Shadows of the Past (Ana)

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

There was something about the snow that always hypnotised Urjasz. Whether it was in the country or in the city, it somehow managed to entirely change the look of a place. The cold air revealed itself as he slowly breathed in the darkness, looking out across the city. New York. How many times would he end up here in his life he wondered to himself. In a long life he had travelled the world and seen different places yet somehow he always ended up being drawn to this new born city. To the humans it was a long established city, to the immortals it was a child in the world of culture. Flicking some ash from the end of a cigar, he lifted it to his mouth and inhaled. Slowly the window appeared to freeze as he blew out onto it. Small amounts drifted down past his clean suit to the floor, settling with the ash of a previous cigar. Pulling back his sleeve, he took a quick glance at the time and finished his cigar.

Zack Darsch opened his door and placed a suitcase besides the door. A normal human who happened to sell guns. Tapping the light switch, he half stepped before moving back to the switch. Flicking it back and forth, he looked up at the dead bulb and sighed. Find his way to the kitchen in the dark, he found the draw with spare bits in it and felt around for the bulb boxes. Glancing up, he saw a shrinking breath mark on the window and he stumbled back slightly. Moving towards it, he didn't take his eyes off it until he trod in what he believed to be cigar ash. Taking a gun from his jacket, he moved towards the bedroom and felt the switch there too. Nothing. As he tried to find his way towards the bathroom, the main light turned on and he froze in his steps. Slowly turning around, he headed back the way he came and noticed the window was now open. Aware that it may be a trap, he dropped against the wall and slowly made his way towards it....

The tap began to sprinkle the first droplets of water and the clear liquid was soon awash with the colour of blood. Washing his hands calmly, Urjasz looked back at the body that now lay on the floor. It hadn't been much of a struggle. A quick blade to the throat followed by a powerful upward thrust of sword soon ended the human's life. Under the body were cracks in the laminated wood from were he had been slammed down over the shoulder of Urjasz as he picked him up with the sword. Washing the blades too, he took his time and perfectly cleaned everything. Closing the door behind him, he made his way towards the roof. Once there, he gave a loud whilst to the skies and stood on the edge, arms out stretched. Within seconds he was in the sky, being carried across the city by Malakai. Signalling towards a large building in the distance, he was swiftly dropped off at the top of it.

Thanking Malakai, he made sure all of his weapons were concealed and climbed in through an open window. Brushing snow from his clean suit he quickly made his way to a lift and looked at the floor names. Scrolling down, he came across the one he knew she'd be in. The bar. Information gathering was never too hard to Urjasz and intel suggested that Anastasia, old friend of Urjasz, would be there. Not much of the drinker, but as social as she would get in a building designed for parties. As the lift doors opened, he was hit with the smell of so many species packed into one floor. Each knew each other was there. One of the few truly neutral places left in the world. As he entered, a few looked over, others made their way out the area and some hardly looked. Those who knew him made sure to hang back. Standing in the middle of the room, he began the search.

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

How many people had offered to buy her a drink now?

“Ah. . . no, thanks. I don’t. . . I don’t drink,” she replied shifting uncomfortably in her seat, smiling at yet another would-be suitor. Not one for hanging out at bars, she wasn’t used to having people come up and hit on her. She wasn’t having a terrible time sitting at a table full of guys—of several different species. Anastasia was laughing and enjoying herself with just a glass of soda, but she was still slightly uncomfortable.

She probably wouldn’t have even been there if one of the Novosi hadn’t told her she needed to get out more. Well. Him and just about everyone who talked to her. Ginny included. Did she really seem that miserable?

Excusing herself for a moment, Anastasia got up, bringing her drink with her (she might not be used to this sort of scene but she’d seen enough movies and specials on TV that she shouldn’t leave her drink anywhere where someone can just drop something in it) and just maneuvered through the crowd, trying to find someplace for a piece of peace and quiet. This was why she didn’t come to places like this. It was loud and obnoxious everywhere and there were so many people. . . . People she didn’t know. She couldn’t even remember the guys’ names at the table.

The bathroom seemed to be the only reprieve, and she just stood by the sinks for a moment, sipping quietly at her drink. The thump of the music could still be heard through the walls, but at least she wasn’t right in the middle of it. Already she could feel a headache growing in the back of her head and she pulled a bottle of aspirin from her pocket, swallowing a few of them with a drink of her soda. It was a preemptive measure, but she didn’t know how long she was going to stay at this place anyway.

She didn’t even know how long she’d been there already.

Just to give herself a few more moments, she looked at her phone and tried to decide how long she’d been there. An hour and a half, probably. Anastasia sighed and slipped it back in her phone before heading back out: she’d told those guys she’d be back, hadn’t she? They’d be upset if she just disappeared on them. . . .

“Sorry,” she muttered, sitting back down in her seat and throwing them a smile. Oh, what a curse it was to be smaller than everyone and adorable. Why was it that small things were automatically cute? At least she was welcomed back cheers. They were probably on their way to getting drunk.

Anastasia just smiled as she swept back up into the conversation. She was about sixty percent sure they weren’t human—she was getting better and better every day at making humans and non-humans—but they weren’t bad people. It was. . . refreshing, being around some guys that weren’t trying to kill or otherwise take advantage of her.

Notes: hurray! I missed you!

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

(Bare with me if this isn't great, my muse was awesome and then when the post was wiped it's all like meh now lol)

With the controlled blink of an eye, the world around him froze for a second. As it did, a wave of yellow rippled from Urjasz and covered everyone in sight with its colour. Once it was done, the world resumed its normal speed and everyones true colours began to show. No one would have seen the wave of colour as it was something that only Urjasz would see when he switched sights. An old trick that revealed a person's true species. Black shadows slinked through the crowd as the vampiric species, tainted blood figures moved in groups as the bloody thirsty wolves and between them the pure white shell of a the innocent humans, easily tainted by the world around them. Amongst all of them were hundreds of other colour variants, each unique to each species. A trail of colour streamed from them all like a plane's jet steam, lasting only a few seconds but always clinging to the host.

Making his way to the bar, he noticed a raven sat above it and once it saw him it flew across the room, landing at the end of a full table. Shifting back to his human form, the raven sat beside a familar face. Anastasia was here. And joined by the Novosi as well, who at first glance seemed to be having a night out. However doted around the room were other Novosi who were clearly working as protection. Ordering a whiskey, Urjasz turned and faced the table as the raven whispered into Anastasia's ear and pointed over to Urjasz. Meeting eyes with Anastasia, he was aware of how long it had been since she had last seen him. He could not even recall what their last conversation had been about. So much had happened in that time. So much history had corrected itself. Zakhar's son had been found. Alive.

Taking the glass of whiskey, Urjasz broke his gaze from Anastasia and made his way across the room. Despite the movement, he was moving away from Anastasia. A cold drink and the smell of legal drugs on her suggested to him that she was not at home here. He didn't need to work all that out; knowing her he should have naturally assumed that. Once he reached the door, he looked back at her and after a moment's stare, he moved through the door towards the stairs. Climbing only one floor, he found himself in the VIP area, much quieter than the chaos below. No one challenged him as he entered and he sat on a sofa, placing his glass on the table before it, twisting it slightly so the imprinted label faced him. Unsure of whether or not Anastasia would follow or not, he placed his phone on the table too, ready to call should he be left waiting too long.

With the big news in Russia about Zakhar's son, Urjasz had been left to be the messenger. Fortunately for Anastasia, his son had plenty of land given to him in Russia and since Anastasia had been running the land over here for some time, it was no longer considered Zakhar's. An window to his right distracted him as he began to watch the snow outside fall, a slight reflection of the room around him in the window. Even though he had many lines of information in the city, there was always the smaller news, the personal lives of those around him that somehow brought him back. There was no unknown man with Anastasia downstairs, but was there one in the mansion? How was she coping with the immortal life now that it was reaching the first year? The Novosi had by now become highly trained in shifter tactics and even in Russia they were being requested for advice from the top levels. Such a small little community yet a lasting effect on the world. Smiling, Urjasz enjoyed the thought.

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

Anastasia finished off her drink and pushed it to the side, shooting down an offer for them to buy her another. If she drank any more of the caffeinated drink her heart would probably stop.

Jumpy as always, she nearly had a heart-attack when the Novosi raven landed beside her and shifted back, but she did her best to compose herself and took several deep breaths while the other guys at the table jeered and accused the other shifter of being a show-off. Some muttered that they should have thought about it first, but none of it really mattered at all, not when the raven normally just showed up to tell her something. And what he whispered in her ear was far more interesting than anything the other guys had to say.

Pointed in the right direction, it didn’t Anastasia but five seconds to discover one very familiar wolf across the room. She sat frozen like a deer in headlights, unsure what to do or say—not that she could have said anything with the distance and the noise in the room—but then he walked away, and she nearly fell into the mental pit she was always trying so hard to avoid. He didn’t want to see her, did he? But then. . . why would he even come—well, this was more his scene than it was her scene, wasn’t it? She’d only come here to whittle away the time and placate the people who told her she needed to get out more often.

If only she’d been able to convince Ginny to come with her, but she was a bookworm. . . going to something like this wouldn’t be her scene. Anastasia hated being dragged to these places, so she wouldn’t force someone else to.

“It’s best not keep him waiting,” the Novosi muttered to her before standing up to leave, the Russian making everyone else at the table fall quiet to listen.

Anastasia stared up at the Novosi as he left, eyes wide. Keep him waiting—for what? For her? She turned her head back to look at the spot Urjasz had left, but he was gone now. She’d seen where he’d gone, but was he really waiting for her? It wouldn’t make any sense for the Novosi to tell her if that wasn’t the case, so she stood up and looked back at the table. “Sorry, someone’s waiting for me,” she announced, only waiting another moment to repeat the apology in Russia at their request—apparently Russian was “hot” or something when she said it—and then turned to leave.

She felt as if her heart was going to jump right out of her chest it was beating so hard, but she made the lonesome climb up the stairs, shrinking under the gaze of the VIP lounge bouncer, unable to make contact like she always was until he finally let her in after giving her a hard time—for some reason he’d found her stammering amusing—and she stepped into the room, shoulders hunched and body tense as she spotted Urjasz in the room.

At least it was quiet enough that Anastasia could hear herself think—not that it was always a good thing.

“Ah. . . h-hello,” she muttered, unsure if this was a casual meeting or if she needed to be polite and formal. She would have preferred if he’d just said hello downstairs, but at the same time she was glad he hadn’t. . . never knew what would happen when guys started to feel territorial.

Notes: D'aw I'm sorry.

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

The moments of waiting allowed for him to think over how he was going to speak to her. It felt like the only times he got to see her were when someone important was happening. He knew Anastasia well, but not as well as a best friend would. As that thought crossed his mind he was reminded of Kyla, the one friend Anastasia had now gone. In his life Urjasz had never really become friends with many people, knowing only too well that one day they would die before him. Poor Anastasia had a friend for her human life and that friend was taken from her in this new life. And it wasn't even Daktari who had taken her; it was some wannabe slayer out to make a name for themselves. The thought brought anger to his veins and he found himself drinking a larger sip of the whiskey than he would normally drink. In time they would get their revenge. It was just a matter of time.

His thoughts of murder and revenge were swiftly hidden away with the familar sound of Anastasia entering a room. A smile drew itself upon his face as he watched her in the reflection. Her soft voice confirmed that it was her and he turned to face her. "Hello Anastasia. It's good to see you." Motioning to the chair opposite him, he waited for her to join himself. He found himself unable to keep his eyes off her, the one girl he could never truly have. By now he must surely be the friend guy in her life. So many had come and gone for her to let him entirely into her life. Daktari. Zakhar. Trey. Even Draven at the start. Any other immortal would have left her to her own devices now as she seemed to carry the curse of death to those closest to her however Urjasz rather enjoyed the forbidden nature of it all.

"I hope you are well" he began, placing his phone back in his pocket. "Forgive my approach tonight but I have news that the Novosi are not ready to hear. They will be informed later tonight back at the mansion all at once. It is important that they be at the mansion when told." Pausing to take a drink of his whiskey, he let the mystery of it all play upon Anastasia's mind. Telepathy was the one power Urjasz always longed for, although there was always more primal ways of controlling and uncovering another person's thoughts. "I shall be blunt and to the point. Zakhar's son is alive. Now before you say anything, the mansion will remain yours, as will the Novosi. In Russia the vampires earn their land, they don't inherit it as you can imagine, some of them would end up waiting forever. It simply encouraged murder too much."

Allowing her time to think once more, he resumed his drink and once he placed it back down, continued to explain the situation. "Had we known this earlier, I imagine we would still have Zakhar with us. It turns out that he had been taken by a rogue member of the Gorchakov family, some lower ranker with a thirst for power. That thirst has cost him his life. Afanasii personally saw to it." What Urjasz didn't disclose was that Afanasii burned the vampire for over three days in a row, keeping him just alive to feel it all. "I wish I could be here with happier news, but this is how it stands. I hope that things have been better for you here. There has been too much bloodshed in Russia. It'd be nice to know it was better over here. Even the humans have noticed the amount of violence. Went as far as calling Russia a "mafia state". If only they knew."

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

As per usual more than one thing was filtered through her harried mind, all jumbling together so she couldn’t think straight, just stand there like an idiot and wait to be told what to do. That’s all she ever seemed to be waiting for. . . to be told what to do.

He indicated toward the seat near him after greeting her arrival and she scurried toward the seat, planting herself in it with her legs drawn up and curled under her. At least these seats were comfortable. . downstairs they were just the stackable, plastic time. Over a little while they really started to hurt one’s ass. “It’s g-good to see you too,” she replied, head tilted down and a sheepish smile working its way onto her face. She always felt safer with this wolf. Well, she always became extremely obedient around most of the men involved with Daktari, but she felt safer with him. He was at least nice to her.

And wouldn’t die if they were attacked at any given moment.

She nodded her head in response and smiled a little more confidently. “I’m doing. . . well, I suppose,” she said with a little bit of thought. She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t wallowing in misery, so in her book she was getting along rather swimmingly. “I made a new friend in the least.”

Urjasz announced that he had some news, and she just waited patiently, wondering what exactly it would be that he couldn’t have told her in front of the Novosi, waiting for them to all be in one room together. It must have been some big news if they needed to gather all of the Novosi. She shifted in her seat and kept her attention on Urjasz, letting him gather the words he needed to say. . . . As forward as he could manage, no doubt.

But she couldn’t have ever guessed that Zakhar’s son was alive.

She opened her mouth, but he interrupted her and told her that the mansion would remain hers and she turned her head away, looking a little sour. That was the last thing that had crossed her mind until he said it. Did he really think her to be that selfish? If the house was his by right, then of course she would have given it up to him. So long as he allowed her to continue to live there. . . like the mouse that hid under the cabinets and you didn’t bother. Occasionally fed. Gave a name. . . . Yeah. She could be that mouse.

Anastasia lowered her head, thinking far about the fact that if Zakhar had known his son was still alive, then maybe he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to end his own life. That whole incident with Daktari’s death. . . Anastasia couldn’t help but think that that whole thing had been a suicide mission for the fatherly vampire.

“Well. . . it hasn’t gotten worse. . . for me,” she replied, a chagrined smile present. “It’s. Getting better. Little by little, I guess. But. . . but I’m glad to hear, that at least he’s not dead. . . . I mean, the Gorchakovs must be. . . ah, happy about that.”

Notes: same old anastasia

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

As usual it was Urjasz doing most of the talking, something that he found himself doing quite a lot. She had no real response to what he was saying, simply listening to what he had to say. Most people would continue to chat about the topic as it was quite a serious topic. Not Urjasz. For him, it was simply a message to be passed over and to be quite frank, he didn't give two shits about Zakhar's son. End of the day his disappearance had caused the death of a good friend and Urjasz felt that he should have tried harder to escape. The fact that he eventually escaped made Urjasz think that he had the chance earlier on to do so. "Anyhow enough about business. I'm tired of discussing business with everyone." Relaxing into the chair, he was noticeably more casual now. He just could not be fucked to keep up the pretense of being all business like.

"Perhaps I could meet this friend some time. What are they like, if you don't mind me asking? Immortal?" This genuinely caught his attention as everytime Anastasia had a new friend, things got complicated quickly. Kyla ended with the death of their master and her own death. Trey disappeared after several weeks of luxury. To this day Urjasz never fully understood that wolf, whether he was just unfortunate in his timing or whether he was more complicated than that. "Any news on Trey? Last time I heard you weren't sure what was happening with that. Something like he pissed off when you needed him the most." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, but nothing that would draw attention to his own thoughts. Despite his place in the area, Urjasz would always merely advise as he could not tell anyone how to live their lives. If he could, he would.

With a swift drink of his whiskey, Urjasz had a quick glance around the room, only now really taking into acount who was here. He was tired and must have been forgetting his routines in his old age. It was only then that he realised he hadn't slept for several days and he wondered if it was noticable. Hoping that was not the case, he decided to throw yet more questions and conversation starters at Anastasia. "Was there anything that you wanted to ask me? I feel it is only ever me doing the talking between us. You know that you can relax around me yes? There is no one over here I must take orders from. There is no reason for me to not be here. What am I saying? I'm rambling a bit as usual. Forgive me, I have not been myself these last few days."

(Sorry it's a bit shorter, suffering from the flu unfortunately so muse is kinda dead)

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

Anastasia sat for a moment, and then sank a little further in her seat. “Oh alright. I don’t. . . mind. I just don’t know. . . much about how things work,” she said quietly, fidgeting slightly. She tended to feed off of other people’s emotions, and the tense, business-like air was making her feel a little comfortable.

However, once he had moved off the topic of business and relaxed, the tension floated away slowly and she sat a little straighter in her seat, feeling less and less pressured. Her smile became a little more genuine, but that changed slightly when he brought up her new friend. She fidgeted a little bit, but hardened her resolve by telling herself she shouldn’t be ashamed of who wanted to hang out with when they weren’t bad people. “Ah. . . G-Ginny. She’s human. She visits every now and again. She was doing something in the forest around the mansion and helped pull me out of the river when I fell in.”

She looked down at the ground and let her hands fall to her lap, her fidgeting ending for a moment or two. “She knows about vampires and stuff already. . . . She was attacked by a vampire before she met me. The full moon was. . . about a week ago, right? So. . . she knows what I am, too, now.” Her face scrunched up in thought and she looked over at Urjasz. “She actually thought it was kind of interesting, knowing that vampires and werewolves weren’t the only ones.”

Anastasia smiled fondly. She really thought she’d found a good friend to be with this time. A decent replacement for Kyla, and she probably wouldn’t try to drag her to places like this all the time. It was bad enough she was even there in the first place.

Or had that been the point? Bring her here so she could meet Urjasz. . . . Why couldn’t they have met at the house? Well it wasn’t important.

Trey was brought up and Anastasia’s expression darkened for a moment before she turned her head sharply away from her companion, hands balling unconsciously into fists. He’d just have to bring it up that way, hadn’t he? Used those exact words. . . it was almost as if he was trying to push her buttons. “No,” she replied curtly, not bothering to expand further on the subject: she would rather just not think about it ever again.

He attacked her—figuratively—with a flurry of questions and she just stared at him, eyes slightly wider than normal and she unconscious leaned away from him, even though they weren’t that close to each other to begin with. “Ah—ah—no. No. . . no questions. . . ,” she replied, acting a little chagrined. Her rueful smile faded and she looked down at her hands. “I know I can. I try to. I guess I just haven’t quite gotten used to things yet. Know how to act. . . what I can or can’t do.”

Translation: Daktari screwed her up too much for her to ever change.

Notes: At least. . . she's a little more talkative?

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

Anastasia's brief story of how she met Ginny brought a wave of concern to Urjasz, but not about Ginny which would have been expected. "Pulled you out the river? What were you doing in the river? Why weren't the Novosi there?" he remarked, leaning forward in his chair, honestly concerned about Anastasia. It was scary how within a year he had become rather fond of Anastasia so any potential death threat was taken seriously, even if she managed to attract a risk to her life on a monthly basis. That was the one that did annoy Urjasz about Anastasia, yet he knew that if she could avoid it she would. Relaxing slightly, he let Anastasia explain and he replied with a statement. "I tend to find that humans who know about us are surprised that wolves and vampires can work together. They all seem to think we're at war and have been for a long time."

It didn't take a genius to notice that Anastasia certainly wasn't happy to discuss Trey; the one word reply a form of spitting on his memory. His flurry of questions did seem to distract her slightly and he was faced with a small dilema. Ask her about what happened and possibly push her away or change the topic, not knowing the truth. Finishing his glass of whiskey, he pushed it across the table away from them both and sighed. "Have you seen Tayrn recently? I fear I may have blown things there." Genuine shame swept across his face, especially as he found himself asking Anastasia, the girl who had shared his bed only days before he got with Taryn. "I'm never truly settled in one place, it had to be then that I was called away. I don't have the pleasures of a social life any more it would seem. would you believe it, I find myself rather jealous of your life. How silly of me yes?"

Thinking over the last few months, none of it had been worth it in the end. Find this guy, kill that one, accidentally discover Zakhar's son on the run, get put hours and hours of boring vampiric rituals. But he really didn't believe that if he settled that he be able to live the quiet life. Inside him lived a murderer, at least with his current lifestyle he could justify it. Opposite him sat the most passive person he knew and he felt that he couldn't confide that side of things with her. Being told simply be nicer wouldn't work so well. And there it was. The thought that every immortal dreaded. Would the world be better off if I was dead? Hoping that it was simply the drink that was making him think this, he could not help but look back at the last few years, not even glancing at the pain before. He had felt so much pain recently and what for? So some vampire could keep his mansion.

"It's funny" Urjasz suddenly remarked, looking down to the floor now, "regardless of whether we are good or bad, in the end the suffering we feel is worse than any humans. They fear death and mourn those they loose. I have lost more people than I would have known in my human life and I'm just expected to get over it. But what if I don't want to? Perhaps I would like to keep the same friends for centuries. I thought I wanted a lover for life but life made me see that I could not do that. I've not even been back to the mansion yet out of fear of seeing her. I know. Me, afraid of something. It's a sad day indeed. Because no matter what I tell myself, I can't justify leaving.I have killed, I have raped, I have done many bad things. Why do I feel remorse now? Why do I feel sorry for her? Why did I do that to you? Any other person would hate me for moving on quickly. I thought I mastered this life. Turns out I'm more subject to my wolf than I originally believed."

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

She hadn’t expected him to ask her so sincerely about what happened at the river, and she fumbled with her words for a minute, a little flustered at the level of concern in his expression.

“I—I was just out taking a walk. . . . I had Kaiser and Apollo. . . ,” her voice trailed off for a moment as memories of her now-dead hyena Apollo, but she shook it off and continued. “with me. I just. . . kinda. . . slipped and fell in. I can’t. . . swim all that well, and the current was strong. Even Kaiser and Apollo had some trouble getting out, but they managed.”

Anastasia looked from ringing her hands to smile sheepishly at Urjasz. “I’m just. . . kinda clumsy I guess. I don’t know if there were Novosi there or not. . . but Ginny was right there and she helped me out.”

It made sense to Anastasia that humans normally thought that vampires and werewolves were always at each other’s throats. It was a terrible misconception, but she figured that some of the two species would have their rivalries and their issues. At least the ones she lived with weren’t like that. “It’s probably just because of the movies and those things,” she mused, shrugging her shoulders and worrying the hem of her shirt.

“Taryn?” she repeated, her expression distant as she thought about the she-wolf she’d found lurking around the house. Pulling herself from her thoughts, she shook her head and forced her fingers to loosen their grip on each other. “No, I haven’t. I don’t know what became of her.” She had only talked to the she-wolf once, and it hadn’t been a very long conversation at all. It had pretty much consisted of being asked where Urjasz was, and she telling her he’d probably run off on a job or something. It was rare when Anastasia didn’t feel sociable, but she hadn’t then.

Truth be told, Anastasia was extremely happy she hadn’t stayed at the mansion.

“Would you believe it, I find myself rather jealous of your life. How silly of me yes?" he asked, taking Anastasia quite by surprise. Jealous? Of her life? Who in their right mind would be jealous of her? Meek, hapless, helpless, passive, broken Anastasia? It didn’t make any sense to her! All she could do was stare at him, flabbergasted, unable to say much.

At last Urjasz started on another tangent. Anastasia didn’t mind so much because it gave her time to get her wits about her, and he never had anything uninteresting to say in any case. He seemed pretty upset, too, but Anastasia didn’t know what to do or what to say, not that she had much of a chance until he finished with his speech. The short blonde looked down at her lap, concentrating for a moment or two while she let what he was saying sink in, while she let him calm down for a moment.

After a moment, Anastasia looked up and smiled as warmly as she could despite that fact that she was a little put-off and uneasy. She shifted in her seat so she could reach better, glad his seat wasn’t too far away, and just set her hand gently on his. “If you were any other way, you wouldn’t be you. Unlike me, you’re just the way you need to be.”

Notes: kind of a bleh post.

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

It was most likely due to the lack of sleep but Urjasz was in a moment of simply not caring what he did with life any more. To him it simply seemed that if he did things properly he'd be the one who gets fucked over, not the ones who deserve it. "I am simply who I am because it can some times suit the kind of person I am" he dryly remarked, looking at the empty whiskey glass trying to wish it back to being full. "I like to kill people and the vampires have need for people like that because they seem to piss so many people off. Plus I have a complete disregard for life. Every person that I kill I don't look at, not truly. Behind every set of eyes a huge lifetime worth of history and events. All so easily removed from the world. No longer present but a product of the past. I mean, I could kill everyone in here and not feel any thing. Actually that's not a bad idea. Fuck it, I'm doing it. You can either wait here or bugger off, I don't mind either way."

Standing up, he pulled out two pistols from coat and took aim at the first person; a man sat upon a stool by an empty bar. With a single shot he was thrown from the stool and he landed awkwardly on his shoulder as he bounced across the floor. As people began to panic and run, Urjasz just fired blindly at them, not choosing any particular targets. One by one people fell in heavy heaps on the floor. As he ran out of ammo, he placed the guns in their holsters and pulled out a bowie knife. With a blank expression on his face, he would grab and slice any one that came within reach. The once spotless and very vip area was now covered in blood and bodies. Finding people hiding, Urjasz would pull them out by their legs and repeatedly stab them until they stopped moving. As the doors burst open with the first of security guards running in, Urjasz hardly looked at them before carrying on.

The pain of the blows rained down upon him by them didn't really seem to register. One by one he simply grabbed them by the arms, got them in a lock and stabbed them until they dropped. When the last dropped, Urjasz simply continued walking around looking for people to kill. There was no one left. Sighing, Urjasz put the knife back in its sheath and sat down. Looking around the room, there was no expression on his face, remorse or enjoyment. "Is that it?" he asked himself, not really knowing if Anastasia was still there or not. Out of the blue, a shot wizzed past him and he half smiled. Looking left, he was beaten in the face by a bullet, his cheek flaring open as it tore through. Shot after shot, he was hit by the majority of the shots fired by a single man shaking in the door way. Even once he ran out of ammo, the man was still clicking away.

Getting up, Urjasz looked straight at him and began to walk towards him. Now panicking, the man dropped the gun's magazine and began to hurridly try and put a new one in. Taking his time walking towards the man, Urjasz was slightly surprised and annoyed that by the time he got to him he had yet to reload. Taking the gun from the man, he loaded it and pointed it at the man. When he was done, he dropped the gun, the man falling down moments later. Walking to the bar, Urjasz looked through the drinks and took some more whiskey, pouring it into a shot glass. Placing the bottle on the table, he looked at the glass. Lifting it up as if to toast, he passed out, head butting the table as he went down and that was that. Asleep, he would recover in time. But it was clear he was bored with life. The true weakness of an immortal; their own will to continue.

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

a world she can't rise above

hard to see the pain behind the mask

She pulled her hand back and her expression dropped and she slid all the way back in her chair, staring at the werewolf with a mix of emotions at what he was saying. In fact, Anastasia wasn’t even really sure she understood what he was saying, except that he killed people and was hired because of that. It was almost as if he was talking too much.

“Fuck it, I'm doing it. You can either wait here or bugger off, I don't mind either way,” he abruptly stated after his little tirade.

Anastasia used her hands to push herself up in the chair a little bit, as if she was going to get up. “W-what? Are you. . . are you going. . . .” Her voice trailed off as he pulled a gun and she shoved herself so far back in the chair you’d think she wanted to be inside it. “Home.” The last word was a squeak, as if from a mouse.

Maybe that’s what she should have been turned into. . . a were-mouse.

As soon as the shots started firing, Anastasia had her hands over her head, knees drawn up to her chest, and jaw tight as she clenched her teeth. Eyes shut tight, she couldn’t help but tremble and just try her best to ignore the loud noises, the cries, the splatter of blood, the smell of the blood, mingled with various scents of fear and death.

Why. . . Why? she thought pitifully in her mind, too afraid to get up and run. What would happen if she were to run? She might get hit, he might turn on her next. . . . No, it was safer curled up in her little chair, curled up as tight and as small as she could manage, her body shaking and a low whimper escaping through her clenched teeth every time someone screamed, whenever another body hit the ground in a heap. Every plea, their nails dragging down the flood boards. . . . She couldn’t escape it.

“Stop it,” she muttered. “Stop it. Stop it.”

The more he continued, the more her fear started to give way to an anger she hadn’t felt before. Urjasz. . . he was killing people for no reason. She didn’t care what he said, that wasn’t the kind of person he was. Her terrified trembling started to mix with trembling with anger, and her fingers closed around handfuls of her hair in fists, pulling uncomfortable at her scalp.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

Her eyes flashed open and she looked around the room. There was only one source of shots now, but they had stopped, following by the clicking of an empty gun. Even that stopped and she spotted Urjasz by the door, staring down some brave soul trying to reload his weapon.

Anastasia got to her feet, face determined and hands balled into fists at her side, she shouted at him. “STOP IT!”

For once in her life, her voice didn’t waver, she didn’t stammer, she wasn’t quiet.

Whether or not he didn’t shoot the guy because she said so didn’t much matter right then. Believing it was her doing made her feel ten times better about herself and that was what mattered right then. She watched him make his way toward the bar, where he passed out moments later. Anastasia’s chest was heaving as she breathed deeply, and she growled, teeth clenched.

Looking around, she scurried toward the bar, just letting her anger take over for a little while. Already she had shoved the images of the deceased out of her mind, hardly even noticing them: if she let herself notice and take them in, she’d be far too horrified to do much of anything.

“No. . . no you don’t,” she muttered to herself, grabbing several bottles of alcohol and doing her best to open them. “You don’t get to sleep.” With that, she turned the bottles upside down and dumped their contents over the werewolf’s head, hoping that it’d be enough to wake him up. If not, she’d go find something else to pour on him.

“Wake up, you poor excuse for a man! You deal with this right now!” It didn't matter if he was wounded or not. . . that was the least he deserved for what he'd done; suffering from his wounds.

Notes: :U guess she temporarily borrowed a pair.

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

In his passed out state he was finally enjoying something he'd missed; peace. After several days of sleep, this last minute attempt at sleep was pure bliss to him. The moments before were playing over in his head as if he was watching himself do it. He could not help but evaluate his own attack, looking for new ways to take down the opposition in future fights. His attention fell upon Anastasia who was left hiding on her chair, quietly muttering something. But the more he killed, the louder her screams got. As he came to his final victim, she screamed at the top of her lungs to stop. Even still he had just opened fire, tearing the man apart with the bullets. He simply hadn't heard Anastasia in his daze. But yet she still screamed at him to stop. Looking at her face in the memory, he could not see her lips moving, however yet she still screams.

As the alcohol splashed across his wounds, a large sting of pain shot across his body and with a mighty roar of pain, he flung himself up, half shifting with the pain. Teeth and claws extended he was alert and ready for anything. Seeing it was Anastasia, he gave her a confused look and then sat down. "What do you want?" he briskly asked, leaning back across the seat. What did she want? It was unlike Anastasia to even be about when something like this had happened, let alone stay. It was a shame that she could not read minds like Kyla would. It was that power that let Kyla see what Urjasz was really like. A bad man pretending to be a good man. Tortured by his past, he could only fight the future. Looking Anastasia up and down, he wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck her or kill her. There was an urge to do something.

With a rumble of his stomach, Urjasz looked over at the bodies and licked his lips. He didn't care what Anastasia was saying; he was hungry. Finding a loosely dressed lady, he tore off the dress and sliced her straight down the middle, opening her up like some kind of sports bag. Pulling chunks out of her, he began to gorge on the parts, blood going everywhere as he ate her. Throwing a pile of meat at Anastasia's feet, he motioned for her to join in. "If you don't want to waste them, eat up" he teased, looking her dead in the eyes as he spoke. Expecting her to refuse, he continued any way. Grabbing the lady's head by her hair, he tilted her head and began to eat away at her neck, gorging himself upon her remains. With a sickenly snap, the head fell away from the the body and he began to slam it down onto the table nearby.

Over and over he smashed it against it until finally there was a crack and he pulled open the head. "There's tribes in the world who believe that if you kill an enemy and eat his brain, you'll become smarter. Want to know the scary thing? They were right." Pulling the brain from the skull, he chewed away at the delicate treat, throwing the empty skull to one side. Had he looked at how he would turn out a few days ago, he would have simply told who ever showed him that it couldn't be. His sanity was long gone; given up to the wolf inside. With the lack of care for living, he had done something worse than suicide. He had allowed the wolf to take over and with that, he had effectivally killed the last human side of him. Would he be a good wolf or bad wolf? Looking around the room, there was a good chance that he was going to be bad. And it was good to be bad.

[/color]

[Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova]

ignite the light and let it shine

Do you ever feel already buried deep

Her attempt at waking him up worked, and she let out a sharp squeal as he woke in a quite violent manner. Anastasia hadn’t really taken into account the alcohol pouring over his wounds, but now she was the wiser for it. She stumbled back as he reared up and her eyes went wide as she slammed hard against the back wall, terrified that he was just going to leap over the counter and tear her shreds.

But he didn’t.

Even though she had been all gung-ho about confronting him moments ago, she was at a loss for words now as he turned on her, his gaze listless now, dull. . . almost dead. Her chest continued to heave and she just stared at him, bewildered, unsure as to what she was going to do now. She had him up. . . maybe she should have left him to rest? At least he wasn’t trying to kill her. That was the main point right then.

Things just got even worse as he started to tear into the bodies. Revulsion twisted her stomach and she put a hand over her mouth to keep everything down, but she nearly lost it anyway when he chucked a hunk of flesh at her; she squealed and ran out from behind the counter to avoid the slab, standing a good twenty feet across the room from the crazed werewolf. Hands held together by her chest, she just stared at him, wondering how this had all turned out this way. Had she said something? Did she do something wrong? What should she do now? What should she say?

Her mouth worked, but no sounds came out. He was babbling nonsense now, and her nails dug into her hands, drawing a little bit of blood as her fingers tightened harder on her fists. Her jaw clenched, and then she just let her shoulders drop and her hands fall to her side, head hanging.

“I don’t know what I should do,” she muttered more to herself than to the werewolf. He had probably heard her, anyway. She glanced around the room, then just walked slowly back and sat down in her chair, drawing her knees up to her chest and her chin on her caps, just watching him with a blank expression, deciding to just let him get whatever this was out of his system. She didn’t know what she was going to do.

But she wasn’t about to leave him alone.

Getting up out of the chair again, she paced for a few moments, just circling the room as she tried to decide. She stopped, looked at Urjasz, then started again for a few more moments before stopping him and watching him a second time. This time, she glanced around the room, and then slowly, cautiously, walked over to him. Once she was at least fifty percent sure he wasn’t going to snap at her, she sat down by him and just crossed her legs under her.

“I’m here, Urjasz. When you get back,” she muttered, not sure if it even meant anything to him right then.

Notes: pfft this is lame make him normal again.

[Urjasz Volkova]

When I am seen.
I am feared.
_______________________

[/size][/font]

(You have no idea how wet I got going to my parents for their net haha, did a 5.30am start to 2.30pm finish so took me a bit longer to get here, but alas, post time!)

To any one that knew Urjasz well, seeing him like this would no doubt be quite the shock; after all he was normally calm and collected, not some rash beast that kills on a whim. However, even in the madness there was a good reason to eat. Anastasia had woken him, the peaceful way to heal. Now he had little option but to feed and the wolf inside had no problem at convincing him to do so. To Anastasia it may have been vile, but this was normal nature to most immortals. If only she could see vampires in a room of blood try hold back their lust; it could send the nicest of them into a frenzy of thirst. For Urjasz it was just like a human eating a rack of ribs; perfectly normal. Sure the method he took to get the food was not needed, however what was done was done and there was no need to waste any of it. Inside he could feel the normal feelings returning, the moment of madness another moment of weakness to add to the list that Anastasia had witnessed. No doubt he had gone down a few notches in her book.

It was around then that he heard the first of her small comments and it somewhat bewildered him. Pausing for a moment, his dull, glazed over eyes met hers as he tried to work it out. It was so simple yet it was as if he had only just woken from a long slumber and his mind was not quite with it. As if the alarm was going beside him yet he just couldn't figure out what it was for. Anastasia looked like the bored friend waiting for a mate to hurry up what they're doing and come hang out. Chewing the meat slowly, Urjasz began to look around the room too, trying to see it from her point of view. She wasn't condemning him, but she wasn't congratulating either. Despite the little moments of disgust when he threw some meat, she had been relatively calm compared to how she used to be. It was as if she had become used to it.

Bones on the floor beside him, he was sat still in a daze, just staring at the room before him. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. Whilst he just stared, Anastasia sat down nearby and made a quick comment. Snapping his head to look at her, he just stared for a moment, no real emotions on his face. Breaking away from the daze, he just smiled and replied "I'm here. Always here. Always fine." His attention was taken towards the door as several Novosi entered and took a moment to take in what he had done. Once they felt they'd looked long enough, they just began to pick up body parts, opening bin bags and filling them up as they went. One was heard commenting "This is is nearly as bad as that wolf he took down in that street. And the subway. And the flats. Jesus Urjasz...." Just giving the Novosi a quick look, Urjasz simply shrugged and look down at the floor for a moment.

Watching one of the Novosi pick up the lady around him, he was sat in silence at first, watching him ask Anastasia if she was ok and making small talk. Taking a cigar from his pocket, he went to place it in his mouth when he noticed the sheer amount of blood on his hands. Now the remorse was beginning to kick in and he didn't know how to act. Lighting the cigar, he leaned back against a in built sofa and simply stated "I could do with a fuck." Looking over at one of the female Novosi, he smiled and chuckled slightly, knowing he would try it on with her later. "Maybe it's a good thing that Taryn left. I'm not surprised you're still here though. On the one hand, you'd have no where to go, on the other, what complaints could you have about life over here? Besides little gems of moments like this." Looking Anastasia dead in the eye, Urjasz emotionlessly stated "I should meet your human friend. Maybe she'd..... encourage the human side."

[/color]