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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 26 2008, 02:53 PM (619 Views) | |
| Leventa | Mar 26 2008, 02:53 PM Post #1 |
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![]() Twilight in Domino. The sky caught between night and day. Unfortunately for Rouge, twilight never seemed to last long enough. It was her favorite time of day but, had it not been so fleeting a thing, perhaps she wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly so much. Driving around the city streets with her trusted canine sitting in the seat beside her, Rouge looked for a good place to stop the car. After wandering around the city roads, the barking of her dog drew a smile to her lips. “Here, 'kota? Okay.” Parking the car against the sidewalk, she turned the engine off and palmed the keys into her pocket. Grabbing Dakota's leash, Rouge stepped out of her red Camero as her dog followed her out over the seats and onto the concrete sidewalk. Reaching in before she closed the door, Rouge removed a black backpack from the vehicle and slung it over her shoulder. “Should be a good enough spot,” Rouge said cheerfully. Petting Dakota on the head, Rouge started down the sidewalk. With the sun just starting to go down, people were hitting the streets. Some going on dates, maybe heading to restaurants or running off to a party. High foot traffic meant good odds. Mixing in with the crowd, Rouge didn't seem the least bit out of place. She blended well with the mostly Asian population, being a mix of Asian and European lineage herself. She wore a pair of hip hugging black jeans, a trendy pair of sneakers and a red hoodie sweatshirt with the words “What big teeth you have” on the front. At a mere 23 years of age she looked like just another innocent bystander. Was she a bystander, much less an innocent one? Certainly not. Rouge wasn't her real name. Hell, Dakota wasn't even the dog's real name! It took more than an hour of walking around, but finally the dog hit on a scent. Stopping dead in her tracks, she watched as Dakota lowered her nose to the ground and began snuffling louder than she had at any other point in the night. Whining softly to signal her owner, the dog began to lead her along the trail. Within minutes Rouge was following a lovely looking pair of what appeared to be young lovers. Neither of them could possibly be past 16 or 17. The acne helped give it away. “Fleabags,” she muttered under her breath, too soft for even them to hear. She followed them for a short while as the pair picked up a couple bags of takeout and headed back the way they had come. Perhaps to their den? She continued after them, keeping her distance all the while, just barely leaving them in sight. Eventually the 3 of them(4 if you count the dog)began to break away from the small crowds on the street. A stroke of luck came about when the couple she was following walked into an alleyway all on their lonesome, apparently intending to take a side entrance into what appeared to be an abandoned store. Not a den at all, but a private hangout. Naughty teenagers. Finally breaking into a run, Rouge caught up to them just as they reached the door. “Excuse me! I can't find where I was supposed to meet my date. Is there any chance I can ask for some directions?” The female of the pair seemed skeptical, but Rouge flashed a smile and the boy smiled back, easily disarmed. The boy was cute enough despite a pimple or two, his hair a sandy-brown. His eyes were blue enough that she could tell what color they were even from a distance. The girl had darker hair, and it was cropped closely to her head. Shorter than Rouge would ever wear hers. All in all they looked perfectly normal. Harmless even. But she knew better. As the boy walked closer, Rouge smiled again, her hand reaching back into one of the backpack's pockets. “Where are you trying to get to?” Asked the male. Rouge responded by burying a silver knife in his ribs. Dropping his bags of food, the boy stared dumbly at the knife, almost blankly, as if to say, “No way, is this for real?” Rouge decked him in the jaw to end his silent questions, knocking him flat onto his ass. Stepping past him like he was a sack of fallen garbage, Rouge swung her shoulder forward, bringing the bag along with it as it slipped off her shoulder and down into her hand. Reaching inside smoothly, the girl barely got off a shout of anger and fear before Rouge filled her lungs with silver. The silencer equipped 9mm gentled the female lycan down, leaving her on the ground as pure silver sizzled into her lungs. Behind her, the injured boy made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a human cry of rage as he yanked the knife from his chest and rapidly began to shift into a massive wolf that made his human form look as harmless as a dust mite. Letting go of the leash, Dakota darted forward and leaped, pouncing in the partially changed lycanthrope and going for the neck. The dogs teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light and, only then with lips drawn back and fangs striking, did it become apparent that several of the dog's sharp front teeth were capped in silver. Now fully changed, the wolf was many times larger than any natural canine, not to mention faster, stronger and smarter. With little difficulty the wolf whipped around and ripped the attacking dog from his back, tossing it several feet away and onto the ground. Pressing his advantage, the wolf stalked towards the stunned dog. Dakota was never meant to kill the werewolf, only to distract it. Aiming carefully, Rouge fired several rounds into the werewolf's side, mortally wounding it, but not instantly killing the beast. Struggling upright, Dakota shook the spittle from her fur and whined softly at the half-dead werewolf. “It's okay girl. We're almost done for tonight.” Wanton Murderer though she was, Rouge loved her pooch. It was hard to find a dog that would track a lycanthrope at all. Most of them would whimper and cower in fear with their tails between their legs at the mere scent of a nearby lycan. It took years of training to condition a dog that could track or fight a lycan. Slipping the pistol back into her backpack, Rouge approached the wounded and unconscious lycan without fear. In fact, she seemed damn near eager. She hurried to its side, pulling a pair of pliers and a silver knife from her bag as she went, kneeling down beside the quickly dying werewolf's head. The hard part with getting any sort of material from a lycan was that they typically changed back to human form upon death. So it was important to leave them alive long enough to slice out whatever you needed. As long as it was taken from them before death, the organs and body parts tended to stay in their current form. Pulling the lycan's lips up with her free hand, Rouge ignored the blood pouring from its throat with each breath as she began to take the pliers to its teeth. The teeth were always worth the most. Especially the canines. They had an incredibly high value on the black market, used as everything from talismans to display pieces. Every now and then somebody would try to pawn off the teeth of big cats like tigers or lions as those of a lycan. It rarely worked. The main reason being that lycan teeth are stronger than most metals. Especially if you took them from an alpha. Those teeth fetched the highest prices, and were nearly indestructible. Finished with prying the teeth loose, Rouge shot the suffering beast twice in the head, putting him down like the animal he was was. It mattered little to her that the male lycanthrope slowly melted back to its human form as she stood, watching the mangled body appear before her without so much as a glint of sympathy in her eyes. They were all just wolves in sheep's clothing to her. Dangerous animals that deserved to be put down in the worst way. Jingling her bag, Rouge could hear the teeth clacking around inside. They were only of average quality, but they'd still fetch a couple grand apiece. Not bad for a nights work. |
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| Deleted User | Apr 15 2008, 10:42 AM Post #2 |
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One hour earlier… ”Now breath in deeply.” Issac said as he placed his hand against another teenage boy’s chest with his stethoscope; listening carefully to anything that might have seem out of place. The young boy with sandy brown hair and a pimple or two did as he was told as he stared across the room to his younger sister who was reading a take out menu. Her stomach growled and churned from hunger as she waited. The two of them, like Issac were Lycans. Both of these two young teens were alone though, with no pack to speak of, but they preferred it that way. Issac was just there to check up on them as he normally did ever so often. ”Very good. Your asthma seems to have gotten much better. Your inhaler helps, Jason? Ena was the one who bought it for you.” Jason, as the young man was named, nodded with a bright smile, as his sister rolled her eyes and sat up from her chair. She walked over to Issac as Jason sat off the bed. She in turn sat down in front of Issac as the young medic removed thermometer and placed it into her mouth. ”Have you been eating rats again, Kim? They’re littered with diseases. I don’t care how fast you think our healing factor is, eating those things still holds risks of disease, not to mention it’s disgusting. I know you two don’t have a lot of food, or money, but try stay off the rats. I’m leaving you both a few blankets and about 4,000 yen, ok? Sondra bought them at a resale shop for cheap and washed them. Made them look brand new. And Gabe donated most of the money. Get some good food. It’ll help both of you. And Jason, don’t buy any cigarettes.” Jason pouted and then nodded in compliance. Kim smirked at her older brother as Issac removed the thermometer and threw it away. He then removed two syringes from his leg strap, used a cotton swab with rubbing alcohol on it on the girls arm, and injected her with it. She cringe just slightly, but endured it none the less. Issac then did the same treatment to the boy, Jason. ”This will protect you from rabies. Ok, well, that looks to be it. You two are in good shape. Now I know you’re tired of me saying this, but seriously think about joining one of the packs around Japan. If not the Sanguis Luna, then maybe the Nocturne Stream in Tokyo or the Kagekami all the way down in that Neko City, Nekonokokuto. ” ”Nocturne Stream? The one with no members younger than 40 in their pack? And I never heard of the Kagekami, but I rather not move into a neko city. Domino is already filled with Lycan-phobes. Imagine how more freaked out they would be down there where they could smell us. I think if we want to hide out, Domino is good.” Kim said as Issac was pulling out his wallet and removing some money. He then handed the money over to Jason. Issac smiled and packed his things and headed for the door; pulling a long leather trench coat over his dark blue scrubs. ”Even if the Nocturne Stream is filled with senior citizens, they willbe able to take care of you both. Mrs. Patrolli is a great fenir. She’s kind of masculine, but she’s a good person. She use to be a gym teacher before she was bitten. And the Kagekami are filled with mostly teenagers and one fenir who’s 27 named Seto. It’s a small pack, but they live pretty well over there. They all have jobs, and share a condo. Anyways. Think about my offer. Jacob may seem unapproachable at times, but he’s a good guy. He’d take you two out of this… um… what is this place?” ”It use to be a storage room for garbage cans.” Issac blinked as Kim spoke about their small living quarters that was barely large enough to fit all three of them. Issac then nodded his good byes, but not before Kim stood up quickly and hugged Issac tightly. He eyes were shut tightly as she took him his scent deeply. Jason watched for a few moments before doing the same; wrapping his arms around his sister and Issac while taking in the medic’s scent. Issac patted them both on the back and held them for a few seconds before they all finally released each other, now with Kim having tears in her eyes and a smile on her face too. ”Ok, you two. I need to go. I have another patient that needs to be checked up on. A little lycan boy is sick. Be good, take care of each other, and I’ll see you in about two days, when I come to drop off the new inhaler. Bye” And Issac left the small ally, not knowing that was the last time he would ever see Kim and Jason, and never being able to drop off that new inhaler… Now, as several hours had past, Issac exited a small house and turned around towards a mother and father, both holding onto their young son who were now standing at the doorway. The little boy was leaning his head on his mother’s shoulders as he slept, and Issac smirked at the scene. ”He’ll be fine. The medicine will make him drowsy for tonight, but let him sleep. He can eat when he gets ups. You have my number so call me tomorrow, and tell me his condition, ok? Bye.” The Family waved their farewells to Issac as he walked off, now on a journey back home to the Sanguis Luna house. On his way back home, the smell of grilled meat balls on sticks heavily filled the air and happen to wave past Issac; stopping him in his tracks. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as his stomach caused him to take a detour. Sure he already ate dinner at home, but a small snack before bed wasn’t unheard of. So Issac made his way towards the smell, where he stood in line behind two other people at a grill stand on the side of the road, next to a street light, and a Red Camero. |
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| Deleted User | Apr 22 2008, 12:42 AM Post #3 |
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You would think that Harker would have learned his lesson about wandering around the city blindly, after what had happened to him last time. Of course, it would be fairly difficult to really compare Domino's Entertainment District in the early evening to the Kabuki-Cho District at night. You could probably say that both contained buildings, and people, and a few other things common to all modern cities... but that was about it. Besides, unless there were muggers carrying silver knives, he probably didn't have to worry about dying. Not that he felt like getting knifed in the gut again, but at least he knew it wouldn't be fatal. Just very, very painful. He had left the pack's house to, bluntly, get some alone time for a little bit. He had been a loner most of his life, through circumstance if not through choice, and while the packing instincts of the lycan virus were integrating into his personality, he still felt the need to occaisionally be alone. Besides, Rae seemed to be getting into the habit of dragging him along with her whenever she went... just about anywhere, really. Usually not for anything that he was especially suited for, except maybe as a pack mule. The enhanced senses were getting easier to handle as well, he noted as he briefly closed his eyes to scent the various smells drifting through Domino. Initially, the sheer variety and intensity of the smells had been enough to give him headaches, but the ability, like the other lycan instincts, was slowly merging into his mind. There was still the minor problem of his brain interpreting the smell of the humans wandering the city in much the same way it did the scent of the varying food stands scattered around Domino, but that just took an extra bit of thought. Really. No urges to run down passing pedestrians and tear their throats out. At all. Not even the weak and injured. Honestly. As it was, he caught a vaguely familiar scent, and started almost subconsciously heading towards it. Desire for alone-time notwithstanding, the packing instinct was strong. Besides, being alone in a very small group was always better than being alone by yourself. There was logic there, really. Harker wasn't crazy. Besides, there was some kind of food stand in that direction, and he was getting hungry. "Hey," he called out, waving at Issac as he drew into sight of the grill and the waiting line of people, speeding to a trot at the same time. "Issac," he said, a little out of breath as he arrived at the line. "What are you doing out?" It sounded a little awkward, but it sufficed as far as greetings went. Not likely to end up on any cards, but it served enough to get something resembling conversation going. |
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| Leventa | Apr 22 2008, 08:50 PM Post #4 |
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“Good girl, good girl!” Rogue said cheerfully as she walked along, lovingly petting the top of the dogs head as they went. The encouragement was an important aspect of the canines' training, a necessary part of getting her to hunt and fight her much, much larger cousins. But more than that, Rouge was in a great mood. The hunt always gave her an incredible rush of adrenaline. It was starting to get to the point that she only felt truly alive when she was filling a fleabag with silver. The money was nice. Great even. But it was the love of the job that really kept her going. Besides, it was one of the few things that she was good at. Finding her car, Rouge unknowingly turned her back on the two lycans waiting in line for food just a few scant yards away. As she slid her key into the car door, the teeth in her bag jingled and Dakota whined softly from her place at Rouge's side. She froze immediately, all but for her right hand, which was trembling ever so slightly in fear. She knew exactly what the dog's signal indicated, which meant that she had at least one lycan not far behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Rouge quickly spotted the two males that her finely trained acquaintance was pointing at, the canines' body ramrod straight as she pointed the threat out to her mistress. Opening the car door, Rouge ushered Dakota to safety before closing the door. Whether or not they were here for her, it'd be mere seconds before they smelled the blood of two of their kind on the woman behind them. A very human woman who just so happened to be wearing a red hoodie sweatshirt. It was only a matter of moments before the unfavorable wind carried the scent to those two leg humpers, and then the proverbial jig would be up. Finally snapping out of her fright induced haze, Rouges training kicked in gear. Most of the time it was preferable that these sorts of matters were conducted in relative privacy, but the Red Hood code of conduct allowed public displays if the proper extenuating circumstances arose. Either way, she couldn't pass up the chance to nail another two wolves. Pulling her hood up over her head, and zipping the red sweatshirt all the way up to cover the lower portion of her face, Rogue stepped into line right behind the pair. Reaching into her bag, she quickly drew her pistol and pointed it at the back of the eldest lycan's head. Thumbing back the hammer with an all too loud click, she fired at pointblank range, intent on seating a silver bullet into the base of his brain. |
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| Deleted User | Apr 23 2008, 11:24 PM Post #5 |
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The smell of beef meat balls, and squid meat balls filled Issac’s nostrils. The young medic took in a deep breath, and took a step forward as the line to the grill stand got shorter. He licked his lips as he stomach gave a small whimper as if knowing it would soon get a nice little snack before bed. Issac placed his briefcase down on the floor for a moment and stared at his watch. It read 8:03 p.m. Maybe, if he got home within the hour, he could grab some leftovers from dinner. Normally, about an hour after dinner, Suzuki, Will, or Gabe would be digging through the fridge again for what ever wasn’t eaten during dinner. So, the leftovers in that house normally didn’t make it to the next day. It was just a smaller, colder second dinner, if you will. It was then the sound of a small sob that made Issac look up from his watch and stare forward. The young woman in front of him was trying with all her might to be silent as if she didn’t want to disturb anyone with her weeps. As he scratched his head, Issac took a step beside the woman and looked down at her swollen red eyes. ”Oh dear. Water works. So what caused the leak in those glistening pools?” Issac said in a casual yet friendly tease as he removed a handkerchief from his jacket and tabbed the side of the girl’s eyes. The sudden voice and the action of someone wiping her eyes shocked the girl into looking up with eyes reminiscent of a deer in head lights. She stepped back a bit with a worried face, which Issac countered with a step backwards of his own. Personal bubbles never popped, but it was fun to try. Issac smiled a sweet gleam before pocketing the cloth. The girl looked down and began to mumble something about her boyfriend and a fight. Immediately, Issac stepped forward again. ”Oh there there. A pretty girl like you, especially one with your legs, should never mumble. Speak clearly. It shows how sweet your voice is. My name’s Issac. So, could you repeat that in a prettier voice?” ”Oh…um… Hi Issac. My name is Jen. My boyfriend… he broke my heart. When we were fighting he called me stupid… Do you think I’m stupid?” ”I don’t know if I think you’re stupid. Are you stupid? Are you NOT stupid? How can you think you’re stupid? Shouldn’t you be able to look deep inside yourself and just KNOW you’re stupid? Come on now! Stop being so wishy washy! You’re either stupid or you’re not! Well? Are you stupid?” ”…no…I’m not stupid…” ”Then nobody else’s opinion matters.” Issac said with a nod and a smile. The girl looked at the young lycan as if she didn’t get the entire sentence, but eventually it seemed she caught on and cracked a small smile. She then nodded back at Issac. ”You really know how a woman feels.” ”Yes I do… …eh, at least I felt enough women to venture a guess.” ”…huh?” ”Sorry. That’s your cue to say ‘Issac! You perv!’ And roll your eyes, slap me, whatever.” Issac said in a closed eyed smile as he waved his hand up and down on a limp wrist towards the girl named Jen. ”Umm…” Hey!” A familiar voice called out to the Eir which interrupted the awkward moment. As Harker arrived at the scene, Issac took hold of Harker and placed the young pup in front of him just as a slap fell his way. The girl slapped Harker across the face and stormed off all while Issac was waving good bye to her. ”Bye bye now! …Hee. Well, Harker. Nice to see you out tonight, but you really shouldn’t be going around getting young women so angry at you like that. You’ll never find a girlfriend that way. I was visiting Jason and Kim, and the Mc’Riley’s son today to see how they are doing. You know Jason and Kim. The two who came to us after Shani, that little voodoo priestess, or rather, her head, escaped my basement, and they wanted to warn us she got a new body or something like that.” Issac said to Harker as he released the teenager from his hold. While all this was happening, Issac hadn’t noticed Rouge come up behind him. At first, it was weird that the girl got so close so quickly, but Issac didn’t think so much of it until he heard the click, and the smell… of… blood. Similar to how rouge reacted at first when encountering the two lycans, Issac froze as his heart raced. He could vividly see Kim’s and Jason’s faces in his head, and now having their blood’s scent all over this girl. BANG! The bullet sounded off but right before, Issac once again grabbed Harker and pulled him forward. Not into the way of the attack this time, mind you, but downward out of the way as the bullet passes them both and hits the old lady who was grilling the meat balls in the chest. As the old woman falls backwards from the shot, Issac swiftly spun around on his heel while withdrawing one of his special friends. A blue syringe; Issac's blue friend filled with tetrodotoxin, a chemical that would cause numbness in the injectee's body, but only temperarily. Issac stabbed the needle into Rouge’s arm as his foot flung up and slammed the syringe deeper into the Red Hood’s flesh. The site of the red hood shocked Issac. His eyes burst open as he took Harker’s hand and sprinted off with the pup being pulled behind him. ”Harker! Run!” |
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| Willhelm the Werewolf | Apr 26 2008, 07:41 PM Post #6 |
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On the other end of town there stood Greg. He had only wanted to go out and grab some seeds for a variety of herbs for his healing and aromatherapy practices, which he did rather quietly when ever Issac was around. One doesn’t go up to the pack’s Eir and go around flaunting the ability to heal via magic, besides Issac was by far the better doctor. Despite Greg’s ability to heal, Issac knew more about the human body than anyone else, and so Greg graciously accepted being a nurse (again) though he simply glared at him when Issac suggested that he wear the nurse’s hat. Besides healing herbs, he also wanted to get Rog some cooking herbs: basil, rosemary, ect. It was the least that he could do. The chef deserved some fresh ingredients so that he could dazzle a bit on top of their next lamb. Oh juicy, juicy sweet lamb. He had never eaten so well in his life, though part of that was being able to taste so much more out of every bite. All in all with the occasional case in which he had actually restrain himself, in the literal sense, in order to not kill people who annoyed him, got in his space, and went into his territory. He was doing pretty well as a werewolf. It was the smells that bothered him though: the smell of cooking meat especially. Ever since Greg learned that he could grow plants, he never actually needed to eat a lot of meat. Even in winter, he could simply live off a patch of soil and a good selection of seeds: fresh oranges all year round in the middle of Japan. It was the predator inside him that kept on screaming, ‘eat meat’ over and over again. But it was the human inside him who wanted a nice fresh, ripe tomato. Given the contrast between bacon and tomatoes, Greg settled on making BLTs. There was always someone in the kitchen, frying up stuff, rummaging through the cupboards or the freezer, and whenever Greg was munching through the kitchen, he was making BLT’s like a machine. Cutting tomatoes, toasting bread, slabbing on mayonnaise together to make some heavenly delight of food. Mostly though, his sandwiches were all about the bacon. Bacon, and of course growling at anyone who decided to steal his food. So much delicious bacon, but he wasn’t really that picky: bacon, pork, burger, chicken, or veal would just be fine and the whole shebang at once would be the best. His dreams were filled with roasted chickens scurrying through the underbrush and being surrounded by the aroma of veal, no, not road kill that Rog so lovingly put it, but delicious sweet does and bucks who’s antlers would be made out of sausages. Even when searching for the best quality seeds for basil, all his mind could think about was meat, and it unconsiously searched out the area for some veal or something, and yes, Greg was literally drooling, having the brave young woman who managed the store tap him on the soldier. “Sorry.” Greg mumbled as he got back into himself. He was hungry. He was always hungry, but he really, really was hungry this time. His stomach growled in the desire to be fed, his senses all went up tenfold, and the people here smelled so delicious. He shook himself awake. Yes, he didn’t normally want to eat people, but a wolf would eat anything if it got hungry enough. Smiling, he laughed, and apologized, paid for the herbs and continued on to the street. Most people ignored him. Tails weren’t really a huge deal in Domino, what with all the meta-humans all over the place. Granted there were some idiots who couldn’t help but stare, and a few individuals who crossed the street rather than talk to him—but most individuals who were afraid of any minority that was hidden, whatever that minority might be, was more angry that it was hidden, creeping around, and willing to pounce on them. Tails were not hidden. They just made you a visible target. ‘Mistress says find dog-people, mistress says hunt dog-people, mistress says kill dog-people.’ That is what Greg heard, or more specifically what he loosely translated from reading the mind of the dog. Honestly, Greg was not considered to be very brilliant in any regard, not smart either. He was nothing more than pleasantly average in the department of intelligence. It really only took an average intelligence to understand what a dog-person was. He couldn’t help it really, the resistance on this would be so quick that he didn’t even have a chance to resist what was occurring. His packmates were in danger (because it honestly did not occur to him that the wolf-people were anything but his packmates) and he would lay bloody murder on them for it. It took all of a few seconds for Greg to transform into a six foot something wolf and go all out to smack down. Bones cracked, hair turned into a course fur, and Greg struggled into an alleyway very quickly as the feelings took place. The clothing ripped, but Greg somehow managed to take off his shoes and belt (with his herbs) and stuff them away under trash, while the remainder of his clothes shredded into a deposit of rags. Bones turned inside, twisted, liquefied, joined together, and cracked into smaller bones in a cacophonic chorus of pain. The head lengthens as he grunts out something unimaginable with his long, long toungue. Hands pad into hardness, nails lengthen into curves. On the ground, his hips twist from a two-legged wolf into a four legged wolf. He howled into the day and people began to panic. But the wolf was not looking on preying on panicking humans, it wanted to do one thing and one thing only: kill the intruder. At fourty miles per hour, he was running quite quickly, he jumped over cars, jumped on one (creating a massive dent in the hood), and ran past screaming people. A shot was fired, not silver, but he could still feel it graze past his body. People were an annoyance he could not afford to get entangled with. He hopped up onto a roof, and disappeared from sight except whenever he made a running bound of a hump from roof to roof and across small alleyways. He howled in the daylight. The two-legs were probably going to call for backup; he didn’t care. No one messes with his family, no one, and it didn’t take long to find them—they smelled so unique, and he could recognize them from a good long distance, but it was the dog that was the key, when you can hear the thoughts of an animal that was trying to kill you, you could narrow in pretty darn quick. But his thoughts were just as simple, just as instinctual, kill the woman, kill the dog, defend the pack. It didn’t take long to find the red corvette, and see his family running away from a woman holding a gun. Greg lunged at the two of them, sixteen feet clearance, and hurdled himself from behind so as to jump on top of the car. He howled, lunged, and would chase the woman down, and of course pedestrians would be screaming, dogs would be barking, and life would happen around them, but hey, a six foot something wolf jumped from a building on top of a car. He wasn’t looking to make friends. |
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| Deleted User | May 16 2008, 12:54 PM Post #7 |
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(I'm posting out of turn to keep this thread going >.>;;) The Red Hoods, a group with a special dislike for Lycans, was one of very few things Issac feared. However, it wasn't the type of fear a person would have if they saw a hideous monster or some being only your nightmares could produce. No. Issac was suppose to be the monster in this scenario; like all his kind. The type of fear he had was littered with guilt like he had done something insanely vile and was now trying to hide the evidence. Poor Harker. The Red Hoods would have never even given him a second glance if Issac had never cursed him that one gruesome night. Then again, Harker was on the verge of death. But... which was worse? Death from a stab wound as a human or being hunted down like an animal just because you were one of few who had the "disease"? To people like Rogue and the Red Hoods, Issac and Harker didn't have a disease. They were the disease. That would never change. And the young medic knew this all too well. Issac was running as quickly as he could without going too fast that Harker would stumble and fall. The young medic was holding so tightly to Harker's wrist there was probably little circulation traveling to his fingers. He would give the younger pup an ice pack after they escaped. Tears were running down his eyes so quickly and in so much quantity that it his vision was blurred, and fuzzy, but he had to keep running. He had to do anything to get Harker out of that situation unharmed. Kim’s sarcastic smile and Jason’s easy going grin hovered inside Issac’s head as he took a whiff of the scent of their bodies still on his clothe from their group hug a couple hours earlier. Issac could barely breathe from how devastated he was from the now lingering smell of Jasons’s blood that he picked up from the Red Hood girl. They were dead now,and couldn’t be helped. Now, Harker’s safety was top priority. Everything was beginning to look good as the two Sanguis Luna members grew farther and farther away from Rogue, but then a familiar scent got involve. "Greg!" Issac came to such an abrupt halt that his feet skidded across the sidewalk and Harker crashed into him; making them both almost lose their balance. The brown haired lycan turned to Harker with a look so full of dread it was almost unrecognizable from Issac’s usual smirking, slightly smug face. With one forward sprint, Issac turned and began running the way they came. There was little chance Will knew exactly what he was getting into. He was new to their world after all, and had not been acquainted with everything about their way of living besides the basic instincts. There was a larger society based in lycan history. The Red Hoods have been around for centuries and they didn't just consist of humans. Meta-humans were often members of their little organization of hate. The group itself has been known throughout the dark underground races as being a dangerous bunch to encounter. Witches, vampires, and demons were all common prey for these hunters, but they had a place in their twisted hearts for werewolves. As Issac returned to the scene, he immediately saw that not only had Greg transformed, but he was also in a full on attack. Issac released Harker as he flung his arm out to the side which made his long black leather trench coat open up violently in the air. Swiftly, Issac removed a set of four scalpels from the inside of his coat and underhand threw one of the surgical knives at Rogue, and three at Greg. The single scalpel he launched at Rogue would be just a diversion to her already numbed body and of course, the three aimed at Greg's side would be his distraction to the raging wolf. As an Alpha ranked lycan, Issac could control himself in his wolf form just as easily as he would in his human form, but will would still be in his first phase as a lycan and have little if any control over his basic instincts to protect the pack, mate, and find food. And, that was what most Red Hoods counted on. He had to get Greg's attention. ”Greg! Over here. AWOOOOOOOOOOOO!” |
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| Deleted User | May 20 2008, 12:07 AM Post #8 |
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Deleted User
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Harker really could not follow what was happening. That kind of thing seemed to be happening an awful lot lately. If he were more cynical, he might have blamed the lycan virus, or even Issac and the rest of the Sanguis, but he wasn't that petty. He knew Issac and, less directly, Jacob, had saved his life by infecting him. The fact that the weirdness in his life had exponentially ramped up was totally a coincidence. Even if most of it had resulted in his connections to the pack. Really. All he knew is that he had been saying hi to someone who straddled a really odd line between family member, friend, and lifesaver, and then his head had apparently been used as some kind of blunt instrument. Things had then proceeded to go downhill. They were fleeing. There was an important distinction in Harker's mind between merely running and fleeing -- fleeing implied that there was something where you had been that you wanted to not be near. And you wanted to not be near it very, VERY quickly. Harker's tactical knowledge was admittedly very limited, but that translated in his mind to a Bad Thing (tm). "What's-" Issac stopped, causing Harker to partake in a brief, impromptu lesson in Newton's Laws Of Motion. Harker flushed a little, taking an automatic step back as he regained his balanced. Issac looked completely terrified, something that did nothing to improve Harker's own fear. Even in the middle of the fight that had erupted on Harker's first night as a conscious member of the pack, Issac hadn't looked nearly this shaken. That alone was almost more terrifying to him than who or whatever the psychotic gunman they had left behind was. And then they were going back. Harker's instincts generally failed to reach any kind of consensus about this. One the one hand, he considered the best course of action to be finding some kind of phone and getting the rest of the pack down here. His wolf-like instincts, on the other hand, were screaming at him to turn around and fight the interloper that was now threatening two members of his pack. Harker gave this massive internal conflict the studied response of trying very hard not to hyperventilate as he ran. ”Will! Over here. AWOOOOOOOOOOOO!” In the end, it was really the howl that did it. The panic already had his mind on the fritz, adrenaline was throbbing through his system at an almost painful level, and the howl, even from Issac's human form, reached down through his auditory canal and throttled some part of his brain that housed the lycanthrope instincts. At what was probably one of the most inopportune times ever, Harker began to change. As Issac released him, Harker let out a small, pained gasp that rapidly changed into a feral snarl as bones and muscle started rearranging themselves into the lupine shape of a wolf. Fast, strong, and totally inappropriate for what was happening. |
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