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Lyric

0 · 314 views · located in Rose City & Moon Forest

a character in “Bitten: The Rivalry”, as played by WittyWriter88

Description

Lyric
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Full Name:
Tatiana Xantho Nightingale
Nickname:
Lyric: Since faeries typically do not give out their actual names, Tatiana goes by Lyric and only that. As far as everyone knows that is her actual name(unless they know faerie lore). Faeries do not give out their real names because it gives others "power" over them. They look at their names like sacred artifacts. If someone were to know Lyric's full, actual name they could summon her anywhere at any time. Hence the reason she gives her name to no one. However, after the first one hundred years of knowing Emmanuel..She finally told him her actual name, just incase he ever needed her, and she wasn't with him(which is rare). Besides herself, he's the only one that knows it.
Though he knows her real name, Emmanuel does have multiple nicknames for Lyric. One is "Mutt," he calls her that just to tease her for being a hybrid. Another is dear, which she finds odd, always thinking of the animal. Sweetie is another one, and he has a couple others, most being affectionate. After awhile, she came up with nicknames/pet names for him. She likes them, and loves giving them..

Age :
She stopped counting years and years and years ago. She is ageless.
Gender:
Female
Role:
An Extra(Emmanuel's Closest Friend); Nina Dobrev

Appearance:
Lyric has three different "forms:" her Human Glamour, her Actual State-of-Being, and finally her Wolf Form. Wearing her human glamour Lyric stands at the measely height of 5'5". She takes the form of a petite, light-boned woman with creamy colored skin, lightly tanned. Though she is not what you would call "tall," the little height she does have is made in her long, smooth legs. Those legs lead to sturdy thighs, having dainty hands and feet. Though Lyric's figure in her human glamour is not "curvacious," she does a gentle curves in places needed. Her hair color is that of dark chocolate and falls in natural, loose curls to the lower part of her back (looking black when it is wet). However, sometimes she has the notion to straighten her hair and does so using practical magic. Lyric's facial features in this form are soft, giving off false innocence. Her jawline is smoothly defined, nose rounded like a button. Having almond-shaped eyes almost as black as night, it's hard to tell they're actually deep brown. You have to be extremely close to even realize they aren't the color of a raven's feather. Those eyes are surround by thick, long black eyelashes that cast shadows upon her high cheekbones when she blinks. Lyric's voice is light, soft, and musical abling her to sweet-talk her way out of practically any situation. Due to her faerie hertiage it is even said that her voice is hypnotic. Her teeth are straight and white as well. As for clothes..She loves the human attire. However, she dresses more for comfort. Jeans, skinny jeans, tee shirts, long-sleeved tees. Whatever she feels like. However, she's been known to dress up on occasion.

In her Actual State Lyric has many noticable changes. First, she "shrinks" to the height of 5'2", losing three whole inches. Her skin takes on a light purple-ish hue to it mingling with peach in color. Through-out her hair are many blue, purple, and green-ish tints. Along her skin appear a lot of vine-like and water tattoos, only gently visable. A swirly type tattoo coming from her right eye. Lyric's eyes change rather dramatically themselves. Moving from their dark color they take on in her glamour they swirl, turning a liquid silver. However, through out those liquid silver eyes are blue and green specks, a golden hue around her pupils. Those pupils change as well, turning into a cat-like slits. Though, unlike most faeries Lyric does not have wings. The werewolf blood she received from her father canceled that out. Her ears take on a slight point, like an elf's, and her canines become pointed at the tips.

Lyric's wolf form is a bit different than an actual, full-blooded werewolf's. Her wolf form isn't nearly as big. Where regular werewolves have wolf forms the size of full-grown horses, her's is the size of a mere pony. This is due to the fact that her faerie blood is a lot stronger than the werewolf blood coursing through her veins. In her wolf form she is petite and slim, her pelt is a light, chocolate-y brown color, and her eyes are silver(like in her actual state). However, her wolf doesn't seem to be completely "there." It takes on a misty state, like she's "ghost-like." But! She is solid, able to attack in that form, like all the others. She is fast, but not as strong as most werewolves.

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Personality:
Like practically all faeries, Lyric has a very..Different personality. She's highly intelligent and picks up on things relevantly fast, though she likes to let on that she doesn't. She loves getting information from people and hates not knowing things, not knowing the outcome of something. Lyric is naturally wary when first meeting someone, always calculating and watching them. She doesn't trust easily, yet gets attached fast. Once she likes someone she just does. Saying she's possessive is a bit much, but she is slightly the jealous type. It's a faerie thing. She does not appreciate other's trying to take the ones she cares about away from her. Okay, maybe possessive is a word you could use to describe her, but not obsessively so. For a long time Lyric was alone, now having a "family" makes her clingy, to say the most. She does lose interest in objects and people fast, though. To those she likes and "cares about" she is rather sweet and nice, almost shy(bashful) around those people. She doesn't like to let them down, and hates being scolded. However, there are not many people Lyric really likes or trusts for that matter. Emmanuel is one of those people she likes though, and truly trusts. She's known him practically all his life, after all, always seen with him. Surprisingly he is one thing she hasn't lost interest in.
Also around those that she likes Lyric is a complete tease. She loves to joke around and make others laugh, and smile. Fiesty is another word to describe her. She loves playing fighting and wrestling with those she's comfortable with, that being a werewolf quirk of her's. She adores play wrestling, especially when it is with Emmanuel.
Lyric is indeed a physical person. It's not that she tries to be, but she just is. She's seen touching people constantly, talking to them or not. May it be for comfort to them or her own personal amusement. She does like being amused. Around people she does not like Lyric is sarcastic and blunt, always being "witty." She can be harsh and say hurtful things, only if she does not like you that is. She doesn't like many people.
Another quirk about Lyric is that she's fairly emotional for a faerie. She can cry at the drop of a hat(being hurt easily), get excited in random bursts of energy, or extremely angry in the blink of an eye. Something like a storm coming your way..

Species:
Lyric is a Hybrid of two different species. A Faerie(of the Naiad type, though some speculate her mother was both a Naiad and Dryad) and a Werewolf. Her mother a fey, father a werewolf. She does not remember her parents(only their species, naturally) nor ever being born. She has strength greater than a humans', yet not greater than a full-blooded werewolfs'. Though, her speed might excell greater than a werewolfs', it being much better than any humans'. With her werewolf blood Lyric can also shift into a slim, chocolate colored wolf. However, her Faerie nature is quite a bit stronger than her wolfish one. She has a lot of fey traits. Like a faerie, she can hide her natural state with a glamour that makes her look human. Also, she cannot lie..At all it seems. But, she can twist words that are true to trick people terribly. Like a werewolf Lyric can heal quicker than your average human, but not that fast. If the wound is deep enough she can bleed out. Iron does affect her as well, like a fey. If it pierces her skin anywhere it could possibly kill her, at the least make her sick and as weak as water for awhile.
Another trait Lyric has picked up over her many many years of living is "teleporting." Most faeries can pick up on it eventually. She can teleport to any person(as long as she knows them) and any place(as long as she's seen it in person or a picture). But, unlike many fey Lyric doesn't have wings, however, in place of wings she can levitate. Also, being a Naiad, she can manipulate water, though it does take a toll on her after awhile.

Likes:
+ Getting her way
+ Sweets
+ Tricks/Jokes/Teasing
+ Foooddd
+ Emmanuel
+ Warmth: Because she is naturally cold.
+ Books
+ Nicknames/ Pet Names/ Names in General
+ Knowing things, Information
+ Animals
+ Rain: or any other form of water for that matter..
+ Laughter
+ Men, Sex
+ A lot of Other Things..

Dislikes:
- Extreme Heat
- Almost all other Girls..
- Being Disliked/Ignored
- Hunters
- Iron
- Soda(Coke, Pepsi, etc.): it burns her throat
- Storms!!
- Loud Noises
- Being Scolded or Yelled At
- Letting People She "Care For" Down
- Snobs
- Much more, trust me..

Fears:
X STORMS:: Lyric loves the rain and lightening intrigues her, but Storms absolutely scare her to death, and send her cowering. The sounds..Are awful, in her opinion. Every time she knows it's going to storm, she stays the night in Emmanuel's room with him. If she's waken by a storm.. She goes straight to Emmanuel. It's been that way for decades now! X
X Losing Someone She Cares About:: It's been a fear of her's every since she met Emmanuel, especially since he formed the pack(though she knew him way before he done so). X
X Iron:: Twice in her life time she's been stabbed with iron. The side effects were awful, and kept her down for days sick, puking, dizy, and weak. X


History:
Lyric has always been alive, or at least, that's what she believes. She doesn't remember a childhood or parents, only where she is now. That being said, she has also forgotten a lot of her past. She loses interest in things easily, forgets them quickly, and never looks back. She met Emmanuel Cross when he was a young man, nineteen years old. She came across him, and he perked her interest, like many things do. At first she thought nothing of him, but after following him around for awhile, and getting to know him..She grew attached. Ever since he has been her closest friend, and she his(or so he tells her). She does have strong feelings for him, though she is not very accustom to human emotions..Yet tries, being around them for so long. They traveled together for a long time, then he formed the pack. She looks at them like family. Lyric is always with Emmanuel, wherever it may be. She stays with him a lot. She's only truly comfortable with him, though adores most of the pack members. Vague..Sorry!!

Theme Song(s):
Looking :3

Other:
Recently(a couple months ago) Lyric had a little disaster with magic. The incident damaged her vocal cords, and has left her mute for the time being. She cannot talk. Though, a week ago she found she could hoarsely whisper for a few moments before it made her throat start to hurt. She has been looking for a "cure," knowing this "no talking" thing is not permanent. Another faerie ability of her's is that once she makes a connection with someone she can talk to them telepathically. This is how she commincates with Emmanuel for now, and a couple other pack members.

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Italian Food, no doubt! xP

So begins...

Lyric's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Mortenson Character Portrait: Caprice Mornelli Character Portrait: Archer Thompson Character Portrait: Emmanuel Cross Character Portrait: Julien Blanche Le'Rouge Character Portrait: Lyric
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The moon, for which the great expanse of forest surrounding Rose city had been given its name, shined brightly in the sky, bathing the world with a bright silver glow. The night was a cool one. Not a cloud drifted across the velvety black sky, and the air was cool and crisp. Perfect for a dash through the woods. A quick run was what Aurora Mortenson needed to clear her head. A moment away. Then she could get back to the stressful duties of being a leader.

She sprinted at a speed impossible for any human, dodging in and out of trees with grace, leaping easily over brush, and fallen trees. Nothing was an obstacle for her.

Yet she stopped, something other than the cool night air brought goosebumps to her skin, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The smell of blood. Aurora closed her eyes and took in the scent, trying to prove herself wrong. No. This can't be her. It just can't. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and moved towards the source of the sharp, coppery smell, rounding a tree to find a body laying there on the ground, motionless.

It was a gruesome sight. The woman before her had been a beautiful one, with flowing auburn hair splashed across the ground, mingling with the blood that was still pouring from a deep wound just under her ribs. On the ground next to the woman, lay a knife. Immediatly, Aurora grabbed for it, but the woman's hand shot out and caught her wrist. "Aurora." She whispered in a hoarse voice, clogged with blood, and she couldn't take it anymore. The indifferent look dropped from her face and she fell to her knees beside the woman, grasping her hand tightly.

"Charlise!" She choked, using her free hand to smooth the woman's hair. "Charlise, please. Where... Where were you? What happened?" She looked at her friend in a panic. This dying woman was the last remaining tie she had to her human life. She'd known her for over two-hundred years. Had taken her in when her coven was destroyed, only for her to go missing a few months ago. The loss had nearly killed Aurora, but she'd had to work through it. For her coven.

"Aurora. I don't-" She heaved a shaky breath and Aurora saw that the gash under the woman's ribs had punctured her lungs. "I don't have much... Much time." Shakily, Charlise lifted her free hand to Aurora's cheek and Aurora used her own to clasp it there and close her eyes tightly. "The werewolves. Make peace with them."

That startled her into opening her eyes. "What?" She asked breathlessly, but it was too late. Her friend was gone. Aurora let out a groan of agony and leaned over Charlise's cold body, clutching her lifeless hand to her chest. It was all she could do not to cry. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here." She choked and dropped her friends hand after quite a while of sitting there like that, refusing to believe that she was really gone.

Gently, she placed Charlise's hands in a cross against her chest and closed the woman's eyes before reaching across her and grabbing the blade that had killed her. It was still coated with her blood, but the sheen of silver was unmistakable. No werewolf could have killed her. So who did? Aurora looked at her friend in confusion. Why were her dying words about the werewolves?

Knees shaking for the first time in almost two centuries, Aurora stood unsteadily and took a step backwards. Something crunched under her foot and she reached down to grab the small item. It was a figurine. Wooden and tiny. Aurora's eyebrows knit tightly in confusion as she inspected it. As she did so, something caught her eye. A glimmer in the trees. Aurora tucked the figurine away and gripped the knife handle tightly, smelling the air. Of course. The smell of Charlise's blood had masked another scent in the air.

They had a watcher. Her killer had stayed to gawk. Aurora's icy eyes filled with hatred and vengeance as she threw herself at the bushes, knife raised high.


Aurora Mortenson emerged from her bathroom in a cloud of steam. With a sigh, she ran a thick black brush through golden blond hair and sat on her bed, checking the clock. Two in the morning. Not a bad time for a vampire to be just getting ready for bed. Not bad at all, in fact, most of her coven was probably still wide awake. She'd just gotten back from a midnight investigation into the murders and disappearences that had been happening lately . Her findings had shocked her and she'd needed a good bath to think. Now, sitting on her bed, she placed the brush down and picked up the small figurine sitting on her bedside table.

The figure was one of a woman, pulling a bow back, ready to shoot. She closed her fingers around it, squeezing harder and harder until there was a brief second of pain and then the thing snapped in two. Just like that. A month ago, her closest friend had gone missing, vanishing out of no where.

Tonight, Aurora had found the huntress figurine laying beside her mangled body. She had had to use all her willpower to force herself to inspect the wounds and after careful examination, found exactly what she'd feared. None of the marks were werewolf claw marks or bites.

Meaning someone else had done this. Someone who'd left the figurine. Aurora glared at the broken thing in her hand, demanding it to provide her tired mind with a logical answer. Sadly, it did not answer her and she sighed, setting it aside and standing to change into her white nightgown.

As soon as she stood, Aurora was forced to sit again. A blinding white light seared through her eyes, burning her, and making her scream. As a vampire , one of her greatest fears was blindness, but just as she'd thought she'd never see again, the light dimmed and the pain subsided.

Aurora found herself panting hard and she slapped a hand down on her bed to reassure herself that she was okay. Her hand struck paper. She looked down to see that she'd smacked a yellowed letter that had certainly not been there a moment ago. What the hell had just happened? Confused, Aurora lifted the letter delicately and read through it.

She dropped it, letting it float gently to the floor at her feet. For the first time in a hundred years, her hands shook with shock as she quickly threw on her lace nightgown and grabbed the letter. Without even stopping for slippers or a robe, Aurora marched straight down the hall, white lace billowing behind her as she moved purposefully.

She knew what she had to do. She wasn't going to like it, and neither was her coven, but it had to be done. According to the letter, it was the only logical solution. After what she'd seen in the woods earlier, she knew she was making the right choice. Reaching Julien's room, she gave the door a rough knock. "Julien! Get your lazy ass out here! There's something we need to talk about." She paused. "Bring Fox too, I'm sure she's in there."

Aurora would call a coven meeting, but she knew doing it in this state would do more harm than good. Her coven had never so much as seen a flicker of distress on her face. If they saw her now, eyes wild and desperate, expression grim, tear stains streaking her cheeks, they would surely panic. Besides, this was a matter for the leader and the second alone. She'd made her decision. The others would either live with it or have to find a new coven. That's how things usually worked around the mansion anyway. The only reason she wanted Fox there, was to deliver a message. The faerie had the ability to teleport, and since she wasn't technically bound to her coven, Aurora couldn't exactly order her around, so she let the girl stay with the small condition of a few minor favors here and there.

Growing impatient, she knocked again. "Julien." She hissed into the door, wincing at the way her voice cracked. "It's urgent."

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Caprice Mornelli sat in her office, a stack of files in her lap. Her clock read two in the morning, and as she worked, she held a cup of coffee in one hand, heels propped up on her desk almost carelessly. Large brown eyes scanned line after line of tiny 8 pt font, not even tired despite the late hour. She was used to late nights. Not only was Caprice a workaholic, but there was also no better time to catch a vampire or slay a werewolf than two or three in the morning.

Or apparently read files.

A disturbance at her door made Caprice look up, one eyebrow hooked upwards as if to say: "Can't you see I'm busy?"
At her door stood her messenger. He wasn't good for much, but he knew how to protect himself at least. Sad really, what became of her fellow Cacciatori members who really had no skill. "What is it Albert?" She asked rather impatiently.

"Its Jace, Miss Mornelli." The man said sheepishly.

"And? What about him? Because short if him being dead, there is absolutely no reason for you to bother me while I'm working." She said annoyed. As if to prove a point, Caprice stood, towering over the man.

"Uhm.. Actually.. He is dead. Killed by a vampire just now."


And with that, Albert scampered out of the room barely missing the vase that was pitched at his head when she'd registered what he'd said . "WHAT?!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs, the photo on her desk rattling violently. Jace was dead? How? He was one of her top men. She shook her head. Damn vampires, if you wanted something done right you had to do it yourself.

Sitting, Caprice managed to calm herself again and think logically. Papers forgotten, she grabbed for the phone. The secretary's voice came, asking her who she wanted. "Archer please." she said an waited a minute. Since most agents were at the office either for last minute paperwork or a late night hunt, it only too Jace's brother a second to answer. "Archer, yes, its Caprice. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but Jace has been killed by a vampire. I would like you in my office right now please." Her voice was pleasant and sympathetic as she spoke, a completely misleading. She set down the phone and dropped her head into her hands with a groan. Her men were the equivalent of assassins. Silent, and dangerous, able to kill and cover up their tracks. She rarely lost anyone on the job. Jace's death was shocking.

"Uhm... Is- Uh, is this a bad time?" Albert's voice came again from her doorway.

"Was the vase not a good enough indication that I would like you to stop bothering me Albert or would you like a stapler too? I won't miss this time." She hissed into her hands and dropped one to pick up the stapler. Looking up, she popped it open and raised one eyebrow. "This better be good."

Albert shifted nervously and contemplated telling her. Caprice rolled her eyes and raised the stapler. It had the desired effect and got him to get on with it. "Jace's partner just returned. We know who killed him."

"Good boy. Bring him here." She said with a smile, waiting as Albert brought in Jace's partner, who shifted. "Well... Get on with it." She hissed clicking the stapler.

"It was a bloodsucker for sure. We were out hunting and found this one... She was familiar. You remember that old coven we'd burned a while back, a few cities off? She had been their leader. Apparently she got away." He paused, whether for dramatic affect or to irritate her, she didn't know. "So that's who killed him?" She rolled her eyes, hating when people danced around the point. "No ma'am. He killed that bitch, but as he was retreating another one showed up. I was well gone by then, but I turned back to see what was taking so long. When I'd arrived she was crouched over his body, holding his Artemis lucky figurine. Then she just took off. I'm lucky to be alive."

Caprice groaned. "That's great, but you do realize if it had been you and not Jace I would have a much better fighter left? From the way it sounds, all you did was run off." She rolled his eyes. "Your mistake of not killing that other vampire a while back got you into this mess to begin with. Now who killed him? I might forgive you if you give me a name."

He looked shocked, but stepped forward to the files on her desk. He shifted through the vampire ones before he came to two blond girls. Here he hesitated and Caprice leaned on the edge of her seat. One was the vampire coven leader herself and the other was one of the normal coven members. After close consideration, he selected the picture of Aurora. "This one." He stated plainly before turning and leaving. Caprice smiled and lifted the picture. If little miss Aurora had killed one of her men, then she knew about the Cacciatori. It was about time she was brought in for a little good torture and questioning.

With a grin, she leaned back in her chair and awaited Archer's arrival.

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Thunder rolled outside and Emmanuel slept peacefully, dreaming of things like fields and rabbits. Huge rabbits. The wolf side of him couldn't help but dream of the soft little snacks every time he closed his eyes. They were delicious, succulent little appetizers. This time though, his dreams were interrupted by a soft noise in his head.

Are you asleep?

A voice that wasn't his intruded on his dream and Emmanuel blinked his eyes open slowly, groaning. The room was dark and he blinked twice to let his eyes adjust. Before him, was the window and his nightstand, since he was a side sleeper. With one glance at the window, he knew who was behind him. There was a wild storm raging outside. Quickly, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 2:05 a.m.

With a tired sigh, Emmanuel rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow to see his visitor. Just as he'd suspected. The connection in his head could have been any one of the pack members. They could communicate telepathically. But with the storm outside, it could only be one person. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by yellow hall light stood the small form of his closest friend. Lyric.

She was half faerie and half werewolf, her fey half making her immortal like himself, he'd met her ages ago and they'd been together ever since. Not romantically, but in a close friendship. He smiled at her softly and held out his hand to grab hers and pull her to the bed. "Well I was asleep." He said, answering her question. "But that's okay. Come on Mutt." He teased and patted the spot next to him with a smile.

He knew she was afraid of storms and every time there was one, he let her sleep with him. Not sexually, just for comfort. Once she was laying down next to him, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed. She was naturally cold, being more fey than werewolf, and he was naturally warm, being completely werewolf.

Emmanuel looked down at her with a smile. "Better?" He asked into the darkness, feeling completely at ease as he silently wondered if everyone else was awake yet. Werewolves rarely slept through storms.

Little did he know life for him and his pack was about to be flipped on it's ass in the manor of an hour.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Mortenson Character Portrait: Fox Character Portrait: Emmanuel Cross Character Portrait: Julien Blanche Le'Rouge Character Portrait: Lyric
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Aurora let out a small sigh of relief when Julien stepped up to handle the vampire for her. She was in no mood to deal out trivial punishments for minor things. When she told him they were moving in with the werewolves, he played it off like he didn't care with a simple "Yea? Just a vacation or an extended stay?" but in reality, she could see the signs. He was outraged.

Then Fox took the letter and disappeared, and Aurora felt a small weight, no matter how tiny, lift from her shoulders. Getting Fox to relay the message to Emmanuel wasn't actually that hard, thankfully. Arguing with, and threatening the faerie was something that hadn't been on her top ten things to do that night.

One she was gone, Julien mumbled something under his breath. "God, the sooner she picks a new favorite..." But he was stopped up short as he looked at her suddenly. She gave him a confused look as he stepped close to her and lifted her hair to his nose. "We need to talk," he grabbed her wrist, then muttered something to Trix before dragging her into his room and closing the door behind them.

"God Julien, yes, I showered, I know I smell good." She said, yanking her wrist out of his. "But now's really not the time to-"

But he cut her off. "Charlise... Charlise," he said. Obviously having trouble grasping what he was thinking. "God, Aurora, why do you smell like that? Like blood?" So that had been why he'd smelled her hair. Under her shampoo, he'd caught Charlise's scent.

She groaned and leaned back against the door, giving up the fight against trying to hide it. "She's dead Julien." She shook her head and looked at the floor, the ceiling, the bed behind him, anything but his face. "I.. I found her tonight. Dying. In the woods." She shook her head, unable to make complete sentences as she raised her grief-stricken blue eyes to meet his. "I could have been there- If I'd run a little bit faster... I could have stopped it."

"Please don't argue with me on this werewolves thing." She sighed. There it was again. That word. Please. She'd used it twice in one night already. Anyone who knew her, knew she didn't ask for things, she ordered them. "I know what I'm doing, it's for our safety."

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she said loudly. The statement was less heartbroken and more accusatory. She took a deep breath, blew it out of her nose, and then sat up straight in the bed. "Oh," she said, registering the scents in the room. She yanked back the covers to reveal the little brown-haired half-fey. "Is that you, madra?" Madra was the Gaelic word for dog. Fox could never help but call Lyric that. Fox squealed and gave the girl a hug. She then climbed bodily over her to get to Emmanuel. "Wake up, Lover. she said very quickly and all at once, bouncing energetically on the bed.

Something flopped onto Emmanuel's bed, making it bounce. "Twice now, I find my lover's bed full. Is there no one in this world who cares about me?"

Emmanuel groaned loudly and rolled over. He was just about to fall back asleep. "Fox." He hissed into the dark at her. "Don't be so dramatic, you know there's nothing romantic between me and Lyric." Rolling his eyes, he carefully turned on his side, away from Lyric and towards Fox, moving silently as not to wake her.

"I have a message from Aurora Mortensen. Do you love the half breed more than me?"

Emmanuel glanced at Lyric. "At the moment? Yes." He said with a roll of his eyes. "She'd sleeping and most of all... quiet." He whispered and sighed, sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, what's Aurora's message for me?" He asked, watching her intently.