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Post by izzy2 on Jan 14, 2012 18:58:56 GMT -5
 Quiet, Sweet Insanity[/u] -----------------------------------------
In the dark, predators hunted prey. In the day, they slept. Such was the call of nature, a call that many could not resist. Dark, psychotic whispers in the black. Muttering, babbling, nonsensical words. They didn't make sense, they didn't have to. The only people that could hear them were too far gone already. So they thought. A wet night, one that gave people cause to stay indoors. Not enough cause. After all, New Orleans was a city. All one had to do was pick up a raincoat, or an umbrella. The rain made it hard to see, sure, but they were used to the night, used to the whispers of insanity that came with it. Dark shapes in the mist, shadows in the rain. Predators, stalking prey.
They didn't have to venture far from their den to find it, either. A young couple, alone in the night. They had expected to lie together, never to die together. Their necks broke like twigs, suddenly limp bodies falling the the ground, the splash hidden by the rain. Dark shadows, shifting in the night. Eyes, caught by the moon, flashed, hunger easily read in them. They were hungry, but even now, they couldn't eat. Even broken and shattered, their minds were still part of the pack. The pack needed food. They provided it. Only then could they eat. The feral intelligence that drove them had faded over the years, till they were little more than the animals they appeared to be. Large, dumb beasts. With their matted fur and yellow teeth, their very presence whispered insanity.
They brought the bodies back, still fresh, not an hour dead. The pack was waiting, gleaming eyes in the dark of the warehouse. Two bodies was barely enough to feed them, but they had gone with less before. They were used to being hungry, with thin wasted bodes, fur coarse and matted, the water making it heavy as they shifted in the night. The hunters came in, unceremoniously depositing the bodies on the floor. Their clothes had been stripped away. The pack had no use for such paltry items. Clothing wasn't edible, but the warm flesh was. A shudder ran through the pack, an eager greed, the urge to gorge themselves almost insatiable now. Still, accepting their place, they split, making room for Tavac to come through. The one among them who still held some intelligence, though his name was a fabrication of the mind, his true identity forgotten long ago. His massive form broke through the crowd, a feral grin on his wolfish features. Their alpha. Their leader. The one who kept them fed. He always got the first bite.
Only he didn't. He whirled, growling deep and low in his chest, at the sound of a whistle. The pack turned with him, over a dozen filthy creatures, staring out of the darkness. Their eyes fastened upon the figure there. They hadn't seen him coming, so intent were they on their feast. Nor had they smelled him, for the rain washes many scents away. They saw a man. Tall and broad of shoulder, certainly, but a man nonetheless, and a man, they could kill... They thought.
"Found you." The man said quietly. Their minds couldn't comprehend his speech. Not anymore. Only Tavac tilted his massive head to the side, his yellow teeth clenching slightly. "After all, you've been around for a while, haven't you? Mind you, I only started looking yesterday. You see, I've been out of town for a while, and I discovered a few things had changed when I came back. Never expected to be doing this, but...Hell, I owe it to her."
The pack looked to Tavac, who looked almost confused, but his snarl of anger sent the hungry horde scrambling forward, their eyes fastened upon this intruder in their den. As Tavac watched, he saw the two rods of gleaming silver leap into the mans hands, from where they had lain hidden under his coat. He paused then, but it was too late to warn the pack, a dozen starving lycans already bloodcrazed and starving. They had seen prey. They wanted to eat.
The click as the shaft joined together hung heavily in the dark, dank warehouse, Mal's gloved hands spinning the newly joined spear in a glittering arc, a grim smile rising onto his face. This wasn't his town, but it was the last place he had seen Sie, and everything else was just inconsequential when compared to that. Why was he hunting ferals now? Because it reminded him of her. That, and this pack had wandered onto the mansion grounds the previous night in their search for food. They hadn't stayed long, but he had gotten their scent. Now, he was here, and he was still angry. The first one fell fast, the thin blade of the spear tearing through his throat. The silver blade was like a whisper in the night, and the feral creature made no noise as it fell.
Instinct was taking over the pack, filling their mind. They encircled him, certain that their victory was close at hand, that they would eat well that night. The butt of the spear knocked one aside, making him howl in pain as the silver touched him.The blade swung around, then stabbed out, taking out an eye. They outnumbered him, more than twelve to one, but he had the longer reach, and he had the experience on his side. The butt landed squarely in a throat, sending the creature to the ground, clutching a crushed windpipe. Seconds later, he had no need of breathing, as the razor sharp blade pierced easily through his skull. Mal's eyes were half hooded, calm, showing little recognition of his surroundings, save for the intricate dance his hands made of the spear. Two more pack members fell. Easily, smoothly, one by one, his spear danced through the pack, the butt always coming around to head off advances, the blade following through to finish them. They weren't the predators anymore. The pack was simply fighting for its survival. They were losing.
The spear gleamed in flight as he flung it, passing through the final lycan to pin it to the wall beyond. Mal straightened, his emerald green eyes searching the darkness. There was one left, he had counted. The large one that had to be the alpha. He hadn't seen it join in the fighting.
Only his nose warned him in time before the massive furred shape dropped from the darkness above. He fell to his knees, rolling out of the way, coming up in a fighting stance, legs spread for balance. Step by step, the two circled each other, a constant low rumbling rising from the alpha's chest, as he glanced around at the carnage this man had created. It was only then that he realized that he wasn't fighting a man at all. He inhaled again, snarling at the realization. Then he leapt forward, caution forgotten in rage. Mal was waiting. as the first paw descended towards him, he grasped its wrist, stepping to the side and sweeping his leg. The massive lycan performed a neat frontflip, but his wrist, caught in the viselike grip, couldn't follow. The snap of breaking bone was loud and echoed in the empty space. Two kicks to the muzzle shattered the jaw, sending blood and teeth onto the concrete floor. From there, Mal set to work, delivering quick, sharp blows to the ribs, shattering them. Another kick drove them into the lycan's lungs, and a final twist snapped his neck. The alpha died choking on his own blood.
Mal sighed, stepping away and retrieving his spear from the wall. With a deft twist, he separated it back into two pieces, which he re-slung on his back, hidden under his long coat. With a sigh, he looked around at the silent warehouse, coated in dark, glistening blood. "What a waste." He said quietly, stepping over one of the bodies as he headed for the door. Sie wasn't here. His mood was dark, and only seemed to be getting worse. He needed something to do.
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Why do you make this so...
[/u] [/center][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 24, 2012 19:10:07 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;]It was incredibly late at night to be wandering around the city aimlessly in a day off but that was the case. Nika had been given the day off for her hard and loyal work at the bar as she’d never really missed or slacked off since she’d started a few months back while not botching the quality of the drinks basically this was like a gift. There was on problem to the gift, Nika was already accustomed to the night life hours during the week and was currently quite bored and most things were closed this late. She’d hit a bar or 2 earlier before they closed but they did nothing, the many glasses of strong booze had hardly caused a buzz which is why she was still walking quite straight.
She donned a grayish graphic t-shirt that had intricate and indescribable patterns on the back and front with a military styled jacket over top in black or a dark blue she wasn’t sure but in this light it was black left open. There were a pair of skinny jeans that weren’t really special in anyway plus over the knee black pleather high heeled buckled boots. She had various spiked bracelets on each arm on was a simple leather one with steel spiked studs and the other was a fancier one that had small clear rhinestones and the spikes were linked. Her necklace also fit the spiked theme along with her earrings, spiked but tasteful and casual she wasn’t looking to stab anyone’s eyes out ‘accidentally’ just yet. Cause of the rain being harder than a simple drizzle she had to carry the umbrella, it was one of those that could double up as a walking stick or a weapon if tweaked but it was left untweaked for this day.
She’d wandered to a part of the downtown area that was shabby and darker than the rest. it was an older part but not historical, more rundown but not enough to call it the bad area of town. Just as she passed a rather unstable wearhouse she herd the middle of a massive fight, peaking in she saw a random guy seemingly fighting off a dozen or more giant dog like things. She stepped back and watched a little though figuring the guy in the middle was outmatched. Shockingly it was the other way around, the ‘dogs‘ were the ones completely outmatched it was amusing. Eventually it ended and she leaned there by the door ignored as he looked around the building coated in the bloody remains complaining guess it was time to show herself “how are you going to clean up your mess?”[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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Post by izzy2 on Jan 24, 2012 20:11:05 GMT -5
Never felt this way before... [/u] -----------------------------------------
It wasn't that Mal enjoyed killing. Far from it, in fact. He had given up the portion of his life dedicate to violence centuries ago. It was a youthful compulsion, a weakness of the spirit, that drive to inflict suffering upon others. The spear he carried was a remnant from those times, but it had changed, just as he had. No longer was its sole purpose the death of others. It was a protection, a shield for some. Of course, he still wasn't a guardian or someone to swoop from the night to save people. He only fought for certain people, and really one in particular, but she wasn't around, so he had to content himself with doing the same things that she had once done. Her and that pack of hers. Misfits, most of them, but under her, they had a purpose. Ferals weren't the easiest people to hunt, but Siren Evenings, over the years, seemed to have narrowed it down to a science. Of course, she had never wanted him to come with her, and he had respected her wishes back then, but with her gone for so long, he had needed something to do.
His eyes gleamed gold at the sound of a voice, and he turned, feral eyes and bestial canines gleaming in the moonlight for a moment before he relaxed again, his eyes glancing over the newcomer. Well, this was... different. There were quite a few spikes in that ensemble of hers. Despite that, it wasn't really the kind of clothing one usually wore in this part of the city. Certainly far removed from his current get up of a long leather duster over a tee shirt and some plain jeans.
The girl raised a fair point though, he thought, looking back at the bodies, twisting and contorting back to their original human form. There was still plenty of fur lying around, though. It might just look as if the people had been attacked by a group of lycans. Except for the missing clothes, of course...and the marks that had obviously been made by a blade of some kind, and not the ragged claws of the average werewolf. Who, then, would be blamed for the mess? Not a lycan, that was for sure. He was sorely tempted to simply let it sit. "Honestly, girl." He sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. "You sound like you're addressing some lost puppy on the street. This 'mess', as you call it, can take care of itself. This is the cesspool of the city. Death, disease, and mayhem are everyday occurrences here."
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Why do you make this so...
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 24, 2012 22:09:39 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;]
She just stood there and stared when the other turned to look towards her nearly shifting. Or so she judged from the sudden change in eyes, guess he was still a little jumpy after the fight, understandable somewhat. At least she figured out what had given him the upper hand, there was a beast inside that helped out with strength something she knew all to well. She'd accepted the risk of dying a few years back and knew that lovely changing everytime the full moon showed it's face but when she was told it'd help her out a little, give her more strength, agility and heightened senses plus it takes a hell of a lot to bring them down, all perfect for being Russian mafia, it was near impossible to refuse it and she was honestly given a choice unlike most. It paid off to be 'daddy's girl' in that situation, that and the fact she was devoted and skilled though it caused her to spend a few good years in prison, more than once mostly juvenile but still.
The rain clouded her sense of smell o she couldn't right away tell just what this guy was though right now she honestly didn't care, she didn't recognize him so he wasn't like herself, not a jaguar. She wasn't interested so didn't mention anything.
She continued to study him, not budging just yet glancing back only once to see the 'dogs' changing into butchered people. They weren't dogs apparently but werewolves causing her to wonde just how strong and/or skilled the guy was to be able to take down so many of them alone. Then he spoke and she looked back. She sighed slightly and replied " this place may be a 'cesspool' but the 'mess' can still land you a few years in prison especially if the bodies can be placed with names" She paused slightly "I suggest pulling out their teeth and chopping their fingers off since setting this place on fire is too obvious and doing that will guarantee they won't be identified" there was another pause "you honestly think I didn't know what I was saying didn't you?" [/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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Post by izzy2 on Jan 24, 2012 23:06:04 GMT -5
Never felt this way before... [/u] -----------------------------------------
What was she, Mal wondered, that she could remain so calm in this situation. Certainly not a human. If she had been human, she would have fled long ago. There were strange, twisted humans out there, but they weren't the type to approach others in this way. Also, that way she spoke, so sure, almost cocky, really. His eyes faded back to their regular emerald green, curiosity sparking within them. For a moment, he let all of his other senses fade away, inhaling through his nose. The rain masked a good deal of the scent around him, but there was always something there. All one had to do was... And there it was. She was a were, sure enough, but not a wolf like him. There was a definite feline taint to that scent of hers. One of the larger cats, then? Leopard? Jaguar? Without actually seeing her shift, it would be impossible to tell. He sighed. It didn't really matter what she was. It explained the smell, the eyes. There were still unanswered questions, though.
With a small sigh, he stretched out his right wrist, rotating it to remove the stiffness. Sometimes, it felt like the age was getting to him after all. Time slipped by sometimes, and if he wasn't paying attention to it, it could do so without him noticing. He didn't do any work, leastways not what most other people would consider a job. His money came from sources deep in his past that were constantly shifting, due to the current day's financial climate. His once transient lifestyle had settled after meeting Sie, but he still felt the urge from time to time. Every time it came back, it was stronger than ever. He couldn't leave. Not while there was a chance she would come back. After all, he had promised.
His eyebrows pinched slightly at her suggestion. That was not a normal solution. In fact, that, given her eurasian appearance... His eyes glanced over her again. "I don't think you understand, girl. My existence itself denotes execution, in case you haven't remembered the illegality of being a werewolf in this country. What should I care of a few small bodies?" His eyes fell, and a note of pity entered his voice as he looked back at the bodies. "These younglings gave up their humanity years ago. They have no names. They never will again." He frowned slightly, his hand stroking his chin. "Your solution, though... I've seen that done before. Funny thing, though, was that that was back during my time in Moscow. That mafia... had a very thorough way of finishing things... Always have..."
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Why do you make this so...
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 25, 2012 1:42:41 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;] Continuing to watch him she started noticing the odd ticks, though strong the guy certainly had a physical weakness the straining joint in the wrist was unconsciously shown may be it was the same else where, she kept a mental note on it who knows if that'd be useful later on.
She nearly dead panned hearing him she both didn't know that being a were in this country was a reason to sentence someone to death. How was she suppose to know that she was so used to the authorities throwing them into the prisons like everyone else except the willing vampires once in a while. The weres regardless of what they were we usually thrown in the same room if they were outed for obvious reasons bothed packs would form to ensure their survival inside and sometimes outside the compounds. This and the fact she'd only been a were for about 5 years and only 2 of them in this city and 1 of them in a group of her own kind mant although he was powerful and strong she was extremely in experienced, she remembered the random helpful calls saying it was obvious she knew nothing and this instance was proof. She really needed to learn the ropes before people took advantage of it. She quickly covered it up a little "oh right, forgot that part, just figured it was easier to not get caught by taking care of the formalities guess that's taken care of on it's own being in this part of the city"
She straightened up quickly getting off the wall hearing the next part of it, he knew where the techniques came from and could pinpoint the city she was from. The only question is if he knew who she was exactly.How many people in this city already figured it out, did everyone stick their nose where it didn't belong "Ai, the techniques are fool proof in any case, hardly any victims can be identified once found in that state as they're usually stripped as well" she paused "it wasn't uncommon to come across them if you turned into the wrong street" She went to once again cover up the truth a little before adding a quick "when were you in Moscow? if that's ok to ask" [/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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Post by izzy2 on Jan 25, 2012 15:26:47 GMT -5
Never felt this way before... [/u] -----------------------------------------
Mal stopped stretching his wrist. If she truly hadn't known that being a shapeshifter was illegal here, that helped to confirm his original guess. She wasn't originally from the states, but then again, neither was he. In the rain, it was difficult to get any scent at all from the girl. All he had was that feline tang in the air. Almost absentmindedly, his green eyes shifted back to the interior of the warehouse. It was certainly covered in bodies and blood, but dirt and grime made up the remaining seventy five percent. The place hadn't been cleaned in what looked like years. It was probably because of the neighborhood. Nobody lived in this part of downtown. The warehouses and alleys were deserted aside from the occasional stray cat. An interesting conclusion, given the girl standing before him. What to do, what to do? It seemed unlikely that she was very old, given her lack of knowledge about the states. If only he could get a better scent on her... Inside the warehouse, the smell of blood was rising. Outside, the rain was still falling, and showed no signs of slowing down. Any scents would be muted until the weather dried up. Curiosity touched his features for a moment. Who was this girl, to be so at ease with such a suggestion?
His open guess, it seemed, hit closer to home than he had originally intended. Could something that drastic be simply considered 'taking care of the formalities'? For some civilizations, certainly, but those times had died centuries ago. Only small sects of humanity still considered such acts acceptable for certain circumstances. They were all considered criminals, by human law, at least. The Japanese Yakuza made the list, along with various mafias across the globe. Each organization, however, seemed to have its own unique quirks, and the removal of the teeth was something that the Russian mafia had originally brought forth to conceal themselves from the rising practice of using dental records for identification. All of that aside, he doubted that these creatures would have any records remaining after the amount of time they'd been feral. Their bodies were thin, wasted away, their teeth warped and twisted from attempts to chew through bone in their weaker, pale forms.
They had been turned against their will, their humanity stripped from them. In their frenzied terror, their own attempts to find it again had backfired, driving them further into the blackened, twisted grip of insanity. He knew the taste of that insanity, but he had never truly sampled it himself. Unlike them, after all, he had never had a claim to humanity from the beginning. Even in birth, those many centuries ago, he had been a werewolf, a pureblood, some called it. He had never paid much attention to that pretentious title. Every were had the same genes running through their blood, whether born with the traits, or given them in life, forcibly or not.
For that reason, he had never looked down upon the ones who had been turned. There was pity there, especially for the ones who allowed the change to twist their minds to the breaking point. "You know, it's easy not to get caught if you never existed in the first place." he grinned, shrugging slightly. "Which I suppose makes me quite different from most of the people in this city." Mal paused, his thoughts drifting through his head by their own volition. "To tell the truth, I travel a lot, or I used to, at least. The last time I was in Moscow was about..." He frowned, gathering his past again. Centuries, after all, tended to blend into each other after a while. "Ten years ago, maybe. Or five... I think it was five. The last significant visit would have been ten. I stayed a couple weeks that time. I had a few jobs to take care of, after all. And you? When were you last in that city, девушка?"
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Why do you make this so...
[/u] [/center][/blockquote][/blockquote] девушка - devushka - girl (in Russian) |
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 25, 2012 16:55:28 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;] The rain started falling harder and the umbrella started to loose it's usefulness as the run off from it was starting to soak her jeans just as much as the rain did so she closed flipped it upside down and put a bit of weight against it like a walking stick.
Never even in her times locked up had she ever thought she was insane nor fallen into insanity or from humanity especially with just about everyone in a compound trying to break it, any person that had anything to do with the authorities mostly everyone else claimed it was to toughen up and put the weaker in their places and she'd definitely toughened up and she was only in twice. If one thought about it it was just as primitive as a pack of feral dogs but this primitive society behind the walls took up most of her teen years so she was nearly raised on it.
She listened in not really caring about the first part but she still replied back "but you stand right here and you can be seen and you probably still bleed I'm sorry to burst your bubble but you certainly exist" that was all quite true if it could be seen and felt and when the rain passes smelled it was enough proof to say one existed though to data bases with out papers you were essentially dead.
She thought for a minute for the next part, he'd said 10 years back but he'd also mentioned that he'd been there more than once if the most recent one was 3 to 5 years back then well there was more looking back to do. "I was there till 3 years ago, I was born there traveled to other cities with in but most Moscow" She though a bit more "do you know a high end bar by the name of Поздно прелести (Late Delights)? I used to be the bartender there for a few years"[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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Post by izzy2 on Jan 25, 2012 18:56:12 GMT -5
Never felt this way before... [/u] -----------------------------------------
The bodies didn't matter. They were just another pile in this already death infested city. His physical existence didn't make a difference, either. As far as any governmental figure was concerned, there was no Malcolm Blacknest. That was the strange thing about living for centuries. You tended to avoid getting your name around. Especially among people that could track you down. Even more so when your existence was banned by law. Funny the way the world worked. "Sure, I exist. Just not in the eyes of the law." Even when the police did find out about the bodies, the last type of wound they would attribute it to would be a spear. A knife maybe, plenty of thugs used knives. No-one used spears any more. The weapon had faded away in the past with so many other things. Guns and knives were the weapons of the present. Any slices of stabs like the ones on the bodies in the warehouse would most likely be contributed to knife wounds. Most likely.
So she was Russian. That explained some things. Other things, he wasn't really too eager to investigate anyway. There was one other revelation, though. After one lived for a few centuries, faces tended to stick together in your memory. It helped, therefore, to be reminded of certain things. A bar name, for instance. "You looked younger back then." He said quietly, the words lingering in the air. Memories of a lifetime. Memories of a past. "If I remember correctly, there were some rumors floating around in that place. Rumors about you. Rumors about your father." He was certain she hadn't been a were back then. Had it been intentional? Or had it been forced...
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Why do you make this so...
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 26, 2012 18:20:30 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;] She gave him a look quickly, he managed to not have any papers, how he’d managed that must have been something but cause he’d mentioned places he’d been to, one really and the fact he was a were that may not be the case. As they say the walls sometimes have more than eyes or ears. “you sure about that?” She smirked “may be not to the actual law but to the Law of Thieves you can never be sure to what they really know”
She thought a bit trying to remember this guy was either completely oblivious or smart cause if anyone knew anything about her, her family and their business than the rumours were definitely no longer rumours but when her family literally partially runs the country though behind it's back it was obvious and partly accepted since even the authorities couldn't do much about it. The smart ones said nothing and gave this knowledge the cold shoulder when asked the oblivious ones were just oblivious. Both types were also kept alive cause they didn’t cause any threat.
The great thing about owning such a high end bar was that you could keep track of who came in, not many were regulars cause of the pricing though the place was popular amongst the big shots and girls looking to take advantage of these big shots, giving them what the men wanted for a hefty price. There were also others like her and her father that would regularly come in from the city they controlled following under him or part of another network in the same city all eventually controlled by him whether or not he was actually free, there were also the type from outside the city under other networks. They’d come in gossip, relay messages and news and of course confirm the completion or arrival of jobs. Of course she’d only actually worked in the bar for about 5 years and helped out underground for around 10. This one must have shown up in the 5 years, of course it was during the first year this one was definitely not a big shot and probably only showed up once or twice.“and you haven’t changed a bit” She kept a straight face for this “rumors mean nothing and yes I know which ones your talking about you obviously know more that you say, just keep it a rumor for me please” [/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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Post by izzy2 on Jan 26, 2012 21:12:55 GMT -5
Whispers of mocking death [/u] -----------------------------------------
Times changed people, or people changed with the times. Mal had never really been sure which one was closer to the truth. He had changed considerably since his creation, and not just physically. Everything in the world aged. Sometimes, the physical changes stopped. Mal and the other immortal species of the world were prime examples of that. Centuries of life, and he still had the appearance of a man in his prime. The mind was the one thing that continued to age. "In the past..." he mused quietly, not really directing the words at anyone. "I started three different wars. Isn't that interesting? Three wars. I passed on the messages, I struck the first blows. It was much easier to do that when everyone wore armor, of course. Hard to see someone's face when they're wearing a helmet. If the armor didn't come back after the battle, it was assumed that the warrior didn't either. Easier times." He sighed. Laws had only made it harder to get around, but there had always been ways. It wasn't only money that made the world go round. There were other ways to move around. Even airplanes, despite their limited size, had places where one could stow away. There weren't many patrols in the cargo bay after take off, after all.
Mal doubted that she actually remembered him. People at her age, or her near apparent age, weren't exactly focused on the past. By this time, Mal's memory was accustomed to being forgotten, so much so that he had found it easy enough to drag up certain moments when he needed it. A mental filing system, in a way. He could remember every minute of each of his visits to Russia. He had to concentrate quite a bit, admittedly, but the memories would come, especially if they were stimulated by another source. In that case, he knew her name. Nika Kipiryanov, daughter of the man who ran the Moscow chapter of the Russian Mafia. Not exactly the first person he would expect to meet in the dingy back streets of New Orleans. "Rumors and hearsay are a dangerous thing indeed." He said, inclining his head to her. "So if you wish this particular rumor ignored, consider it a passing matter."
He was beginning to wonder if her interest in this matter ran deeper than a passing one. "Tell me, then... Miss Bartender. What brings you to New Orleans? You can't tell me it's the nightlife. There's more thugs and thieves here than there are vampires. Hell, the two aren't even mutually exclusive anymore." A small smile crept onto his face. "But, if you ask me, the daughter of the Kipiryanov family doesn't cross international borders to pick up a job tending bar."
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Stop teasing me...
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Post by lalala145 on Jan 30, 2012 23:43:26 GMT -5
[atrb= cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,1px,true][atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; padding: 10px; background: url(http://i55.tinypic.com/oifbcx.jpg); border: 3px solid #060812, bTable][style=font-size: 40px; color: #adbbfe; font-family: andalus; font-variant: italic; text-shadow: #3f4d89 2px 2px 2px; text-align:center; background: #141937; line-height:30px; border: solid 3px #060812;width:413px;]✥Nika Kipiryanov✥[/style][style=width:413px;][/style] [style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 2px;]I Kneel To No one[/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 10px; font-family: monotype corsiva; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; border-left: solid 3px #141937; border-right: solid 3px #141937; border-top: solid 3px #141937; margin-top: -27; line-height:11px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right;]understand or you'll pay dearly;[/style]
[style=width:413px; font-size: 12px; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #adbbfe; background: #060812; border: solid 3px #141937; text-align: left; margin-top: -16;] She listened in for the moment taking in the words.So explains how this one could easily take out the pack of wolves with a simple spear, he was trained through time to be able to fight and from the sounds of it was also good with diplomacy. Then there was that little detail mentioned with the armour "the one's in the full suit of armour were all the filthy rich lords, you must have had talent there weren't very many of them. It couldn't have been morals, there are none in a war, just survival and glory" Ok the last part came from some of the older people in her family, the last name surly did go quite far back and that thinking was the view on life basically, they'd always been Thieves of the Law and the recent generations surviving what could be known as a living hell basically after that there were no morals to life, just survive and glory, you were suppose to acquire both how ever you can. That was certainly perfected in a way over the years.
Ok she didn't exactly know who this person was by name just the fact that he'd been a customer and that was about it, her father knew him a bit better through his network cause people talk quite a bit with out knowing he'd been around his own business far longer than she had, his 20 something years compared to her 5 bar tending. She smirked slightly "good, be happy I asked some would give no warning and take you out, with a bullet to the head" so the obvious secret was still safe, probably cause he didn't care but it was still good.
She thought a bit still keeping the smirk for a little "I was tired of the cold harsh winters you see," she paused for a little bit " I wanted to go to a place where the sunflowers actually can grow" ok that was obviously total bullshit but she wasn't trying to fool anyone, it wasn't possible when they already know everything anyways "you should have a little more faith, you already know I have quite the talent for tending the bar and it pays quite well," She paused again and strengthened the smirk "and a thug doesn't even compare and that's quite a fact" [/style]
[style=width:413px;font-size: 12px; font-family: tahoma; color: #adbbfe; background: #141937; letter-spacing: 1px; border: solid 3px #060812; text-shadow: #3f4d89 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center; margin-top: -16;]✥ words; xxx ✥ tags; ?? ✥ extras;Outfit ✥ credit aki ✥[/style]
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