones slowly started to heal, letting her move again. She turned her head and saw the monk several yards away. Blind with hate and rage she painfully turned onto her stomach and started crawling her way towards him. She growled word after word, none of them making sense when put together as she slowly got closer. Her naked, gray body dragging across the rough cobblestones and dirt, her claws digging craters into the ground. He looked like the easiest target and she'd seen him before, with Van Helsing and then with that hidious, wretched vampire in the sky. Yes, if she could kill him, perhaps they would feel some pain as well.
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 3, 2013 10:56:39 GMT -7
Jinx clapped her hands in Lestat’s direction, enjoying the help he’d given Anne. The pickle she’d gotten into would have had Jinx moving to help, but the stranger—even if he talked about some Goddess or whatever—had done a good job on his own. But her eyes were now on Aleera, who was licking her wounds on top of the church. Aleera flung curses at the sky. Her anger thrown at all these awful creatures: who are these people!? To her eyes they were coming out of the wood work and she nervous that more would appear. Her red eyes flicked around the battle field, trying to find the next wave of imagined monsters. While she waited her bones cracked back into position and her skin healed. It was sharp and unpleasant but she relished the sweet feeling of strong limbs with which she would tear that stupid blonde man and his little pretty friend apart! Carl’s heart felt like it was about to explode as he saw that the terrible woman his ‘friend’, Anya had been—inexplicbily and shockingly—killing was now dragging her tortured body towards him. Terror rising in him, he scrambled backwards and grabbed at the blessed cross under his robes. “Stay back you damned child of Satan!” He warned, something between rehearsed training and courage making his voice sound stronger than he felt, the cross held out in front of him for some kind of protection. When the woman didn’t seem to listen, or perhaps even hear his threats over her own rapid speech his hand dove into the bag still around his shoulder. What his hand closed around was powerful. He knew that because he’d made it himself. But he’d never ever EVER intended to use it! But with all these monsters around and his one human ally busy with his own battle…. His fist tightened around the new weapon. It had a long handle, coated--for protection-- in an odd, rubbery, shiny material with meant to be held in two hands. And an odd contraption on the end that held wires and metal and glass all configured for one purpose: to conduct. On the handle was also a sort of trigger. When pulled the trigger moved the mechanics inside the gun around for two purposes. The first was to connect the pieces inside and conduct electricity from the sky and the air around it. The second was to open a small hatch at the front of the device and direct the electricity straight out, as opposed to into the holder’s dear body. Now firmly in the poor man’s hands, Carl held the devise out towards the crawling demon with his arms straight, letting the cross bounce back onto his chest. His finger’s shook around the trigger and then pulled. From the dark sky something seemed to crack and then shoot, a bolt of lightning pulled straight from the sky to Carl’s hands and then out at the crawling form of Marishka. He heard, from behind him, a female voice let out a cry of surprise and then a woop. “Holy heaven, did you see that!?” the voice cheered.
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Feb 3, 2013 12:43:42 GMT -7
Van Helsing should have known better than to take the bait and demand answers out of the bride; after all, she was a monster, an unholy creature he was sworn to exterminate from God’s good earth. Having his faith questioned by one of these things was rattling him, and he tried his best to push doubts from his mind till the battle was over. He knew that Dracula’s women’s top priority would always be their children, and at the rate that small, grey corpses were littering the ground, he was sure the brides wouldn’t stay much longer. Glancing to the side as he reloaded, Van Helsing saw Aleera retreat for a moment as well, the Frenchman deciding for some reason that he wanted to help the young vampire. In all honesty, Van Helsing had no idea what to think of these odd monsters’ behavior; one moment they were tearing at innocent victims, the next helping him, the next saving each other…
Verona hissed down at Van Helsing, but held her airborne ground away from him, flapping left and right in case he decided to fire. She looked to Aleera as she healed, then shouted toward her: “The children are in too much danger! We cannot take this town with these traitors here! Master must know of this immediately!” Her wounds were healing as well, but the hunter’s bolts stung and knotted deep in her thick skin, each one an agonizing pain to remove and reconstruct around.
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Anne stared up at the shining blonde stranger, her jaw dropped in shock and awe at both his actions and appearance. She had never seen someone like him: some vampires hid themselves very well even if they were proud of their curse; an expert like Jinx Anne would have passed in the streets a million times and have been none the wiser. On the other hand, she had met other creatures in the past that Henry didn’t even need to point out to her: sickly looking humans that hid in shadows, crouched and flinched from the light, hissed at passersby and couldn’t function around mortals, yet… this man that stood above her, holding out a helping hand, was so… blatant, clear, that he almost shone with a warm, deadly preternatural light. The amused expression of power was clear on his face, grey eyes glinting gold, white teeth flashing despite the gloomy air. His clear, perfect fingernails had picked the huge support beam off her body like a twig, and the way he spoke to Aleera as if she were a common ail house whore was still throwing Anne for a loop. Her first thoughts were: is this man trustworthy? Why would he help a stranger, and what is all this about a Goddess? He spoke of the north, and the underground, and that means he could know where Henry is.
Instead of over-analyzing, as usual, Anne shook her head to clear it, grimacing as she felt her crushed body pop loudly back into its proper places. She extended her good arm to Lestat and with just a small flex of effort, the Frenchman had her on her feet next to him. “I…” she began, then cleared her throat and spat a mouthful of black blood on the ground next to her. A loose molar in the back of her mouth loosened when she tried to talk, and she pushed it back into place with her tongue as its roots grew back as she exhaled.
“Hush,” Lestat crooned when she didn’t speak further, and suddenly spun Anne close, her torn skirts a flurry of black and red. Smiling, the Brat Prince put a hand to her dislocated shoulder, pressed hard, and jammed the bone back into its socket. Anne’s breath caught in her mouth, and she let out a cry of pain, then swallowed the rest of it: the sudden movement hurt like hell, but for some reason this strange man holding her still made her want to not show weakness. He’d swooped in out of nowhere and stopped the damned bride from tearing her head off and shredding her to pieces.
Anne rotated her healed arm, glancing down with a frown at her dress, sighing at what was left of it. The Frenchman did the same, taking his time looking over her pale skin exposed through the battered layers of cloth. Anne stepped back out of his reach, and gave her best French courtesy.
“Thank you,” she sighed, upset at how small and high her voice sounded despite her pumping blood and adrenaline. The Frenchman waved off the words however, and Anne was amazed at how confident and condescending his attitude was.
“Not a problem, my dear,” he spoke, his tone smooth as he pushed his blonde curls out of his eyes. “That redheaded bitch has given me plenty of trouble, and I am always happy to help a beautiful young… woman.” Pausing as if he wasn’t quite finished, the vampire took Anne’s pale hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing it. She could feel his fangs press hard again her skin. “Monsieur Lestat de Lioncourt. The Brat Prince, the king of nightly pleasures, the lord of silk and lace. Though, we must finish this discussion in private later; there is vermin that needs to be taken care of.”
Anne couldn’t help but stare for a moment, taking in the vampire’s entire appearance in, her jaw dropped. She cleared her throat, shut her mouth, and gave Lestat the best smile she could manage: Aleera had shaken her up badly, made her think of how young and weak and inexperienced she really was, but now was not the time: she wanted fresh blood under her fingernails, and was eager to prove herself by killing as many of these bitches babies as she could before they decided to flee.
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 4, 2013 16:43:31 GMT -7
Anya circled around the growing piles of grey flesh and black blood. She'd moved through most of the grotesque offspring before the rest of them seemed to scatter about and flee. Some had seemed to gain a knowledge of fear, some following simply their senses of survival and hunger. She circled once more her eyes casting downwards towards the ground. Her eyes widened as she saw the mangled woman in torn yellow dragging herself towards Carl. She let out a shriek and folded her wings against her back and dove like a falcon towards the ground. The scent of filthly blood and sweat filled her nostrils, growing stronger as the dark, unforgiving ground hurtled towards her. She thought she should have killed the wretch before leaving her upon the ground so near the seemingly helpless monk.
Anya's sharp eyes watched Carl pull something from his sack and only moments later she was blinded by the horrific brightness that shot forward into Marishka. Agonized screams burned her ears as Anya lifted her wings just in time to land directly behind Carl, hitting the ground with a loud thud. She blinked rapidly clearing her vision. The weapon Carl had pulled out seemed much more dangerous than she'd originally thought and something like that could kill a lot of her kind. She stared at the remains of Marishka, the scent of burnt flesh staining the air. She sensed a startled movement in front of her and shifted her gaze just in time to catch Carl's shaking hands, jerking the weapon away from her face and and one of his untrained hands. She realized his human mind would instantly fear her, or at the very least distrust her and she had startled him. Landing directly behind him in full vampire appearance must not have helped as the man tried to free himself. "Stop! I won't harm you!" Anya yelled and kicked out her foot carefully causing the man to fall onto his back. Anya's body, in consequence, fell with him and landed on top effectively pinning him safely to the ground. She breathed harshly and jerked her head around at the remaining souls in their presence.
A few feet away from them what remained of Marishka smoldered in a pile of smoke, fabric and burnt flesh.
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 4, 2013 17:09:22 GMT -7
Carl yelped as the two fell to the ground, his weapon still clutched in his hand but pointed uselessly away. He felt the cross, usually tucked away under his robes, still heavy on his chest. Its weight gave him some comfort as if it was a shield between the vile creature pinning him to the ground. This thought gave him another little burst of courage, although not as much as his powerful weapon had. “Get off me, demon!” He yelled in her face, using up that courage he had by looking her in the eye. “I… I…” and no more words made it out. Above the vampire and her terrified ‘friend’ came a blood curdling, hair straightening, black cat back arching scream. “MARISHKA!” Aleera’s shriek just barely formed the syllables, come out more as a sick animals roar than language. Her wounds were not finished healing and her bones were still snapping painfully in place but the passionate pink lady dove off the church despite her weakness directly at Anya’s back. Her taloned claws, passing for hands, ripped at the woman’s back while she soared over the powerful vampire, the monk, and her fallen sister. She wanted to cleave bone as well as flesh away from the woman blocking her from her target. She swept her aching wings out to their full wing span to swoop back into the sky after her nails scraped what they could from Anya. “You will pay for that you filthy, gutless, human!” she spat at Carl, circling above. “I will make you suffer and you will beg Satan himself before I am through!” she rose higher in the air, searching for her other sister and whatever was left of their babies. Even in her blinding rage she knew they had to leave or they would follow their beloved sibling into that blinding light or the hunter’s guns or one of these others’, hands on attack.
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 4, 2013 17:30:06 GMT -7
Anya's crimson eyes seemed to melt into blue as a look of hurt crossed her face at Carl's words. She hadn't expected him to react in quite that way, but deep inside she knew why he had. She must look like a demon from hell to the Christian. Fiery eyes and white hair hanging haphazardly ontop of large, bat-like wings. She moved to get off him when she heard the piercing shriek above them. Instead of turning her back to Carl, she hunched down closer to him, her face inches from his. Despite what he thought of her, she was going to try and protect him from the vengeful bride. She cried out, her eyes slamming shut as her pale flesh was torn in long jagged lines along her back. She tensed, holding as firmly to the ground as she could, despite her small size. She breathed heavily, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry...please forgive me." Anya whispered as her wings shot out. She gripped Carl's shoulders tightly and flipped him onto his stomach as both rose into the air with one powerful downstroke. She could feel the fiery pain in her back as the wounds bled down her shredded shirt and skirt, staining even her hair. She held onto Carl as carefully as she could without dropping him and flew towards the nearest shelter she could find, the stable several yards away. Both bodies landed in the carefully piled straw and hay reserved for the animals' feed. She released Carl and moved away from him quickly. She stood up straight, her body silhouetted in the doorway as her wings folded and eventually disappeared back into her body, completely unseen. She swallowed, her chest moving up and down as she focused on healing her back. Her icy blue eyes focused on the brown robes that seemed to try and unbury themselves from the hay.
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