Midnight Brawl (Open)

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

a dwelling place for demons

she's a cage for every unclean spirit

Swaggering about like she owned the place, the pink-haired femme fatale stopped in the middle of the abandoned lot and looked around, smiling a wide grin. On her finger a set of keys twirled—a set she had stolen from someone simply because she didn’t have any. Lyn didn’t even know what the keys unlocked—and her other hand was in the pocket of her reversible blazer. As the quiet dragged on, she just grinned wider and her shoulders shook in a silent laugh.

“I can heeaaarr yoouu,” she sang. “Olly olly oxen freeeee!”

After being made, three men showed themselves by walking out from behind some buildings out from around fallen debris. Each one had a different weapon—a rifle, a thin Japanese sword, and an extremely large scythe—but Lyn was fairly certain they’d have guns as well. The men stopped and glared at Lyn, and she just cocked her to the side, giving all three a friendly smile. “Evening, gentlemen! Lovely weather, isn’t it?”

None commented, but the one with the rifle stepped up and cocked his weapon. “You’re going down, vampire bitch,” he declared aiming his rifle. Ah, it was too bad that hunters weren’t much for preamble. So many fun things to say to them, and no time to say them.

Lyn lifted a hand to her cheek and shrank visibly, holding her wrist with her other hand. “Oh you’re all big bullies! I’m not even armed!” she cooed, taking a step back. It didn’t seem to deter them at all, and she just figured her reputation preceded her; how else would these guys know she was a vampire unless they had done their research? She didn’t exactly keep herself hidden, after all, so it probably wouldn’t be hard for a hunter to peg her for what she was, but it was a reputation nonetheless, and that was what she cared about the most.

The man with the scythe stepped forward and glared at her. “I’ll take her,” he muttered, not waiting for permission before he launched himself at her, swinging the over-sized reaper blade. Lyn stood her ground, but didn’t make a single move before the blade was upon her. Her hand snapped up and blocked the blade short of her neck. A single metal band at her wrist held it at bay, dented from the impact but holding firm. Head bowed, hair falling over her shoulder, Lyn’s shoulders started to shake and when she lifted her head—cocked slightly to the side—she was grinning a toothy grin from ear to ear, her eyes wide open.

Her opponent glared angrily at her and shoved further forward, free arm lifting up to punch her, but she moved her head jerkily to the side and took a step forward, sliding her wrist along the blade until it met with the handle, and she grabbed a hold of it. “Eh heh heh heh!” she cackled, pushing off the ground with her foot and twisting to the side, wrenching the sickle from his grasp. The blade was roughly two-thirds of her height, but she held it with ease before bringing it around and slamming the dull side against the man’s back, sending him tumbling forward, skipping several meters across the ground like had skipped a rock on water.

“Ehh! He sure flew far!” she squealed, giggling madly to herself before turning to the other two men. Shots were fired, but the first missed and the second glanced across her stomach, droplets of her blood soaking her jacket and falling to the ground. Lyn merely turned around, still laughing, and took the time the man had to use to reload to run in front of him, appearing seemingly in an instant. She used her newly acquired weapon to hook the gun from his hands and then brought it back down on him.

The upper half of the third man’s blade flew through the air. He had come to his comrade’s aid, but it hadn’t worked out the way he wanted. Lyn cackled and slammed the pole into the ground, using it as a brace to lift both feet into the air and slam the soles of her heels into the gunman’s chest. When her heels didn’t go through, she figured he was wearing a vest, but he was sent to the ground in any case, while Lyn nearly vaulted back to the ground a few feet from the sword-user, who still seemed content to be using a jagged, broken sword.

Lyn staggered and swayed as she turned around, her arms moving limply with her movements, looking almost as if she was drunk. And still her laughing continued. “This is all?” she snickered, bending over at the waist for a second, her chest completely parallel with the ground before she lifted her head and cocked it to the side, her slasher’s grin painted all over her features. She stuck her tongue out at the man and loped forward in the same drunken manner, blade dragging across the ground.

Her opponent ran at her and thrust his half-sword with a fearsome yell. It stuck into her side and she slumped over slightly, head hung, but she continued to sway as if she was unbalanced, then her head snapped up and pushed herself further onto the blade. “Twist it! Dig in! Tear it off!” she shrieked, hooking her arms upward. The man gasped, and before he hit the ground his body split vertically in two.

Turning away from the body, front half covered with blood—some hers and some from the cleaved in half man—she tilted her head back and laughed a crazed guffaw, scythe dragging once more across the ground with each unbalanced stagger. The man she’s slammed the blade into first was suffering from a snapped spine, and the man she’d kicked was unconscious on the ground, having flown into the side of a building.

A hand lifted to her wound and, saturated with blood now, lifted to her lips. Each finger went in and came out, the last one smacking loudly. “Finger lickin good!”

Already the wounds were clotting, preparing themselves to heal.

Notes: um. so. she was attacked and kicked some ass? I guess. I dunno.

[MAL BLACKNEST]

-----------------------------------------

The sky... He could feel it, even if he couldn't see it. Clouds obscured it now. Clad in a simple white tee, and blue jeans, he padded barefoot across the roof of one of the empty warehouses that littered this area of the city. It was abandoned, but it still reeked of humans, of the fake materials that made it up. Of the plastics that would never degrade, and slowly poisoned the world, one tiny bit at a time. He wasn't an environmentalist, but he didn't like seeing the world dying in such a way. Far better to die quickly, than a prolonged, poisonous suffering. Sighing, Mal turned the other way, facing the lights of the city, the insomniac city, one that could never sleep. Horns blew, people yelled angrily, but it was just their way of life. He lifted the bottle in his hand, taking a deep swig from the biting liquor. As it burned its way down his throat, he grimaced, walking lightly across the rooftop, singing softly in Gaelic under his breath. ”Aililiú na gamhna, na gamhna, bána...” He continued, under his breath, habitually fingering the golden celtic necklace that hung from his neck.

But even the thoughts of home didn't help comfort him tonight. The problem was, really, that he didn't like crowded, noisy places. He disliked large cities, and was, therefore, at a loss to explain his reasoning for coming to New York. At least he had easily been able to get his hand on a bottle of whiskey. Good stuff, too, imported. It didn't have the nasty aftertaste that most American liquors did. He took another sip of it, stopping his song. It only made him think of home again, but he wasn't ready to go back there again. It had only been three years since the last time. What was there to see there, anyway? The graves of his mother and brother had long since faded back into the earth, though he could still find the exact location. No, he needed something new, something different. But what he had hoped to find here, he had no idea. He must have been absolutely hammered when he'd snuck onto that ship...

With a regretful sigh, he gathered himself, then leapt to the roof of the adjacent building, landing lightly. He really didn't have any destination in mind, but anything was better than just standing around. Perhaps he could find a nice, quiet little corner to curl up and take a nap, then just move on tomorrow. But he wasn't really even tired yet, all things considered. He took another swig from the bottle to calm his nerves. The one good thing about cities this size were that there were always plenty of scum, thieves, pickpockets, drug dealers... Well, admittedly, the druggies and their dealers weren't all that appetizing, as they tended to have some nasty stuff in them that always left him feeling a bit...queasy afterwards. Bums were just plain dirty, and they had...things... in places that were better left unmentioned. No, he'd rather stick to thieves and killers. They tended to wash up more than once a month. Their souls, however, were never clean. His own view on hunting was that the prey never really mattered. Morality had never been an overly large part of his life. The primary reason he hunted the outcasts of society was because they tended not to be missed. It had much more to do with practicality than with morality.

The problem was that he hadn't really eaten all that recently. The last time had been...a few months ago now, that he'd had a real meal. Not long enough for him to feel it, but he would before long. The soft spoken lycanthrope sighed again, lifting his nose into the night wind and inhaling, sifting through the canopy of scents. Out of the vast carpet that littered the air, one caught his attention, and he filtered it out, inhaling again. Blood on the wind. Close, recent... With a light rumble, he took off across the rooftops, bounding through the night, towards the scent, homing in upon it as it grew stronger and stronger. As he alit gently upon the final rooftop, however, a discrepancy in the scent caught his nose. It wasn't all human blood. There was a vampire here as well. Now, all things considered, that didn't really bother him. He had no quarrel with any vampires, provided that they didn't piss him off, and that wasn't easy to do.

Hopping lightly off the roof, he dropped the two story distance to the ground, landing silently on his bare feet. One hand casually in a pocket, the other swinging the half empty bottle, he made his way slowly towards the mess he already knew he would find. He did have to admire, however, the sheer variety of mayhem that he found there. Aside from the fact that they had all been injured in one way or another, one was cleanly in two pieces, a form of artistry that was hard to come across since the old times had gone. He stepped over to inspect one of the men, who was lying in a mess of shattered brickwork from where he had struck a building. Obvious concussion, internal bleeding, two broken ribs, one puncturing a lung... And his leg was bent at an odd angle. Alive...but not for long. Another lay on the ground, unable to move because of a spine now broken in two. Mal crushed his windpipe to stop him from moaning. ”Suaimhneas síoraí dó, stranger... I did not know you, but you will not suffer today...” The third man did not even need to be looked at. He was obviously dead.

Only after moving to each of the men in turn did Mal look up at the woman standing there, apparently reveling in the destruction she had caused. She was a vampire, certainly, and blood did happen to be their forte, but she did seem to be enjoying it a bit more than others. Approaching slowly, taking a drink from the bottle, Mal held up his hands, indicating that he meant no harm. He could still see the scythe where it lay, and felt no hurry to be the next one in its path. ”Lass, I assume you're the one that caused this wee...mess...?” His Irish accent slipped out, breaking through as he let it out, relaxing the guard he normally kept on his voice.
-----------------------------------------

[/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Gently chortling continued to come from Lyn as she staggered about, dragging the scythe behind her and creating shallow rivets in the loose dirt. She was just walking aimlessly in the general area of her kill, reveling in the delicious scent of blood, the sight of her kills—and the near-death individuals with fatal blows.

Then someone else showed up.

She ignored the presence for a while, still on a big high from the attack. Or the attempted attack. She had been minding her own business, after all! She was only acting in self-defense! Did it matter if she enjoyed it the whole time? It probably did in a court of law but she wasn’t in a court of law! So it didn’t matter! Whoever was there didn’t really say much about it. She heard him kill the poor spinal broken man. . . was that something about suffering and how he wasn’t going to today?

Slowly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she turned her head in a mechanical, twitchy way, eyes wide open and her shoulders shaking gently with the silent laughter building up in her chest. A werewolf. . . ? Or maybe just some mutt in disguise. . . she snickered. Was that a different language he was speaking. . . ? That’s what really caught her attention.

“Lass, I assume you're the one that caused this wee. . . mess. . . ?” the man tried to confirm, fully catching her attention as he addressed her.

Lass?

Lyn turned the rest of her body and cocked her head to the side, dragging the scythe in an arc as she pivoted, then she stumbled a step toward him. “Is that what you want to call it?” she said in a dreamy voice, hunched forward in horrible posture. “They caused it when they attacked me! I was merely acting in my own self-preservation kind of!” She giggled and took another step forward.

“What accent is that?” she asked, stepping a little closer and cocking her head to the other side.

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in the abandoned lot and having a grand old time chatting. My post also happens to be 342 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; :U hope you know what you've gotten into.

[MAL BLACKNEST]

-----------------------------------------

Blood. The scent of hit permeated the air and made the hair on his arms and legs stand on end. His eyes gleamed gold with hunger, before he forced them back to their standard emerald green hue. Still, the lingered on the flesh and blood of the man in two pieces, which still gleamed darkly, wetly, in the moonlight. Out of al the scent of death, the smells from that body were the strongest. He longed to tear into it, to polish it off to the bone, but he held himself in check. To take another's kill was the height of rudeness, at least as his mother had explained it, so long ago. First, one had to ask permission, but he was loath to do that with a person he did not know. Still it offered him an opportunity to feed without remorse, or fear of moral interruptions. Hunters were, at least, quite useful in that way. Social outcasts, by their own doing, attacking the other beings that inhabited the world. Foolishness. Did pgs attack the humans that fed on them? Did cows? What reason did the hunters have to feel justified in trying to kill beings, who, like them, merely wanted to live? Fools, succumbing to the human belief that they were the ultimate beings.

His eyes flashed gold again, but this time, did not recede to their original color. His canines lengthened slightly, but he easily kept the full transformation at bay. He despised hunters, hated them, for taking his family away from him, for forcing him to wander alone, all these years, avoiding his past, rather than embracing it. Filthy bastards, with a false view of their own morality. Men and woman who thought themselves strong, because they could kill the weakest and youngest of the turned. The feral creatures who never regained their sentience. But occasionally, the hunters were lucky, as had been the case with his family. Killed in their sleep, whilst he wandered alone, foraging for supplies. He had found those men, and hunted them, and killed them, feasting upon their hypocritical flesh. Weaklings, fools, sneaks. So he killed them, and fled his home, only stopping to perform his own final rites for his mother and brother.

So, no, he felt no remorse for these men. It was simply his way to kill them quickly. For hunters, he comforted himself by saying that he simply didn' want to hear their overly righteous moaning. In this case, the hunters had simply chosen the wrong prey. This vampire... She enjoyed inflicting pain, he could smell it on her. It wasn't uncommon in vampires, who didn't require their prey to be dead before they fed upon them. She smelled like blood, and suffering. The blood was hers, a sweet, sticky smell, that tantalized his nose. The pain was not. Mal took a few steps closer, his eyes drifting away from the scythe in her hand to her face, her body, the wound already healing in her side. Attractive, and the blood added a tinge of excitement, but such thoughts weren't important at this time. His body longed to rend flesh, to tear into it with his teeth, to finish it to the bones. He shivered slightly at the compulsion. But he had an opportunity. She would only be interested in the blood. Still, he should ask, if only for politeness' sake.

When he spoke, his voice was deeper than it had been, with a feral harshness buried in the tone. ”Aye, I understand the fact that 'twas them who began the trouble. It's hard to overlook, however, the obvious truth. That you were the one who finished it.” He raised the bottle in his hand and took a drink. ”Now, don't get me wrong. I couldn't give less of a shit about these feckin' bastards. I don't like hunters. Nor do I care overly what you do with them.” He glanced over at her again, considering her question. ”Of course, it's polite to introduce myself. I'm Mal. The accent you hear, since you ask, is Irish. Born and raised in that land.”

Unconsciously, he fingered the pendant around his neck. It calmed him down slightly, and his voice lost some of it's harshness. It was softer, calmer, though his eyes still shone gold. ” However, since I hate to see wasted food, might I ask of you a wee favor? You see, of late, I've been a bit hungry. Now, since your kind only has an interest in the blood, can I partake of the meat? It's not like me to scrounge, but when I find a meal so easily taken, it's hard for me to ignore it...” He was moving forward slowly, now only a foot or so from the girl. His body was relaxed, but his mind was tense, holding itself back, caging the animal within. Long ago, he had learned to control it, and now, it was a constant, barely requiring any thought. Long experience was certainly a boon in that respect....
-----------------------------------------

[/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Taking another unbalanced step forward—yet still somehow managing not to fall over despite the fact that she was acting kinda drunk—Lyn stopped before taking another step, back leg still in the air, and she looked back and forth between the three dead men who had attempted to take her life. Ha! Attempted. An overstatement!

She giggled fitfully and adopted an incredibly smug look on her face. “I did finish it, didn’t I? Ehehehehe!”

For some reason she started using a rather. . . horribly fake Irish accent.

“Ehh? You don’t care?” she echoed, seeming to pout for a second as she straightened her back and miraculously regained her balance, bringing the scythe smoothly up to rest on her shoulder, her free hand resting on her hips. “And ‘ere I thought I was going to get to have some more fun! Maybe get to listen to the moral ramblings of a self-righteous do-gooder!” Lyn giggled, lips drawn back in a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Mal!” she said slowly, rolling the name on her tongue for a moment as if it was a tasty treat. “Most likely short for Malcom! Bet your mum watched a lot of Malcom in the Middle, didn’t she!” She crowed loudly at her own little joke.

A pleasant surprise came to her in the form of a request, and she just smiled wider. He was asking her for her kills! Aha! Great! Just great! Must not have been her imagination telling her this man was a werewolf! How polite of the giant wolfy to ask her if he could intrude on her kills. The pink-haired vampire swung the wickedly-curved blade off her shoulder and let it drop to the ground, the blade sticking upright as she let go of the handle.

“Aye, wee lad! Take the corpses! They’re no good to me all dead and corpsey, eh?” she snickered.

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in the abandoned lot and having a grand old time chatting. My post also happens to be 313 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; *secretly wishes he'll shift*

[MAL BLACKNEST]

-----------------------------------------

Mal raised an eyebrow slightly at the girl's antics. She was acting almost drunk, though he had much more reason to act like that than she did. More and more, he was almost beginning to regret interrupting her little show. But behind it all, he was really beginning to succumb to the hunger enough to stop caring what her problem was. It was probably some form of psychosis. It wasn't uncommon among immortals, to succumb to the reality that everyday life was going to last forever, and get a little...odd, because of it. In fact, now that he thought about it, he really hadn't met many that acted completely...normal. Even he had his occasional monster under the bed. One or two of which really didn't bear thinking about for more than a few minutes before the shudders came back. Even now, that one time in Egypt still made him grimace to remember it. The only issue was that some immortals let their 'crazy' out a bit more visibly than others. Like this girl... She seemed to get a little...tipsy with the presence of blood. And then... a little psycho...

But he couldn't blame her. With the hunger coming on, he was capable of...terrible things. Well, terrible in a certain light. To certain people. To this girl, it would probably be like dinner and a show, all in one night. And that was fine with him, admittedly. At least that way, they could both enjoy themselves tonight. She did seem the sort, oddly enough, that might enjoy the sight of him eating. Perhaps he would be able to indulge his most animalistic tendencies for once. The way she seemed to go a bit.. loopy at the sight of blood, he was sure she'd enjoy herself if he did. He felt the beast shifting under his skin, and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck. In due time, he could let it out, let it free, uncage it. It was waiting, patiently, but it was beginning to pace back and forth. It smelled the blood through his nose. It was hungry, because he was hungry. It was him, his other side, his animal side. His wild side. And sometimes... he just had to let it run free.

Still, he was brought back to himself as she started to speak again, wincing visibly at her absolutely horrendous accent. It sounded like a mix of Cockney, Australian, and most of all, American. He did have to laugh inside, however, at the words 'self-righteous do-gooder'. In fact, he had taken that role upon himself from time to time, especially when it came to younger were's that didn't yet have the ability to control themselves fully. His grin, however, was quickly dimmed when she mentioned his mother, an unconscious snarl echoing from deep in his chest. His hair rippled for a second, shifting from black to white, but he had already let go of the leash. Muscles bulged under his skin, and audible cracks sounded as bones grew and shifted to different positions. He had the common sense to remove his duster before the shift could rip it, but there was no hope for his jeans or his shirt, which tore to pieces, the threads scattering to the ground. Now transformed, his huge white lupine form shifted slightly. It wasn't fully a wolf, for it still stood on two legs, and the forelegs still had the shape of arms. The forepaws still had opposable digits, and between two claws, the bottle of whiskey swung. A feral grin was spread across the lupine features, with two luminous golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight. With a casual, easy gesture, he swung the bottle up, draining the rest in one gulp before slinging it away, where it flew across the lot and smashed into a lampost, shattering into pieces.

With a luxurious stretch, Mal rolled his neck, removing the last of the stiffness. He spoke, his voice deep and rumbling, echoing up from a chest fully twice the size it had been before. ”Girlie, I will make one suggestion to you, and I recommend that you heed it. Never, ever, mention anything about my family again. I am grateful to you, for sharing, but there are just some things that I will not stand for. One of those things is any mention, at all, of my family.” He took a deep breath, scratching his forehead with one claw. Only one thing of his clothing had remained, the golden pendant, which still hung around his neck, though on a considerably tighter chain. He touched it once, lightly, before looking back at the girl, his grin deepening, eyes growing darker. Then, without a second thought, he reached back behind him, grabbing one of the halves of the man she had cut in two, tearing off a large chunk with his teeth and swallowing, savoring the warm, meaty taste.
-----------------------------------------

[/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Ohhhh something seemed to have upset him! Lyn couldn’t help but giggle and then just watch with a huge grin plastered all over her face, eyes wide as if she was a small child seeing something amazing for the first time—and that was kind of what was happening. Inside Lyn was just one giant rebellious child who loved to have fun. Violent fun.

Where there once stood a man, there was now a big. Fluffy. Cuddly. Wolfy.

She didn’t know what she’d done to upset him, but she was now extremely glad that she had. Actually, it could have been a number of things, but that was the fun of it!

Bouncing from foot to foot, Lyn squealed happily and clapped her hands quickly and loudly, the sound echoing across the empty lot. Stopping abruptly, she turned to the side and pointed dramatically at the big wolf. “Now that is something powerful and awesome! I wish I could do that! Turn into a giant wolf and eat everyone and destroy stuff and scare people and get on the news and blame it on rabid dogs and then eat more people and set stuff on fire!”

Pausing for a second, she giggled and touched the same index finger used to point at the wolf to touch her lips. “Oh wait. I do that anyway! Hehehehe!”

“Girlie, I will make one suggestion to you, and I recommend that you heed it. Never, ever, mention anything about my family again. I am grateful to you, for sharing, but there are just some things that I will not stand for. One of those things is any mention, at all, of my family,” the wolf warned. Strange! It was talking with its mouth and she understood it!

Could she speak wolf now?

She could speak wolf now.

Awesome.

Her eyes glittered mischievously and her smile widened into a toothy grin, possibly even bigger than the Cheshire Cat. It slowly started to turn a little crazed and she clasped her hands together loudly. Why? What was her gonna do? Claw her? Bite her? Bark at her? All of the above? Oh pretty little pictures danced across her mind and she got all hot under the collar even thinking about it!

“Ohhh? You mean like. . . about your father and your mother? Your siblings? I bet they’re all dead now, aren’t they? Six feet under, pushing up daisies, dead as a door knob? Did they buy the farm? Maybe they’re up the river and sleeping with the fishes? I’m sure it was nice bucket they kicked! Hope that dust they bit taste good!” she said, growing louder and louder as she cocked her head to the side, eyes wide as her toothy grin.

She just loved doing stuff she wasn't supposed to do.

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in the abandoned lot and having a grand old time taunting each other. My post also happens to be 468 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; Lol you shouldn't tell Lyn not to do something. =P

[MAL BLACKNEST]

-----------------------------------------

So. That explained a lot. She seemed to enjoy others' discomfort, their annoyance. That was going to be agitating, to say the least. She was just like a child, almost innocently so, aside from the bloodlust that she seemed to be endlessly letting off. He pondered her with one gleaming golden eye as he tore a leg from its socket with an audible pop, gnawing the meat from the bone. The fur around his mouth was stained red with blood, as were his two 'hands'. He couldn't help but give an amused chuckle at her exuberance, even if the things that came to her mind did seem a bit... excessive. It was no wonder the hunters had been able to track her so easily, for she didn't seem like one who really understood subtlety. Then again, she didn't smell very old. Less than a century, anyway. Plus, she was a turnling, not a descendant. She hadn't been born immortal. So it was obvious to him that something in her previous life had broken her mind, leastways so much as it had been broken. She seemed to have lost some of her ability to tell right from wrong. To her, apparently, there was justification for anything. A dangerous mindset. With that in mind, along with her seeming ability to take everything as a joke, there were very few ways he could think of to get her to stop. At least now, she'd dropped the horrendous accent. He spat out a ribcage, glowing eerily in the moonlight.

Tossing aside the now empty bones, he turned back to the girl, his padded footpaws making no sound on the pavement. She seemed tiny now, even more like a child than before. Even her shockingly pink hair added to the youth of the whole image. Tiny. Small. Unfortunately, she just didn't be able to seem to want to shut up. Annoying. He irritably scratched a claw on the pavement, leaving a trail of sparks. Then he rose, moving over to where the discarded scythe lay. Hooking two fingers under it, he plucked it from the ground, holding it up to inspect it. Who was it, he wondered, who had first gotten the idea to turn a harvesting tool into a weapon? Impractical, requiring far too much excessive movement for each attack. Quite obviously European in origin. With a resonating sigh, he took the blade between two his two hands and gave it a sharp twist, snapping it off. Taking the handle, he broke it easily, then tossed both handle and blade away. Useless pieces of shite. Not worth preserving.

It was only then that he heard her voice again, speaking the words that he had all but expected her to say. Stupid youngling. Little turnling...Bloody bitch. He wasn't calm. Not any more. She just had to keep pushing, didn't she. That, and she was surprisingly adept at getting under his skin, pushing his buttons. Not that his buttons were hard to figure out. They consisted mainly of his family. Now that she'd figured it out, however, she really didn't seem to be able to let it go. He knew he wouldn't be able to persuade her, either. But she kept going on and on, with endless different names for death. His fur rippled irritably. Then, at 'dust they bit', he snapped. With a deep snarl, he lifted her like a doll with one hand and pressed her into a wall.

His eyes had gone past gold, and they glowed red, matching the color of his teeth and muzzle as he pressed his face into her vision. ”You have quite the way of pissing people off, little bat. But you are a young little girl, and a turnling. You don't know me. Don't pretend to. I suppose you enjoy yourself, killing and slaughtering, laughing your way through life with a bloody smile on your face? Good. Great for you. But leave me the fuck out of it.” He let her go, turning away, stepping on another body and crushing it beneath his foot, ignoring the warm mass that spilled across the ground.
-----------------------------------------

[/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Lyn watched with a morbid and amused fascination as the werewolf ate the corpses she’d left behind. So that’s what people looked like on the inside! She wished she could get a better, closer look, but she definitely thought it was better to watch from a distance in order to fully appreciate the art of someone getting eaten. He wasn’t the cleanest eater, but it definitely wouldn’t have been any fun if he was!

Oh ho ho ho he seemed to have upset him further! It made her giggle on the inside—and the outside—and she just grinned wider and wider as he got madder and madder. His display of breaking the scythe she’d stolen from one of the hunters did nothing but entertain her further and she clapped her hands happily. “Ooh! What big arms you have~” she cooed, clasping her hands by her cheek and batting her mascara-laden eyelashes at the werewolf like some big flirt. This night just kept getting better and better! Attacked by three hunters and now the big bad wolf!

When he charged her, she did nothing but squeal happily—a sound that very well could have been mistaken as a squeal of fear—and then grunt as she slammed against the wall. . . and was that a moan directly after. . . ? It sure sounded like it was. “Ooh hoo hoo! Please, do it again!” she sighed, trembling not out of fear but excitement.

His speech was quite intimidating! Had it been any other person, they might have been shaking by now, feeling a tad bit regretful for pissing off a big werewolf, but the grin never once left Lyn’s face, her eyes wide and sparkling with mischief and the endless possibilities of all kinds of fun she could have with this wolf! Such easily angered. . . so eager to show off his strength and throw his weight around. . . how hard he tried to scare her into doing what he wanted!

Pinch her, she much be dreaming!

“Oh my! What big teeth you have!” she managed to slip out before she was dropped to the ground. Not the most graceful of all vampires, she hit the ground and then fell over on her side, giggling fitfully.

Then, she rolled over on to her back, scrambled to her feet and guffawed “HA! Oh, my god! The look on your face right now, and back there. . . . It was hi-LARIOUS!” Puffing out her chest and lifting her arms up in some attempt to look like a macho man, she did her best to deepen her voice and then furrowed her brows into a fake angry glare. “Great for you. But leave me out of it!” she mocked, clearly not heeding a single word of what he said.

Wiping an imaginary tear from her eye, she sighed loudly. “Oohhh. Silly wolf. Trix are for kids!”

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in the abandoned lot and having a grand old time taunting each other. My post also happens to be 487 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; X3 I love Lyn.

[MAL BLACKNEST]

I Can See The Darkness Inside...

[/u]
-----------------------------------------

Mal scraped his foot irritably on the pavement, smearing off the blood and organ bits. It wasn't like him, to get this irritated. His eyes shifted upwards towards the sky, flicking amongst the stars. Almost immediately, he felt his heart calming. He had fed. He was no longer hungry for the taste of flesh. The past was the past again, five hundred years ago, before the vast majority of people on the planet had even been born. There were, of course, always the odd immortal here and there, but few as old as him. And many younger. Younger, and turned. Slowly, day by day, the humans had forgotten about the old stories, the old truths. They'd lost the knowledge of the other side of life, the darker side. The animal side. And they still struggled to catch up. It was sad, the way that they lost their history, and he couldn't seem to forget his. His past, still tightly connected to his present. And so it would be, on into the future. He touched the golden pendant with a single claw lightly, letting out a deep sigh. Sometimes, you had to take the bad things that life gave you, even if they never seemed to end. And though they were painful to bear, in the end, there was almost certainly something that would make it all worth it. Whether it was an item... Or just a memory.

Slowly, his eyes faded back to emerald green again, and he shifted, his gaze resting on the moon. The sky seemed so...sad tonight. The moon was crying. Not literally, of course, but there was something in the glow of it's light. Something he only seemed to find in America. It was a sad country, it seemed. There was always someone sobbing in the night. Slowly, his body began shrinking back in on itself, the fur receding back into the skin, bones popping and contracting back into his human shape, as the teeth in his mouth shrunk back to their normal size. It took only a few moments, before he was standing there, human again, albeit naked. Completely ignoring the girl, he took a few steps over to his discarded coat, unzipping a hidden pack built into the back. He pulled out a spare set of clothes and slipped them on, then pulled the duster on over his shoulders. It settled easily down to his ankles, and it's familiar weight comforted him, letting him relax slightly, though he still fingered the golden pendant, tracing its familiar shape.

Finally, he turned to the girl, green eyes regarding her almost sadly. It was easy for him to forget she was there, especially after the things she had said, but he had never been the type to do something quite so... immature. With a subtle motion, he kicked the item at his feet upwards, catching the broken sword by the handle. Most people would have used something a bit more...modern than a sword, or a scythe, admittedly, and he almost respected the three dead hunters their bravery for attempting to take on a vampire armed with weaponry that was outdated in these times. They weren't like the hunters of old, who had grown up with swords and bows, using them daily, raised by their parents to hate the immortals that might one day feed upon them. They had fought and practiced daily, allowing their weapons to become an extension of themselves, unlike these three, who only used the older weapons because it was tradition, and it felt 'right' to them. The idiots... There had been a time, long ago, when he too had wielded these sorts of weapons, back when rage had fueled his movement.

His voice low, he spoke for the first time in minutes, breaking his silence. ”Girl. Youngling. I thank you, for sharing the meal. I also thank you, for showing me that I was wrong. Anger doesn't solve anything. Unless you have anything else to say, or anything else to do, we are done... Are we not?”
-----------------------------------------
And I Fight It Every Day

[/u]
[/center][/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Giggling quietly to herself and not really bothering to get on her feet—instead she just rolled to her stomach and lifting her feet in the air, crossing them at the ankle and propping herself up on her elbows, chin cupped in her palms as she regarded the wolf curiously, watching him enter into his own little world of whatever. . . world. . . wolves go to. And stuff.

Kicking her legs slightly in the air, she watched in awe as the wolf changed back into a man and proceeded to dress himself once again, to which she responded, “Aww you don’t need to get decent in front of little old me~” with an immature giggle as she rolled over onto her back and looked up at him from her upside down perspective. It was just her and him out there in the middle of nowhere! She thought shifters lost their sense of modesty after a little while? Guess some still retained a little bit of sense about them!

She was pleasantly surprised when the man addressed her again. She had been afraid that she’d have to get his attention the hard way, but it seemed she still effortlessly held people’s attention most of the time!

Clearing her throat, Lyn scrambled to her feet and brushed off her clothes. “Well I am most certainly very glad that I was able to teach you such a valuable lesson, young man! I do hope you’ll carry such an important note to your children and everywhere you go in the future!” Playful sarcasm was laced in with her words, and she smiled at the man.

“I don’t know. . . are we done here, Lambchop?”

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in a lot and having a grand old time teasing the poor guy. My post also happens to be 283 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; Lol so sarcastic.

[MAL BLACKNEST]

I Can See The Darkness Inside...

[/u]
-----------------------------------------

Mal wasn't going to rise to her jabs, not this time. Never again, if he had anything to say about it. He understood now, her personality and the way she wielded it like a weapon. Then again, he supposed, everything was a weapon to her, from the sword and scythe he'd discarded, to the rapier like prick of her tongue. For just a second, he entertained the notion of discarding her tongue as well. Surely it wouldn't be so difficult to grab it, given the amount of time she spent using it. His hand stiffened slightly as he thought about it, then relaxed again. It would do no lasting good. She'd re-grow it eventually, and move on to harass another person. There was no way that she would allow herself to be taught. After all, to her, there was no such thing as an important lesson, right? Well, even if that was true, there was always something to do, wasn't there? He smiled unconsciously. Even if physical pain would do nothing, was there a way he could hurt her mentally? Find some scars in her past that she had buried, see if he could peel them back a bit? After all, he had made a living for five years once as a psychologist in miami... Not that it had been very interesting, listening to the everyday human problems...

He looked down at her, his gaze neutral and calculating. First, he had to find some crack in her personality, which would give him perhaps a clue as to the origin of her current instability. But how to start, that was the conundrum. A slight grin spread over his face. Perhaps, even if he didn't end up learning anything, he might have a little bit of fun. Excitement was the spice of life, after all, and this was certainly a change from his normally dull, boring, mundane existence. How to start, how to start.... Her words gave him the first idea. "Oh? You don't mind then? Well, if that's the case, I suppose I should just...ah, do this!" His clothes came off again, but he wasn't embarrassed, or modest. He didn't flinch or hide himself behind anything. In fact, he didn't change anything at all, simply standing there naked, the clothes discarded in a pile on the pavement. No scars shone pale on his body, for he had always been a lycan, wounds healing over clean. Toned muscles were visible everywhere, though not from any workout routine. His daily life simply kept him fit and in shape, and it was easily visible on his body.

Grin more pronounced now, he laughed at her, as she brushed off her clothes. Of course, he never meant to have children, and of course, she was being sarcastic, but in the role he had now shifted himself into, anything was a joke, right? The grin widened, showing his pronounced canines as he leaned in towards her, a speculative look on his face. "Hmmmm..." He voiced out loud, tilting his head slightly to the side. "If a lambchop am I, what are you? A question, a question, but does it have an answer? You suck blood, yes? Yes..." He closed the distance between them suddenly, finger darting out to brush against the damp spot on her clothes where some of her blood had not yet dried, even though the wound had already closed. Touching the finger to his mouth, he tasted it, then pulled a face. "Salty, salty...like the sea. Like the sea and the seaweed and the fishes, yes..." A concentrated look came onto his face, as if he was thinking deeply about something, then his finger darted out again to tilt her chin upwards as he moved to examine her face.

Suddenly, he jabbed a finger at her with a cry. "I have it! Not lamb or pork are you, pinky! Nono, you are fish! Swordfish, to be exact. Sharp, painful...and your nose is a little....pointy! But more than that, you enjoy swords, do you not?" He nodded sagely, as if pleased with himself, then stroked his chin pensively, reaching out playfully to squeeze one of her breasts. "Unfortunately, there seems to be a few too many soft parts on you....troubling, troubling... But what should we do, hmm? For the sake of fairness, modesty I have not, yet you seem to retain your ridiculous garments, pinky. Troubling, yes...unfair...why are you unfair?"
-----------------------------------------
And I Fight It Every Day

[/u][/size]
[/center][/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

Another shift in personality made Lyn even more intrigued! First minute he was being polite and perfectly reasonably, the next he was turning into a big fluffy wolf and snarling at her, and then the next he was polite and perfectly reasonable. . . and now this! Stripping naked in front of her! Either he was up to something or. . . well she couldn’t think of an or!

“D’aww! Is somebody a wittle bitty bipolar?” she cooed in baby-talk, leaning forward to rest a hand on her knees while the other hand lifted, her index finger bending in and out as if she was trying to amuse a little giggling infant. “Huhhh? Is you? Isja bitty bipolar!”

She giggled and straightened up, covering her mouth and shifting from foot to foot like a giddy little school girl. “I can see your weeiiinnneerrr~” she sang immaturely, barking out some laughter afterwards, her arms wrapping around her stomach as if to keep her sides from splitting as she doubled over and just guffawed away for a good ten seconds before straightening up and stopping as abruptly as she’d started. Cheshire Cat grin finding its way back to her face.

Lyn didn’t move away or flinch as he came closer, or really respond at all except to look at him with a bright, more innocent smile with her head cocked as she was examined like some piece of meat. But that fine! Let him get as close a look at her as he wanted! She knew she looked gooood! Even as he continued to speak, thinking aloud to himself, the vampire just watched him with a bright smile, interested to see where this all was going to go! What was he up to? Would he try to get revenge? Tee-hee! It was too good to think about!

“Swordfish? That’s the name of a movie!” she piped up as if she had just had some sort of epiphany, her expression bright and her mouth wide open in the happiest little smile she could manage. “Swords, cleavers, chainsaws, knives, blunt objects. . . I like them all!” Cocking her head to the side, eyes closed for a moment.

They didn’t open when he proceeded to grope her, and nor did she react adversely except to giggle to herself. Oh so he wanted her to take her clothes off too now, did he? She slowly opened her eyes and her grin turned a little more devious for a moment. Lifting an index finger and placing her other hand on her hip, she pointed the finger at his little nose and rotated it in little circles. “Who ever said anything about being fair?” she giggled.

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in a lot and having a grand old time shooting the breeze. My post also happens to be 449 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; It's not gonna woooork~

[MAL BLACKNEST]

The Darkness Inside Beckons...

[/u]
-----------------------------------------

She was right, the logical part of his mind thought, back where he had locked it away. He was acting a bit bipolar. Then again, all weres were bipolar when you thought about it. The older ones just had less of a tendency to let the animal run wild. Even now, he wasn't really letting out, more taking it for a walk, keeping a loose leash on it at all times. The baby talk wasn't really necessary though, though it did seem to fit in with her personality. Just another big joke. Still, it fit in well with his animal side, which always seemed to bear a wicked grin in its cage. So his reason took a step back, his logic and serious demeanor following it. That being said, yes, she could see everything about him, but no, he really didn't give a shit. Not the part in control anyway, and he was the one giving it dominance for the time being. He still reserved the right to walk away, and he doubted she'd remember him for much more than a few minutes if he did.

His eyes glimmered back to golden as he walked in a slow circle around her, lightly pressing her wiggling finger out of the way. So, she didn't play fair. That was all well and good. She did have spirit, energy, verve...all that. Damn young, too... Less than a hundred years spent walking this earth. She didn't smell like she'd ever left America, either. At least not to anywhere he'd been, and he'd traveled across most of the world. But that didn't mean anything, really. She was just inexperienced. She did have a tendency of annoying people, it seemed, immortal or no. A magnet for trouble, and a bit of a masochist, so it really didn't bother her. Well, if pain was pleasure, then it would be so much easier for him to deliver it to her. It might even make him feel better, too. After all, it wouldn't kill her, not easily. Vampires were a bit tough to kill, unless you simply walked away with their heads, and even then they could bite you in the ass. Quite literally, in some cases. Besides, he wasn't planning to tear her head off. At that point, she might fight back, even if she didn't mean to.

Stopping behind her, his hand darted out suddenly, seizing her hair at the base and lifting upward powerfully, holding her off the ground by her hair and allowing her to rotate slightly to face him, extending a finger with a nail that had lengthened, tracing it along the pale skin of her neck. "You're right. The idea of fair play was never introduced, little pink. I am sorry, however, but it seems that I like the idea of evening the playing field. After all, a game is never truly fun unless both sides have an advantage of their own." The claw dropped slightly, to trace along the top of her garment. His eyes didn't leave hers. "I am simply wondering however. Should my advantage be to strip you to match? Or should I draw something beautiful in your skin... Some considered me an artist, a long time ago..." The tip of the claw pricked the skin, puncturing it slightly below her neck. Ah, decisions, decisions... His wolf side grinned in the moonlight. Perhaps this little pink could help him choose...
-----------------------------------------
Why Can't I Just Walk Away?

[/u]
[/center][/blockquote]

[Lynette Adelaide Keeler]

there's more than meets the eye

symbolic woman sits on her throne but hate strips her and

She dropped her hand when he pushed it aside, circling her like a shark. If it were anyone else they might have been intimidated or put off by it, but Lyn wasn’t anyone else. Her grin ever left her face and she didn’t even bother turning to see where he was. Surprise attack from behind? Bring it on! She wasn’t some paranoid woman who always needed to watch her back. She often turned her back on foes just to prod at them further. Entice them to take the opening. . . .

Lyn gave a light “Eep!” followed by a giggle as she was picked up by her hair. Lycans! They were so strong~ She tucked her knees up and let her arms fold by her chest, taking the form of a rather pathetic rabbit that had just gotten pulled out of a hat. The pressure on her skull from having her hair tugged at was present, but she ignored it like she ignored every other type of pain in the world, knowing full well that she could withstand anything this big bad wolf could throw at her and then some! She rotated slowly in the air, grinning and just hanging out.

What fun would it be if she wiggled her way out of this? She was more than able to, but this was more interesting!

She listened quietly—except for the occasional giggle that made him tug on her hair with the slight shifting of her weight caused by the action of irregular intake of breath that was known as giggling—and had he not have a hold of her hair she would have cocked her head to the side. Evening the playing field? “What game are we playing?” she asked in a sweet, sing-song voice.

His claw broke a tad bit of skin and blood already rose to the wound, but it stopped as quickly as it started, her enhanced healing system already taking care of it a few seconds after it was created. It was the only thing that Lyn could have lived without in her new life, but it had proven itself useful on a few occasions. The healing was not a factor for her risk-taking and haphazard approach at life: no she was like that even before she had been turned into the creature that she was now. In fact, it had been the reason she had been turned in the first place.

“Baby, you got the keys. . . . Shut up and drive,” she bated with a smile, using her abs to swing herself forward a little ways in an attempt to get a little closer to him. The words had been spoken softly, like a true seductress, but her next words threw that idea completely out the window and into a deep river. “Of course you’re aware that it’s like, the law that if we’re both naked and in the same vicinity we have to have sex!”

a cage for every unclean spirit every dirty bird

well hey there! this wonderful thread is tagged for the magnificent Mal! he and Lyn are hanging out in a lot and having a grand old time shooting the breeze. My post also happens to be 495 words in length! Like this template? Well I'm the one who coded it! Don't steal it! Oh wait, one more thing; She's so forward. XD