dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 8, 2012 20:48:24 GMT -7
Anya stared into her cup, watching the reflections in the glass. She could feel the eyes of the two young men on her and narrowed her eyes a little in concentration, careful to not allow them to see. It intrigued her that they'd have noticed her so quickly. She wasn't certain if they knew who she was, or rather, what she was. But she noticed that they seemed bothered. She let out an audible sigh, sensing a brave soul moving up behind her.
Anya turned her head to the side, her ebony curls tossed over her shoulder, now fell slightly in front of her face as the man leaned his elbow on the bar beside her. He gave her a quick compliment, earning him a shy giggle. This one at least seems decent compared to many of the others in this bar. He seems a bit taken as well. That should serve to my advantage. Though...I'd still like to see if those two teens over there, are really vampires. I wonder how to lure them out as well? Anya turned a shy smile on the man standing beside her. He'd offered her a drink of alcohol but she refused. She never liked the taste much, especially when it mixed with blood. Though every now and then she fancied a bit of blood in a red wine.
The man smiled at her, almost hungrily, and reached his hand out to rest it on her leg fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. Anya's breath caught a little, though she was quick to recover it and swiftly moved the man's hand away. She'd not had the best experiences with some men and the touch reminded her of one in particular. One who was now dead, but even so, the memory was one she'd rather not remember. Anya stood, catching the taller vampires eye quickly then flicked hers back towards the man and gestured with one, perfectly manicured finger for him to follow. She spun once and started to move away, her skirts taking a few moments to settle back around her. The man turned and gave his buddies an 'alright!' look, and started to follow her.
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Feb 9, 2012 12:55:14 GMT -7
Van Helsing had to hold back a bitter laugh; his “job” was something that he never talked about, to anyone. He didn’t have any family, let alone friends or coworkers he could speak with. Nor did he really trust anyone, but he was curious about this girl. Of course, it was easy to tell the truth but be vague about it when it came to his duty in life.
“They’ve broken the laws of God and cannot be forgiven,” he answered smoothly. “In fact… I don’t even know the exact details yet.” Van Helsing reached into his trench coat and pulled out the sealed letter he hadn’t bothered to open yet. He shot Maria a look before breaking the seal and unfolding the paper. He read it quickly through once, then skimmed it again a second time.
A father in a village three miles east of here infected his brother, wife, and son with the werewolf virus. The orders are to take out all those involved and any other witnesses that could possibly been bitten. The man responsible was a lumber farmer, in his mid-thirties, and is considered a low-level monster. With the number infected including the man’s brother, wife, and son, this mission should be taken with caution and discretion.
Van Helsing glanced over at Maria, assuming that the wife and child would probably shake her up, but… if she is one of these people I’m supposed to find and work with, she should be able to understand things like this, right?
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Lestat gave Astrid the best French bow he could manage while sitting on the sofa, refilling his wine glass again in the same fluid movement. I didn’t expect anything less from a feisty, stubborn girl like her. I wonder, now that the sun’s down, if I can show her a few tricks?
“Of course, mon petit,” he replied, flashing a smile. “And, with the sun obliging our plans perfectly, it’s dark enough for us to go out and have some fun.” The Brat Prince stood and placed the win glass in Astrid’s hands, folding her fingers around it. He walked over to the long, rectangular mirror on the far wall and straightened his collar, twisting a lock of hair around his finger before letting it bounce off in a wavy curl.
“And don’t be too anxious,” he added, running his tongue along his fangs in his reflection. “Everyone’s a little nervous before their… first time with me.”
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Anne broke the metal bonds around her wrists in three seconds; the air was already starting to chill, and the open blisters on her face began to heal at a much more rapid rate. When he captor made to shove the holy water cloth toward her throat, she darted her right hand forward and caught his wrist, twisting it till he let out a low cry and dropped the cloth.
“Don’t ever say his name again,” she hissed, bearing her fangs and, bracing herself for the nasty sound, bent the man’s wrist even further till it cracked and snapped at the joint. As he howled in pain, Anne kicked her captor in the gut with her heeled boot, shoving him away from her several feet. She took the second of reprieve to rub at her raw hands and stretch her arms. Walking over to where the man was kneeling on the ground, Anne gave him another swift kick to the side of his head, sending him down to the forest floor completely. Blood began to spurt from the wound her heel had torn open on his temple, but, for some reason, the smell of the liquid did not call to her at all; in fact, it repelled her, giving off a sickening scent that made her want to cover her nose and mouth.
“What are you? Who sent you?” Anne demanded, keeping a safe distance from the man’s reach in case he decided to lash out at her.
“Stupid bitch,” the man snarled. “You’re lucky the moon isn’t full.”
Anne didn’t fall for the trick and glance up at the sky; she knew better than to take her eyes off her captor. On top of that, the man’s words struck new fear into her: if his last statement meant anything… a werewolf? I’ve never fought one before; Henry always told me they lived far up north here, away from England and Italy and France, avoiding contact with as many humans as possible. But… if he’s this big in his human form, there’s no way I can take him if he could transform on my own. Is he part of a cult or something, that has a vendetta against vampires? No, it has to be more personal than that if he knows our names.
It was clear to Anne that he wasn’t going to answer any of her questions, but… could she kill him? Did she have the courage and the sheer strength, vampire or not, to murder this man in front of her? Despite all she’d been through, she didn’t even know.
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 9, 2012 19:43:27 GMT -7
Jinx raised an eyebrow. Her anger had smoldered underneath her thoughts but as he explained, annoyingly and vaguely, why he was willing to kill someone her rage flared briefly back up.
“You don’t know the details yet…?” she drawled, feeling that urge to tear his pretty eyes right out of his head at the pure aggravation contained in that little statement. “That’s a little… sheep-like, isn’t it? Just following what the guy in the big hat says?” Jinx wondered how close to home she was hitting, or if he cared at all.
After he’d read his important looking piece of paper she slipped an arm under his and nodded to the door. “Shall we?” Her skin, to the hunter, felt warm and alive and young. Knowing this made a smile light up her lips. What a lot of lies taking someone’s arm could be!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Carl glanced up from his book as he noticed the pretty lady and equally pretty men (was a monk allowed to call men pretty? He didn’t know. But it was the right word for them) seemed to take most of the attention of the room. He frowned. People didn’t usually come that lovely, much less so many, much less in ugly little towns like this. Glacing at his book he shuddered at the thought of them being less than human creatures. In his sudden panic he knocked his knife off the table and cut his arm on it. Just a little cut but enough to make the religious man pray quickly to god for better words to swear with. “Ow!” he yelped, instead of the curses he wanted to proclaim, and held a hand to the leaking slice.
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Post by Armored Soul on Feb 10, 2012 18:22:35 GMT -7
Astrid listened to Lestat but her eyes were fully focused on the glass in her hands. She couldn’t make herself put it down. How could she say no to blood when it was right in her hands, staring her in the face? But Lestat had assured her that this blood didn’t come from murder, and she’d already believed him on that, so there was really no reason not to empty the glass. It still felt wrong; it always would, she was sure of that, but she couldn’t starver herself either. Not until Edmond was a pile of smoldering ashes at her feet.
“I’m not nervous,” She denied stubbornly. With that, she drained the glass and stood. Of course she was nervous. There wasn’t a good enough reason not to be. He was suggesting they do the exact thing she tried for years not to do: go out and voluntarily kill a person. But this was the start of trusting him. That was something she wanted to do even if it would be hard. Just because his arrogance and attitude reminded her of Edmond, didn’t make him the same as Edmond. He could be different. “Let’s get this over with.”
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Kain’s eyes narrowed watching the woman he now assumed to be a vampire. He gripped Aidou’s hand after placing his brandy on the counter and taking Aidou’s away as well. He wanted to find out what this vampire wanted and why she seemed to be toying with them. He didn’t miss the apprehension pouring off his cousin; but if he got him to agree to follow the vampire, he would keep Aidou safe.
“What is it?” Aidou looked down to Kain’s grip on his hand. His nerves were on edge and Kain’s tight hold wasn’t helping. Aidou practically never saw Kain tense; nothing fazed him. He was always strong and composed. Aidou was the one who freely showed his emotions, the immature one, the hothead. To see Kain uptight made Aidou want to leave the inn right away and go to some Greek island for fifty year or so.
“Let’s follow her,” Kain replied flatly. As usual, he didn’t show much emotion in his voice or show how Aidou’s emotions were affecting him. He could calm Aidou with his control over emotions, but he’d never controlled Aidou before and he wouldn’t start now. If he was lucky, this vampire they were following wouldn’t be too old and he could make her feel afraid enough to keep away from them. She was ruining Aidou’s happiness; that didn’t sit well with Kain.
“Why? Can’t we just leave her alone?” Aidou was pulled to his feet by Kain, their eyes locked together.
“You don’t have to be afraid. You can defend yourself, and I won’t let you get hurt.” Kain accepted Aidou’s smile and nod but knew the blonde was not happy about this. He squeezed Aidou’s hand and led the way after the vampire.
All I wanted was another pretty girl to share with Akatsuki. Aidou couldn’t really explain the uneasiness he felt from the woman. She reminded him of some of the old nobles he’d interacted with but there was something more to her. He didn’t realize he was creating layer of ice locking his hand with Kain’s until the taller vampire pulled his hand away melted the ice with a quick burst of heat. “Sorry.” He apologized quietly.
The two were nearly across the large room when Aidou tugged Kain to a stop, a wicked smile curving his lips upward. The question was silent and Kain nodded his answer. He did smell the blood that Aidou did, but he kept his hold on Aidou’s hand firm as if to give him a standing ‘no.’ Aidou pulled on his hand again, trying to get it away from Kain’s, insisting that he get his way.
“Alright, fine. You want to do this? You go play and I’ll follow that woman.” Kain released Aidou’s hand. “We meet back in the room in an hour. One hour. Got that?”
Aidou’s smile faded. He didn’t want them separated. He wanted Kain with him, to forget about the intimidating woman and just have a bloody night with him. But Kain was steadfast in his decision, and Aidou couldn’t change it now. He nodded once again, relenting to Kain’s plan, and watched as his cousin left. Within seconds, the smile was back in place and the blonde was elegantly crossing the bar.
“This might help,” Aidou smiled warmly at the monk and held out a pale blue kerchief that came from his pocket. “Are you alright?”[/size]
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 10, 2012 22:20:29 GMT -7
Anya flicked her eyes towards the scent of blood that suddenly hit the air. Though the humans would never know it was there, unless they saw the crimson stain forming on the man's arm. A monk from the great church itself. I wonder what his purpose is for being here? Anya thought to herself. She'd heard and even seen the many writings of the church. Some were quite harsh against her people and she hated it. But she could never bring herself the hate the humans. There were a race of their own. They wanted to live and feel safe just as she did. It was the natural order of life. Just because vampires had abilities far superior, did not make them any more important.
The man behind her moved close, pressing his hand against her lower back. The warmth of his hand against her drew her attention away from the humble monk. She smiled shyly, giggled even and continued walking out. She was very aware of the vampire following them and smiled to herself. It seems he's interested enough to find out more. Though I wonder what the conversation between the two entailed. The smaller of them seems almost frightened. Perhaps they can sense my Pure Blood? And if that's the case, what are their views on that fact? Pure Bloods are rare, and growing more so as the years pass. Anya stepped out into the darkened street and looked about. There were a few people still out on the street traveling to or from various destinations. She turned her head as the man's hand slid down her arm and took her hand attempting to guide her the opposite direction. She stood her ground, and shook her head. She pointed towards the woods and offered the man an adventurous smile. "I'd much rather explore the dark forest. It seems thrilling." Anya bit her lip and giggled once again. The man seemed the like the idea of taking a young woman into the forest at night. He changed his direction without another hesitation and began to lead her down the small trail. She smiled her eyes darkening ever so slightly, though he wouldn't be able to see in the shadows. He began telling her ghost stories and legends about the forest. He was trying to scare her, so she'd cling to him in the dark. Anya was fully aware of it and humored him. The more comfortable he felt with her, the easier it would be.
Her mind returned to the presence following at a distance. She'd guessed he was a vampire and his actions proved it to her. She'd sensed a familiar power within him and put up her mind's barrier. She'd learned to use it when Mikhail had taught her how that power could be used against her. She didn't want her mind compromised out in the forest with an unknown vampire. Alright. It's about time to take this up a notch. See how both react to a feeding. Now to make this 'gentleman', his true intentions obvious, think he's getting what he wants.
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Feb 10, 2012 23:34:51 GMT -7
Van Helsing let her questions roll over his shoulders and led Maria out of the bar and into the poorly lit streets of the small town. No one paid them much attention, most people busy heading home and indoors before darkness completely fell. No one stays out at night in places like this; the horror stories of family members being snatched away and never heard from again are enough to make everyone finish their days before the sun goes down.
The hunter turned to glance down at Maria. She wasn’t that much shorter than he was, but he still had to tilt his neck slightly to see her face. So far he couldn’t tell if she was phased or not by anything he’d said. After all, Van Helsing was certainly not a conversationalist; words were never something he felt were necessary to rely on. Actions defined a man, not casual lines of indifferent words. Through this process of not always speaking and mostly listening and acting, Van Helsing did adapt a keen mind for detecting liars pretty quickly.
“It’s a few miles to walk,” he began aloud, breaking the silence. “So, as we go, why don’t we talk about something? Like… your real name and where you’re really from?”
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Lestat clapped his hands in delight, turning from his position facing the mirror to give Astrid a sly smile. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was going to agree with him or not, or if she would even be willing to go with him. After all, he was a subtle, complex hunter; his prey always made him want to cherish them: their human qualities, all their tears and emotions and begging made him feel alive again. Though, of course, he didn’t always drain his… acquaintances till death. Only when I’m in a particularly wonderful mood.
“Wonderful!” he sighed, trying to hide all his clear excitement at having a companion to hunt with again. Though I’ve never really had a proper hunting partner anyway. “Although… I do have to change; this outfit isn’t good enough to take a lady out in.”
He immediately undid the buttons on his favorite blue vest, tossed it casually on his end of the sofa, then stripped off his cotton, white, lace-trimmed undershirt in the next instant. Lestat paused to admire himself in his mirror once again before turning and walking slowly, practically in a sensual saunter, toward the east side of the apartment where his bedroom and wardrobe were.
"You don’t have to kill, you know,” he said smoothly over his shoulder, opening his largest armoire and choosing the exact vest he wanted: blood red, lined in gold lace with flowered, embroidered, hand-stitched artwork across either side. “Feeding and killing are two different things. Remember that.”
After he donned a fresh, perfumed undershirt, Lestat put on his new vest and admired how fantastic the small piece of clothing made him feel. “Tell me,” he began, increasing the volume in his voice so Astrid could hear him. “When was the last time you fed on someone? I love your skin, mon cherie, but you seemed a little too pale when we first met.”
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Anne mentally battled herself for the next few moments, trying to think of what she could do before this werewolf recovered. Obviously someone had sent him, and they must mean business if their servant was intending to take any information to his grave. She thought of snapping the man’s neck and burying him in the woods, hoping that a missing messenger wouldn’t raise to many red flags with… whoever these people were. As soon as she took a deep breath, though, even went as far as taking the step forward and lifting her boot, but… you wouldn’t like this, would you, Henry? If the situation was still reversed, and this man wasn’t a werewolf, it wouldn’t be a problem to drain him dry and set him on fire. Right now, though… maybe clinging into humanity, in this case, isn’t so bad?
Instead of bringing her heel down on the man’s windpipe, Anne stepped on his other wrist… and applied pressure. “Listen to me,” she started slowly, her voice a low, deep whisper. “This is an order, toward you and whoever the hell sent you: stay away from me and my Henry. I don’t care what you know or where you’re from; if you come near me again, I will rip you to pieces no matter what the damn moon looks like. Understand?”
The man still remained silent, so Anne stepped even harder on his wrist. She could tell he wanted to grab her ankle, but his other hand was already incapacitated. Anne gave him another moment to respond, and, when he didn’t, she crushed his other wrist in several places. Stepping back, Anne darted away at an inhumanely fast speed, dodging trees and branches till she got as far away from the shack as she could stand. Fifteen minutes later, she was alone in the darkness, her heart beating in her throat, her breath short and fast.
Henry, where are you? she thought desperately, fighting back tears of confusion and fear. Please, send me some sign, anything, so I can figure out where they’ve taken you and if you’re even alive anymore.
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 11, 2012 14:45:10 GMT -7
Jinx tilted her face up to catch Van Helsing's gaze. The hunter didn’t seem to appreciate lies or pretences very much. But for the lady vampire there hadn’t been any reason to vary from her lies in years; she tightened her lips under her glamoured smirk and made an attempt to be honest, if not open. She wasn’t entirely sure she could be as straight forward as he seemed so impatient for her to be. Nor did it help persuade her to be sincere while he remained stubbornly unclear about himself and his awful job.
“Those aren’t very important things to talk about.” She shrugged off his question. “Is there anything else you had in mind to talk about, or should we get to the more interesting topic of what I’m tagging along with?” She looked ahead at the road waiting for either another question or a further explanation.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Carl looked up at the kind, much too pretty teen and smiled awkwardly. “Ah, thank you my son.” He replied, taking the cloth and pressing it to his cut. “It’s not so bad, I don’t think. ‘Just one of those heavy bleeders.” He tried laughing but ended up just grimacing. “I think this is helping it. Thank you again. Do… eh, you’re welcome to join me if you want. I was just finishing dinner.”
Carl felt out of sorts talking to this man and was still in a slight panic over him and his companion and the lovely woman. But he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It was not very Christian of him to assume the worst of this nice young man and besides, it seemed rude not to ask him to sit.
But he couldn’t keep his spine from stiffening and his heart from pumping harder. That big “What IF?” was hard to banish from his mind.
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Post by Armored Soul on Feb 18, 2012 22:27:53 GMT -7
Astrid lowered her head quickly and found sudden, intense interest in pattern of the carpet the moment Lestat started to undress. She had absolutely no interest in seeing him gloating over himself naked. Not to mention that she hadn't seen many men naked or even half-naked and she was embarrassed by the idea of looking at Lestat after they had only just met.
Don't have to kill? Oh of course. Right. How silly of me. She frowned, eyes narrowing at the carpet. I can't stop. I can never stop. Once I start, I always kill them. Feeding and killing are not two different things to me. They never have been.
With eyes still lowered, she mulled over Lestat's question and answered, "Three days... four days.... I don't know."
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Kain silently and carefully followed the vampire and her food. He didn't care too much if she noticed him, but he didn't want the human to. He stuck to the shadows, watching the behavior of the man and vampire. She certainly knew what she was doing; maybe Aidou was right to be a little nervous about her. But Aidou was always nervous (to say the least) around high class or elder vampires. His outgoing and optimistic nature often got him in trouble with his aristocratic and stick-up-the-ass type of family. Aidou's elders almost always chose physical punishment over verbal when it came to teaching Aidou his place. Kain had always been the one to patch up his abused cousin. Aidou had experienced everything from a slap on the cheek to a bucket over holy water over his head. Yes, Aidou had every right to be frightened of elder vampires.
I'll find out what this vampire is doing here, a bit about her, and make sure she stays away from Aidou. That's all I'm here for. If I need to, I'll burn her. Kain's thoughts were calm, decisive. He'd burned vampires before; control over fire proved helpful at times. Part of him regretting killing his own kind, and part of him didn't care. Since he and Aidou had started traveling together, he'd abandoned care for the etiquette of the vampiric world. He'd been strictly told by many to never use his control over fire for such a purpose, but he would do it anyway if it meant protecting Aidou.
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"Thank you," Aidou smiled widely at the invitation and sat at the monk's table. "My name is Aidou Hanabusa. I'm traveling with my cousin and we're learning all sorts of things about the world!" His words were genuinely happy and truthful. He liked to tell a bit about himself before questioning his prey. Even if it wasn't a female, he always established a friendly, trusting atmosphere with whomever he targeted. Fear was not his style. He liked things fun. So without giving the bleeding man a chance to say anything he continued bubbly, "Are you a monk? I've always been interested in monks. I think they're great! Of course, I could never be a monk; my attention span's too small."
The sparkling giggle that came from Aidou made him smile even more. He had to keep himself distracted. Unlike Kain, he had little restraint around blood. Without Kain with him, there was a fair chance he might just snap and kill the monk right now.
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Feb 19, 2012 10:03:49 GMT -7
Van Helsing rolled his eyes; he didn’t really expect any shock from this girl (Maria or whoever) or even a straight answer, but her blatant belligerence toward his questions was irritating. He was used to everyone being so afraid of him that they just told him what he needed to know. When that wasn’t the case and he was speaking to his superiors, he was used to a “yes” or “no” basis for answers; no questions. They weren’t too far from the remote home designated on his orders now, maybe a mile or two left before they arrived.
Or… maybe she’s hiding herself, not just her feelings, he thought suddenly, trying his best to put two and two together. A disguise? A spell? Something like that? I don’t know.
“Fine,” he snapped, rather childishly. “I’ll just cut right to it, then: what experience do you have with werewolves?”
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Lestat made a sharp, disappointed clucking noise with his tongue, swallowing a laugh. This poor little child… she has so much to learn. And the best part is how hilarious I find it that I’m the one instructing her! I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. How can I take on some youngling, adopt her like a lost little puppy and expect her to listen to me when…? I’m all alone, just like I was at the beginning. My siblings hated me because I was different; my father cared for none of us; my mother… Gabrielle is gone. Nicolas, Claudia, Louis, Akasha… I have no one but myself. But no self-pity; you’re the devil’s damned Brat Prince! Lestat de Lioncourt, Prince of Darkness! So many would kill to be stuck with you for eternity, so… smile.
After straightening his collar once more in the mirror, Lestat stepped back out into the sitting room, doing a slow, dramatic, full turn for Astrid, more to see her reaction than actually impress her with his evening best. He thought of making a joke about her needing a thicker coat to keep her warm in the chilled night air, but… then thought better of it. Louis never understood my sense of humor, either; I’d give him gold and he’d give me his despair, practically drowning us both.
“Well, then,” he began. “I guess it doesn’t matter if you don’t remember; tonight you’ve got a date with a Prince!” Lestat couldn’t help but pause and wink at her despite no usual, girlish reaction from Astrid. “Oh, don't look so depressed, love! I know just the people and just the place, so all you have to do is behave yourself: don’t ask too many questions, don’t whine about anyone’s… mortal state, don’t ruin or upstage my outfit… it’s that simple.”
He held out his hand toward Astrid, positively grinning with delight. “Shall we, Mademoiselle Darque?”
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Anne wished, more than a lot of things right now, that she still had her horse. Yes, during the night she could move or run very quickly, but it used up a vast amount of energy; the last thing she wanted was to arrive at a town where there was a possible… confrontation with only half her strength intact. She was painfully aware of how white her skin was against the dark shadows of the forest and her deeply-dyed clothing.
“I miss that more than you know, Henry; the way our skin would tan. In Italy I’d almost always come home with sunburns on my nose and cheek, making my olive skin a nasty red. You, though, dear… you never tanned; you stayed as white as snow,” Anne spoke aloud, absentmindedly touching the healed skin on her face. Looking at her, no one would know she’d just had her top layer of her chin and mouth burned off by force. No, she was back to her perfectly alabaster white.
Anne glanced up at the stars she could see through the tree branches. Trying her best to find her location, she headed north as well as she could. Despite already getting over the pain and (most of) trauma of what had just happened to her, she couldn’t dismiss the werewolf’s questions. What was a Key? How did he know about Henry? Where did he come from?
“Oh, I’m finding out,” Anne growled to herself, her hands balling into tight fists. “He caught me off guard once… well, these ‘people’ managed to get me today, but it sure as hell won’t happen again. I’ve had enough of this bullshit; time for some answers.”
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 19, 2012 15:29:04 GMT -7
Jinx’s squeezed Van Helsing's arm with her own, enjoying getting on his nerves. She liked repaying his blunt nature and her dislike of him with her own irritating ways.
The first words that came to her lips to answer him were “I’ve never seen any.” But she bit this lie back; even she could see that was a waste of time. She could pull off the human mask for Van Helsing, but he wouldn’t be fooled by stupidity or ignorance. She stared ahead at the road they followed and thought about how to reply.
Jinx hadn’t dealt with any werewolves face to face since she was a new born and she could barely remember that—whether because it was too long ago or she simply didn’t want to remember it was another one of those questions she pretended not to think about. Since then when she saw a wolf man or woman, as with any inhuman creature she passed, she layered the glamours on and listened in for news and names of their world. They never talked to her or suspected her of being an enemy or friend. Silently she wondered if she’d always hid from them because she didn’t want anyone to recognize her. She didn’t think the people who first attacked her were still around or would care for her, but the niggling fear still made her wonder. After just a few moments too long of silence she opened her mouth.
“I’ve was attacked by a group once.” She answered with the truth, giving him an inch. “Luckily for you, they didn’t snack on me.” She winked up at him, hoping to play on his nerves a little more. “What are we going to be doing with werewolves?” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Carl eyed the young man nervously. He was used to whispering monks and this boy was practically yelling, at least it felt that way. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling and laughing, as if he found his own thoughts to be truly funny. The young man’s odd bubbly nature was so infectious the monk found himself smiling along with Aidou.
“Yes I am a monk. I can see that you wouldn’t make a very good monk, but that’s not really a bad thing. I haven’t heard anyone be so… animated for a long time. It’s actually very nice. So where are you and your cousin traveling to? Anywhere in particular?” Although Aidou seemed perfectly capable of keeping the conversation going all on his own Carl felt happy to help the boy keep talking. It was nice to hear someone so happy to be alive. The blood had seeped through the cloth he’d been offered but it seemed to be stopping now. He lifted the piece of fabric off his arm with a wince to check and see if it was clotting; he wrinkled his nose at the nasty red splotches coating his arm but was pleased to see he seemed to have stopped bleeding.
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