Snippet #2635372

located in The Outskirts, a part of The Catalysts, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Outskirts

The black-hearted back country of Emperia city.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucielle Thorn Character Portrait: Craven
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~Craven~




Craven gave wry smile in return as he could feel the tension returning to the muscles in his forearms, as if his body wanted to press into action before he did. The wind of the outskirts brushed across his face as it changed directions for a split moment and he thought closely too himself. Several memories came to light about what she could do, though they were vague in retrospect. Several could see nothing but glancing eyes of a photo screen, with Lucielle waving her hands in the background.

"My own concerns are just that, though the idea is not an unattractive one."

Searching for more scattered information was difficult, it was like swimming through a ocean of voices and sights. Not being able to truly point out whatever was catching his eyes and ears at the moment. It was times like this that Craven really tended to dislike the way his own body was designed to act or operate. While thinking this the agitation had manifested in the form of his finger tips slowly bursting into clawed talons. Reaching nearly four inches in length, with his body slowly shifting to become wider as his mass bulked up his own muscles strength. He was working on a short line however, the only thing running in his system was the poor waiter and that was quickly burning through his body. This was just in part of the state his current form was in, rushed, frantic and nervous.

His leg tenses up as he can feel himself inch forward towards her, till a singular image replays in his mind. Her standing behind a swirly gout of flame, one of her own design and creation to be exact. A slow realization of her powers ebbs over him for a few moments as the wind shifts again and he pulls back to his standing posture. With the same wry smile as before "Heh.. Fire.. Not to be a downer, but I think my dance card has been filled for tonight. Besides.. its a new jacket."

Craven tugs on the lapel of his "new" black, jacket. Only for the touch of his hand to transfer a large stain of blood to the inside.