Setting
Default Location for Macabre: Debello's Return
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Boston, MA USA is a part of 
Macabre: Debello's Return.
7 Characters Here
Willa Thorn [76]
Ethan Orozco [71] "Pfft. Howling is for losers." ((WIP))
Sam '' Sammy'' Larson [67] She's just trying to find her place in the world.
Nicholas White-Eyes [17] I've never forgotten the taste of a shadow.
Jayson Goldsworthy [8] "Beyond the perfect image lies the darkened truth."
Debello Le'Stat [2] Beautiful, Beautiful Chaos
Zoe Charms [0] The darkness calls my name.
Start Character Here »
Sam looked up and looked around for Ethan. She looked to where she thought she heard his voice. And sure enough, she saw Ethan hiding in the shadows of the side of the building. Sam looked around and stood up, she quickly rushed over to him and said, '' Uh, what do you want?'' She said that in a way that anyone could tell she had just puked. She looked around and walked into the alley and stood next to him. Sam looked at Ethan again and then noticed he had Tiger paws and Tiger feet. Plus a Tiger tail. She quickly looked away, so he wouldn't see her looking at the other side of him. She blushed and looked at his face, she then started to blush again, since she didn't realize how good looking he really was, until now.
''Uh, what do you want?''
Ethan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. She walked over to him and he could smell something foul about her, well, besides the smell of vampire. He was going to say something, when a sudden smirk creased his lips. He took note of her blush.
“So… do you like what you see?” Ethan teased, flexing his enlarged biceps. He chuckled and stuck out his tongue from in between his large canines. His clothes still fit him well in this form, just a bit… snug. Plus, he was about another four inches taller, towering over Sam. His tail tip twitched with amusement.
“I told you I was going to meet you at the hospital. Someone has memory loss…” He joked, poking her head with his paw.
Sam looked at him and smiled. She was shocked of his size as a were, this was her first were encounter. She looked at him and said, '' Uh....I....I have a boy friend.'' She blushed and moved away from him. She then looked at him and said, '' You can smell it, can't you? The vampire part of me, plus the-'' She stopped and jerked around as she heard something coming from the other side of the alley. Sam looked at Ethan and said, '' We have company. Stay alert.'' She cracked her neck and took a deep breath, she could smell another creature, but she didn't know where he or she was.
''Uh....I....I have a boy friend.''
Ethan blinked slowly a few times. “That just makes things awkward…” He snickered jokingly.
“ You can smell it, can't you? The vampire part of me, plus the-“ Ethan was going to nod and begin shifting back when Sam suddenly tensed up. [b]''We have company. Stay alert.''[/color] Ethan himself stiffened and whipped around, his tail lashing. His claws unsheathed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley. He couldn’t see anything with his night vision, so he wondered what had spooked Sam.
“It’s probably just a dog or something. Relax.” Ethan said, standing up straight.
Sam looked at Ethan and said, '' Yeah, it does make this even more awkward.'' She said with a serious tone. She looked around and heightened her hearing. Sam then could hear a raspy breathing coming from an old, shattered window on the third floor, of the building next to them. Sam looked back at Ethan and said, '' You have a lot to learn about me then.'' She smiled and climbed up the side of the building. She peered over the window and saw an old, ugly man sitting next to the window, with a beer bottle and a sharp knife. He looked at her and attempted to stab her, Sam moved to the side and dodged the knife. She grabbed the handle and made the old man drop the knife, and it landed next to Ethan. Sam looked at the old man and said, '' Now you're coming with me.'' She picked him up by the collar of his shirt and brought him down with her.
She dropped him next to Ethan and said, '' Now Buddy, want to tell us why you were in the building? And if not, we can always make you talk.'' She said that as she bared her two fangs and sneered at the old man that was on the ground.
She dropped him next to Ethan and said, '' Now Buddy, want to tell us why you were in the building? And if not, we can always make you talk.'' She said that as she bared her two fangs and sneered at the old man that was on the ground.
You ever stare at your own shadow?
You ever see your shadow blink?
Nicholas White-Eyes stared at himself in the mirror. Or rather, he stared at himself staring at himself in the grimy mirrors of the filthy Downtown Crossing restroom. The thing that so naturally wore Nicholas's face with warm mahogany eyes wheeled around and his hand reflexively reached for the pistol at his left hip. But Nicholas was faster. A flash of grey streaked in Nicholas's hands as he strode toward to his doppelganger between the on-and-off flickering of the single strip of dim fluorescent lamp hanging overhead. He closed the distance in the space of a second.
Nicholas peeled back the silver foil cover of his colored-eye contacts as he took the sink beside his copy and began the tedious process of putting them on. The Fetch eased visibly and his left hand eased away from his firearm.
The Changeling glanced at the Fetch, the Fae "replacement" of every human to be captured and transformed by the powerful and insane True Fae. The Fetch was an eerie copy of himself; a perfect duplicate of Nicholas from his lean countenance to the salt and pepper goatee, now turning to a rough beard. A simalcrum of human life made with a bit of magical Glamour and a scattering of sticks and a policeman's badge. Yet the Fetch had the same face, same voice, same clothes, even the same smell as the original Nicholas. The only difference between the Changeling and his Fae doppelganger was the Fetch's eyes which held the color of his Nicholas's eyes before his abduction by the True Fae.
Yet the Fetch had no idea that it was anything less than Nicholas Ramirez, a veteran detective of the Chicago Police Department until that horrid morning two years from today that a thing of creeping shadow first appeared outside his window wearing his face. The Fetch represented ten years of Nicholas's missing life; it had risen to the top of his field, gotten married with a child on the way, and was thinking about moving into the suburbs. It was truly remarkable that the Changeling hadn't filled the thing with lead on their first meeting. But having been gone ten years changes one's perceptions on identity.
The two had come to an uneasy agreement. The Fetch received his Changeling's assistance on difficult cases where things just didn't seem to add up. In return the Changeling received a commission on each case. A Pledge had been struck, both shadow and simalcrum bound by the magic of the Fae Wyrd. Neither had bounds to kill each other and neither could reveal the existence of the other without incurring seven years and a moon of blindness and deafness. The creatures of the Wyrd kept their promises.
"Fetch," said the Darkling as he rapidly blinked his right eye.
"White-Eyes," said the Fetch as he turned to face the Changeling.
"No blood?" White-Eyes put in the second contact and blinked his now mahogany eyes twice.
"Like the rest." The Fetch crossed his arms. The unease had lessened but not abated.
"You must be desperate," White Eyes said.
"Yer a chatty son of a bitch you know that?" said the Fetch in a flash of petty anger as he handed White-Eyes his badge.
"Gimme fifteen minutes. I'll contact you tomorrow morning," the Darkling replied. His Fetch ripped out a page from his notes, handed it to the Changeling, and began transcribing the memorized list into the page behind it as he moved into the restroom stall and locked the door shut.
The Darkling glanced at his watch and left the restroom and onto the crime scene. He held a hand up to shield his eyes form the glare of the light and every step through the morning light was like slogging through water. As a creature of shadows, sunlight weakened him, seemed to stretch him too thin. It did not hurt Nicholas but did flip him the metaphysical bird for not bending to the rules of the mundane. The Changeling nodded to the two police officers who glanced at him crossing the yellow warning tape and joined them to discuss the state of the body and to inquire about the coroner. A single, long shadow dragged behind him, lapping up the ambient feelings of confusion and the fear hanging heavy in the air. Nicholas breathed it in deep as he went to work. He sidled up to the body and stood so that the shadow of the corpse and his own merged.
The taste was foul. Old, bitter, like a mouthful of wet pennies. Something not quite dead. And so terribly far from alive.
Twenty-five minutes later, Nicholas White-Eyes was racing up a set of stairs in an abandoned building cursing the sunlight for making his mad dash through the Chicago shadow paths difficult as he tailed a girl with a bitter shadow and a beast-man who had just found a girl with two bite marks on her neck.
You ever see your shadow blink?
Nicholas White-Eyes stared at himself in the mirror. Or rather, he stared at himself staring at himself in the grimy mirrors of the filthy Downtown Crossing restroom. The thing that so naturally wore Nicholas's face with warm mahogany eyes wheeled around and his hand reflexively reached for the pistol at his left hip. But Nicholas was faster. A flash of grey streaked in Nicholas's hands as he strode toward to his doppelganger between the on-and-off flickering of the single strip of dim fluorescent lamp hanging overhead. He closed the distance in the space of a second.
Nicholas peeled back the silver foil cover of his colored-eye contacts as he took the sink beside his copy and began the tedious process of putting them on. The Fetch eased visibly and his left hand eased away from his firearm.
The Changeling glanced at the Fetch, the Fae "replacement" of every human to be captured and transformed by the powerful and insane True Fae. The Fetch was an eerie copy of himself; a perfect duplicate of Nicholas from his lean countenance to the salt and pepper goatee, now turning to a rough beard. A simalcrum of human life made with a bit of magical Glamour and a scattering of sticks and a policeman's badge. Yet the Fetch had the same face, same voice, same clothes, even the same smell as the original Nicholas. The only difference between the Changeling and his Fae doppelganger was the Fetch's eyes which held the color of his Nicholas's eyes before his abduction by the True Fae.
Yet the Fetch had no idea that it was anything less than Nicholas Ramirez, a veteran detective of the Chicago Police Department until that horrid morning two years from today that a thing of creeping shadow first appeared outside his window wearing his face. The Fetch represented ten years of Nicholas's missing life; it had risen to the top of his field, gotten married with a child on the way, and was thinking about moving into the suburbs. It was truly remarkable that the Changeling hadn't filled the thing with lead on their first meeting. But having been gone ten years changes one's perceptions on identity.
The two had come to an uneasy agreement. The Fetch received his Changeling's assistance on difficult cases where things just didn't seem to add up. In return the Changeling received a commission on each case. A Pledge had been struck, both shadow and simalcrum bound by the magic of the Fae Wyrd. Neither had bounds to kill each other and neither could reveal the existence of the other without incurring seven years and a moon of blindness and deafness. The creatures of the Wyrd kept their promises.
"Fetch," said the Darkling as he rapidly blinked his right eye.
"White-Eyes," said the Fetch as he turned to face the Changeling.
"No blood?" White-Eyes put in the second contact and blinked his now mahogany eyes twice.
"Like the rest." The Fetch crossed his arms. The unease had lessened but not abated.
"You must be desperate," White Eyes said.
"Yer a chatty son of a bitch you know that?" said the Fetch in a flash of petty anger as he handed White-Eyes his badge.
"Gimme fifteen minutes. I'll contact you tomorrow morning," the Darkling replied. His Fetch ripped out a page from his notes, handed it to the Changeling, and began transcribing the memorized list into the page behind it as he moved into the restroom stall and locked the door shut.
The Darkling glanced at his watch and left the restroom and onto the crime scene. He held a hand up to shield his eyes form the glare of the light and every step through the morning light was like slogging through water. As a creature of shadows, sunlight weakened him, seemed to stretch him too thin. It did not hurt Nicholas but did flip him the metaphysical bird for not bending to the rules of the mundane. The Changeling nodded to the two police officers who glanced at him crossing the yellow warning tape and joined them to discuss the state of the body and to inquire about the coroner. A single, long shadow dragged behind him, lapping up the ambient feelings of confusion and the fear hanging heavy in the air. Nicholas breathed it in deep as he went to work. He sidled up to the body and stood so that the shadow of the corpse and his own merged.
The taste was foul. Old, bitter, like a mouthful of wet pennies. Something not quite dead. And so terribly far from alive.
Twenty-five minutes later, Nicholas White-Eyes was racing up a set of stairs in an abandoned building cursing the sunlight for making his mad dash through the Chicago shadow paths difficult as he tailed a girl with a bitter shadow and a beast-man who had just found a girl with two bite marks on her neck.
(Warning, mildly graphic. Debello is an evil dude. Not for the weak of heart)
His children were hungry.
In the heart of the city, surrounded by places of culture like the Museum of Fine Arts and the Isabella Stuart Gardener Museum—Debello had chosen his home carefully. He was always careful. Centuries of life had taught him patience. And good things always come to those who wait. This place had such a lovely basement, such a perfect set of un-curious neighbors who couldn’t care less their new neighbor kept such strange hours or even stranger hair styles and such perfect night scenes as well. Colleges were nearby. An easy source for prey.
His newest prey had been so very innocent and stupid. Now she was neither. Now her eyes were very open indeed. As well as her legs. As well as all of her.
Debello was never gentle. He would pretend for a moment or two that he would present his prey with endless depths of pleasure. But that moment passed quickly enough. He was hungry. And his children were hungry. They would have to feed. But first—Debello would take what he wanted from this little prey.
She had babbled something about being in Art school. He had found her at a bar nearby. One of those more modern places—clean and full of overly loud music. Overly dark corners where bouncers ignore not so polite conduct. She was easy prey, half lidded green eyes, half full of a sweet liqueur and half-witted to boot. Debello had only to suggest that she ought to rest at his place for the night. It was nearby. Too dangerous to go home alone in her state, certainly. She had believed him. So readily. So hungry in her own way. Debello did make a handsome figure, after all. His dark pin-striped silk suit. His shaggy red hair, and fierce gold eyes. She was easy enough prey.
Now, she was in his grasp. In his soundproof basement. Begging for mercy, for freedom, for him to stop. She would get none of those request fulfilled. He took her body first at knife point, roughly, hard. He bit deep into her slender shoulder until the blood ran into his mouth. Her scream of pain was arousing. So he caused more. Each scream thrummed in his un-flowing veins like blood, setting his ancient body singing with pleasure. He laughed, as she wept, drawing lines across her beautiful fragile skin with the sharp edge of a knife. Some would call him a monster. But he considered himself an artist. She was his canvas. But he wouldn’t kill her yet. Oh no. He would use her for days at a time. Keeping her alive for more screams that made him feel alive once more.. and besides, his children needed to feed as well. And when Debello was through with her, when her body and her screams and her hot sweet blood was of no more use to him—he would give her to them.
Debello settled into the comfort of his new home, looking up as on of his underlings entered, bowing.The underling reported spotting prey that would be suitable to change. Suitable to be a sacrifice. Suitable to waken the rest of his army. They had tried to take her. But she had escaped with just a bite. They would be able to find her again. They would find her quickly. They would bring her to him for use.
"Excellent." Debello's voice purred. "Bring her to me." The underlings bowed and vanished like smoke. His plan was in motion. And soon more of the Hybrids would awaken. The City would soon rise up in his chaos.
His children were hungry.
In the heart of the city, surrounded by places of culture like the Museum of Fine Arts and the Isabella Stuart Gardener Museum—Debello had chosen his home carefully. He was always careful. Centuries of life had taught him patience. And good things always come to those who wait. This place had such a lovely basement, such a perfect set of un-curious neighbors who couldn’t care less their new neighbor kept such strange hours or even stranger hair styles and such perfect night scenes as well. Colleges were nearby. An easy source for prey.
His newest prey had been so very innocent and stupid. Now she was neither. Now her eyes were very open indeed. As well as her legs. As well as all of her.
Debello was never gentle. He would pretend for a moment or two that he would present his prey with endless depths of pleasure. But that moment passed quickly enough. He was hungry. And his children were hungry. They would have to feed. But first—Debello would take what he wanted from this little prey.
She had babbled something about being in Art school. He had found her at a bar nearby. One of those more modern places—clean and full of overly loud music. Overly dark corners where bouncers ignore not so polite conduct. She was easy prey, half lidded green eyes, half full of a sweet liqueur and half-witted to boot. Debello had only to suggest that she ought to rest at his place for the night. It was nearby. Too dangerous to go home alone in her state, certainly. She had believed him. So readily. So hungry in her own way. Debello did make a handsome figure, after all. His dark pin-striped silk suit. His shaggy red hair, and fierce gold eyes. She was easy enough prey.
Now, she was in his grasp. In his soundproof basement. Begging for mercy, for freedom, for him to stop. She would get none of those request fulfilled. He took her body first at knife point, roughly, hard. He bit deep into her slender shoulder until the blood ran into his mouth. Her scream of pain was arousing. So he caused more. Each scream thrummed in his un-flowing veins like blood, setting his ancient body singing with pleasure. He laughed, as she wept, drawing lines across her beautiful fragile skin with the sharp edge of a knife. Some would call him a monster. But he considered himself an artist. She was his canvas. But he wouldn’t kill her yet. Oh no. He would use her for days at a time. Keeping her alive for more screams that made him feel alive once more.. and besides, his children needed to feed as well. And when Debello was through with her, when her body and her screams and her hot sweet blood was of no more use to him—he would give her to them.
Debello settled into the comfort of his new home, looking up as on of his underlings entered, bowing.The underling reported spotting prey that would be suitable to change. Suitable to be a sacrifice. Suitable to waken the rest of his army. They had tried to take her. But she had escaped with just a bite. They would be able to find her again. They would find her quickly. They would bring her to him for use.
"Excellent." Debello's voice purred. "Bring her to me." The underlings bowed and vanished like smoke. His plan was in motion. And soon more of the Hybrids would awaken. The City would soon rise up in his chaos.
Willa’s intuition was correct. Work had been nearly unbearable. Which is why she left, complaining of sickness. She knew her manager didn’t really buy her story about feeling sick, but something in Willa’s expression or demeanor must have prodded the woman to give in.
Willa popped open her umbrella and began to pick her way toward the nearest train station. The rain hadn’t let up. If anything, the skies felt darker than they had been before. Dark Song creatures would probably be out—even in the middle of the day—with weather like this. That was unsettling.
The train was mostly vacant at this hour. But still, a few people bobbed their heads to their IPods, or thumbed through pages of a book. Usually, Willa would be involved in her music as well—but the news unsettled her. She felt she needed to Listen and keep a wary eye out for any Dark Song creatures. Had that girl she’d met that morning been part of that evil that was spreading? She’d seemed harmless—but Willa had long ago learned that nothing was as it seemed.
Maybe, Willa thought, I will have to keep the silence again. The thought unsettled her further. She gripped the handle of the train so hard that her knuckles popped as flashes of her family’s screams came back to her as if from some terrible nightmare. But it had been real. Very real. The train hissed to a stop and an announcement came over the speakers that the train would be waiting at this station for a schedule adjustment. Antsy, Willa decided to walk from there. She exited at Broadway station, and clutched her umbrella like a weapon as the Songs hit her ears. So many. Light songs bobbed pleasantly from windows, stores, even muffled underground in the trains where she had just left. But also…a very unfamiliar screeching Dark Song.
Willa almost clapped her hands to her ears to block it out. And before she realized what she was doing, Willa found herself in an ally, following the sound of a muffled but familiar Dark Song, as well as two others that weren’t familiar. One was very close. Very strange. A Fetch? She hadn’t come across many of those…or maybe it was a Changeling…equally rare. Willa felt inside her blouse for the hidden pockets there, lined with barrier spells. Could she still do this if she needed to? Her heart pounded in her ears, momentarily blocking out the other Songs. She still couldn’t see the creatures, but she crept low, umbrella down now for stealth. She was soaked through, but didn’t seem to notice.
Willa popped open her umbrella and began to pick her way toward the nearest train station. The rain hadn’t let up. If anything, the skies felt darker than they had been before. Dark Song creatures would probably be out—even in the middle of the day—with weather like this. That was unsettling.
The train was mostly vacant at this hour. But still, a few people bobbed their heads to their IPods, or thumbed through pages of a book. Usually, Willa would be involved in her music as well—but the news unsettled her. She felt she needed to Listen and keep a wary eye out for any Dark Song creatures. Had that girl she’d met that morning been part of that evil that was spreading? She’d seemed harmless—but Willa had long ago learned that nothing was as it seemed.
Maybe, Willa thought, I will have to keep the silence again. The thought unsettled her further. She gripped the handle of the train so hard that her knuckles popped as flashes of her family’s screams came back to her as if from some terrible nightmare. But it had been real. Very real. The train hissed to a stop and an announcement came over the speakers that the train would be waiting at this station for a schedule adjustment. Antsy, Willa decided to walk from there. She exited at Broadway station, and clutched her umbrella like a weapon as the Songs hit her ears. So many. Light songs bobbed pleasantly from windows, stores, even muffled underground in the trains where she had just left. But also…a very unfamiliar screeching Dark Song.
Willa almost clapped her hands to her ears to block it out. And before she realized what she was doing, Willa found herself in an ally, following the sound of a muffled but familiar Dark Song, as well as two others that weren’t familiar. One was very close. Very strange. A Fetch? She hadn’t come across many of those…or maybe it was a Changeling…equally rare. Willa felt inside her blouse for the hidden pockets there, lined with barrier spells. Could she still do this if she needed to? Her heart pounded in her ears, momentarily blocking out the other Songs. She still couldn’t see the creatures, but she crept low, umbrella down now for stealth. She was soaked through, but didn’t seem to notice.
''You have a lot to learn about me then.''
Ethan smirked. “Is that a challenge?” He winked playfully and watched as Sam yanked an old man from this window.
''Now Buddy, want to tell us why you were in the building? And if not, we can always make you talk.'' She bared her fangs threateningly.
“Now now now…” Ethan shook his head. “There’s no need to get feisty sweet heart. I’m sure the man will tell as all we need to know…” Ethan took a step out of the shadow he had been hidden in. The man looked upon with surprise, but Ethan sense his sudden wave of fear. It was then he felt his body stiffen. “There are others here…” He bent over and whispered in Sam’s ear. “I’ll be right back…”
Ethan bunched his leg muscles and leapt upward, his claws digging into the building’s side. He quickly climbed to the top, his tail flicking from side to side, looking for their little follower. He walked silently along the edge of the building, gazing into the alley he was just in. His eyes narrowed, spotting a small figure looking in Sam’s direction. A small smile crept onto his face. He snuck along the edge just a bit more, until he was behind the other being. His hands gripped the building and pushed off with his legs. With a silent whoosh, he landed behind the being. He bent over and tapped her shoulder. “Looking for something?” He snarled, rising to his full height, towering over the being. He quickly noticed this being was a girl, and much smaller than Ethan, especially since he had half-shifted.
When Sam heard Ethan say, '' I'll be right back .'' Sam looked away from the man that was shaking while he was still on the ground. She sighed and looked at Ethan and said, '' Alright, but make it quick .'' She then brought her attention back to the old man and she bent down so she would be at eye level with the man. Sam took a deep breath and said, '' Alright bud, you better start talking now. Why were you in the building? I know it wasn't to get away and drink. I can feel the real reason. So you better make it quick. '' She retracted her fangs and waited for him to start talking. As she waited, she heard Ethan talk to some one, she listened and kept her eyes on the man.
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Willa knew it was a Were-creature. She could never forget the way their Song sounded—Dark, hungry, primal, ever-changing like their forms, an endless growling of sounds. Willa had an especially heavy dislike for Weres after…No, she couldn’t think of that now. She chided herself for being so out of practice. What did she think she was doing, trying to sneak up on a Dark Song creature only half-prepared?
“Looking for something?” the Were snarled, rising to his full height, towering over her. Willa didn’t even flinch. Despite her clear disadvantage in size, she was faster than the Were. It was part of her “gift”. The whistle that hung around her neck was to her thin lips before most other humans would have blinked. Willa blew hard into the whistle—a special sort of “Were-Whistle” given to her as a gift from her teacher. Willa was convinced it was only a dog-whistle, but it had served its purpose more times than she could count. Not even a Listeners ears could hear the sound the whistle made--but it always proved very unpleasant for a Were’s sharp ears.
Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!
Unsure if the whistle would be distracting enough, Willa reached into her soaked blouse, withdrawing a small purple vile which she smashed to the ground, singing softly to awaken the fog barrier. The smell stung Willa’s nose as she turned and fled. Hating herself for being so foolish with every splash of puddles underfoot.
“Looking for something?” the Were snarled, rising to his full height, towering over her. Willa didn’t even flinch. Despite her clear disadvantage in size, she was faster than the Were. It was part of her “gift”. The whistle that hung around her neck was to her thin lips before most other humans would have blinked. Willa blew hard into the whistle—a special sort of “Were-Whistle” given to her as a gift from her teacher. Willa was convinced it was only a dog-whistle, but it had served its purpose more times than she could count. Not even a Listeners ears could hear the sound the whistle made--but it always proved very unpleasant for a Were’s sharp ears.
Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!
Unsure if the whistle would be distracting enough, Willa reached into her soaked blouse, withdrawing a small purple vile which she smashed to the ground, singing softly to awaken the fog barrier. The smell stung Willa’s nose as she turned and fled. Hating herself for being so foolish with every splash of puddles underfoot.
Ethan glared down at the girl. But he really wasn’t going to hurt her, obviously. He was trying rather hard not to laugh and kept a straight face. She didn’t seem extremely fazed as she looked upon the freaking man beast that stood before her. She quickly reached for something around her neck and pressed it to her lips.
Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!
The sound was horrid. Ethan let out a painful hiss as he slapped his paws over his ears in an attempt to block out the high pitched sound. Before Ethan could even recuperate, the girl pulled something from her blouse and tossed it to the floor, causing it to shatter. Suddenly, Ethan found himself surrounded by a purple shroud. Ethan clamped his jaws shut and covered his nose while stumbling out of the cloud of terrible smelling… stuff. His eyes were watering from the stench, and he wanted to vomit that was how strong it was. Ethan scrambled back to his feet and shook his head, trying to clear his nose of the stench.
Ethan’s nose twitched as he picked up the scent trail of the girl. “W-wait! I wasn’t going to- Argh!” Ethan growled at himself, annoyed that he had scared the girl off. “Hey Sam! I’ll be right back! Again!” He yelled over his shoulder as he darted in the direction of the fleeing girl. He shifted back, mid-run, hoping he would seem less threatening. “Come back! I just want to talk!” He called as he ran.
Damn this girl is fast…
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Willa couldn't remember the last time she had used her full speed like this--years? The world around her was a blur. Speeding cars seemed to stand still as she dodged through traffic, and flung herself around corners. Had she outrun him?
“W-wait! I wasn’t going to- Argh!” Willa heard him yell after her. Willa scowled. Yeah right. Weres don't talk. She heard him yell over his shoulder to someone--probably the other Dark Song creatures-- before he began to attempt to follow her. “Come back! I just want to talk!” He called as he ran. Willa knew at her pace, he most definitely wouldn't be able to catch her. Not to mention that she'd had a head start--but he was doing a fair job of trying to catch up. She would give him that.
Willa lunged at a lowered fire escape as she turned another corner, scaling the side of the building as quickly as she dared while the railings were slick with rain. Her heart pounded in her ears, making it difficult for her to pinpoint the Were's Song. Finding herself on the rooftop, Willa took a moment to catch her breath and peek at the Were's progress. He was a ways back. But it seemed he was still able to track her scent..damn. Even with the fog--he could still smell her? Willa patted down her soaking wet clothes, searching futilely for her silver dagger. She had left it at home. Her gun too. Damn.
Willa's mind raced. She couldn't keep running like this--it burned her out. Not to mention she didn't want to lead the Were straight to her apartment. And she had no weapons, aside from a few more vials. She couldn't even recall what kinds they were. How could she have been so foolish? What had she been thinking wandering after those Dark Songs like a novice? Panting, and now shivering beneath her very damp clothes Willa perched on the rooftop, another vial in hand. If he wanted to talk--let him talk. But if it were more--she wouldn't go down without a fight.
“W-wait! I wasn’t going to- Argh!” Willa heard him yell after her. Willa scowled. Yeah right. Weres don't talk. She heard him yell over his shoulder to someone--probably the other Dark Song creatures-- before he began to attempt to follow her. “Come back! I just want to talk!” He called as he ran. Willa knew at her pace, he most definitely wouldn't be able to catch her. Not to mention that she'd had a head start--but he was doing a fair job of trying to catch up. She would give him that.
Willa lunged at a lowered fire escape as she turned another corner, scaling the side of the building as quickly as she dared while the railings were slick with rain. Her heart pounded in her ears, making it difficult for her to pinpoint the Were's Song. Finding herself on the rooftop, Willa took a moment to catch her breath and peek at the Were's progress. He was a ways back. But it seemed he was still able to track her scent..damn. Even with the fog--he could still smell her? Willa patted down her soaking wet clothes, searching futilely for her silver dagger. She had left it at home. Her gun too. Damn.
Willa's mind raced. She couldn't keep running like this--it burned her out. Not to mention she didn't want to lead the Were straight to her apartment. And she had no weapons, aside from a few more vials. She couldn't even recall what kinds they were. How could she have been so foolish? What had she been thinking wandering after those Dark Songs like a novice? Panting, and now shivering beneath her very damp clothes Willa perched on the rooftop, another vial in hand. If he wanted to talk--let him talk. But if it were more--she wouldn't go down without a fight.
Ethan sprinted for all he was worth. His feet thudded the pavement, making sure he kept focus. He didn’t want to lose the scent. But he seriously doubted he would. She made a stupid move, using the stink bomb type thing. It caught on her clothes and trialed along with her, masking her true scent but creating a much stronger one that was much easier to track.
In truth, Ethan hadn’t meant to scare her so much that she fled. Just enough to frighten her slightly, then Ethan would have broken down laughing.
Ethan had to admit, she was a quick little devil. He wondered what she was, most defiantly not human though. That was obvious. Witch? No… Not a Vampire… Not a Were… Ethan thought to himself quietly as he kept running, his breathing coming out in tired huffs.
After about half a minute if running as fast as Werely possible, he came to screeching halt below a building. He gazed up, looking for the girl.
“I’m sorry I… Scared yo-“ Ethan coughed hitting his fit against his chest. “Damn. How do you deal with this?” He yelled up the building, still looking for her. “But seriously. I’m not going to hurt you. Why can’t we just talk?” He asked, still panting.
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“I’m sorry I… Scared yo-“ the Were coughed hitting his fist against his chest. “Damn. How do you deal with this?” He yelled up the building, still looking for her. “But seriously. I’m not going to hurt you. Why can’t we just talk?” He asked, still panting.
Scared? Willa felt her spine stiffen defensively. She wasn't scared. Cautious. Yes. Scared? Definitely, not. She made a small clicking sound with her tongue against her teeth. A sound of derision.
"I don't fear Weres. I just don't like them." Willa called down, voice carrying surprisingly well through the rain. (Though it was letting up) Her voice seemed bitter and young all at once. A strange combination, even in her ears. "Or trust them."
Willa kept a firm grip on her vile. What was this one? She squinted at it through the grey light. Another barrier? Probably. It would do in a pinch.
"What would a Were have to say, anyway?" Willa taunted, still attempting to remain concealed. Her voice bounced off the buildings, splattering from the puddles. "Woof, woof, Meow?" She gave a small unhappy chuckle at her own joke. "Your kind is as stupid as animal as the forms they take..." She knew it was risky, taunting the Were like this without anything more than a vile. But it were as if she were someone else. Someone foolish. Someone reckless. Someone...scared...
Willa chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe she was scared after all. She didn't like it. She crouched low, defensively, trying to keep in the shadows, and squish herself into the puddles collecting on the roof to dampen her scent further.
Scared? Willa felt her spine stiffen defensively. She wasn't scared. Cautious. Yes. Scared? Definitely, not. She made a small clicking sound with her tongue against her teeth. A sound of derision.
"I don't fear Weres. I just don't like them." Willa called down, voice carrying surprisingly well through the rain. (Though it was letting up) Her voice seemed bitter and young all at once. A strange combination, even in her ears. "Or trust them."
Willa kept a firm grip on her vile. What was this one? She squinted at it through the grey light. Another barrier? Probably. It would do in a pinch.
"What would a Were have to say, anyway?" Willa taunted, still attempting to remain concealed. Her voice bounced off the buildings, splattering from the puddles. "Woof, woof, Meow?" She gave a small unhappy chuckle at her own joke. "Your kind is as stupid as animal as the forms they take..." She knew it was risky, taunting the Were like this without anything more than a vile. But it were as if she were someone else. Someone foolish. Someone reckless. Someone...scared...
Willa chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe she was scared after all. She didn't like it. She crouched low, defensively, trying to keep in the shadows, and squish herself into the puddles collecting on the roof to dampen her scent further.
So you're a ghoul, a warlock, a hunter of the night?
I'm a cop.
The Darkling pounded up six flights of stairs with his loaded Sig Sauer gleaming in his hands. To be honest, he didn't know why he suddenly chased after the two youths on the walk home after finishing the crime scene walkover and returning the (his) police badge and crime scene notes to his Fetch. All he saw a girl cradling a woman pressing a blood soaked hand to her neck and the EMT's taking both of them to the hospital. And the man she was with ducked into an alleyway and turned into a werewolf. If there was any doubt to the supernatural raising its dirty head in this case, this was the final nail in the coffin. Stiff with holes in his neck. Girl holding another girl with holes in her neck. Wolfmen leaping up buildings. Things were getting complicated fast and Nicholas did not like this at all.
He was by no means an Antiquarian; he had no encyclopedic knowledge of the occult floating about in his noggin. Straight up fighting other supernatural denizens of the world wasn't his strong suit. Nicholas didn't know if the whole wooden stake thing was some Hollywood contrivance or if wolves hated silver the way the Fae hated cold iron. Hell, he had little to no clue what he was dealing with. Still, he ground to a stop at the landing at the third floor and slunk into a quiet-step to where he thought he had seen the pair climb up the side of the building. All he had was a wrenching feeling in his gut and a bad taste in his mouth. That damnable intuition of his sending a crick in his jaw and thud-thud in his chest.
The abandoned apartments were mostly former squatter quarters. For some reason, it seemed as if the building had been recently abandoned. A dull beige and vomit green colored the empty hallways. Doors stood half open to reveal rooms with sunlight weakly crawling through the barred windows. The smell of stale air trailed through the entire floor. Down a long shady corridor, two figures three figures stood by an open window. Nicholas sank to a crouch and silently reached out to the shadows through the ancient contracts of the Wyrd.
So, Shade, would you kindly hide me from the ghoul and the wolfie here? Seems like they're making a ruckus early in the mornin' an' troddin' on you with no respect so I've come to sort the troublemakers out. A velvet voice from the darkness, like a woman freshly roused from deep slumber, drifted around Nicholas and him alone Hide you from a Bloodless One and a Skinshifter, Nicky? A hard task; they sleep in my shade too. But the Fae pact stands. Be now light-shy, Changeling. And rustle the other children for me, please? A brief rush of Wyrdness surged through Nicholas as he felt the shadows exact their toll of magical Glamour from his soul. His ankles sank into shade and then his waist until only his white eyes and the top of his head peeked out from the shade-patch he had subsumed himself in. He soundlessly crept along the length of the shadow and stopped at the shadowedge, a few feet shy of the currently turned away girl and wolf duo.
He took a moment to eavesdrop on them while he flicked the safety on the Sauer currently prodding its barrel up through the shade.
''...nt to tell us why you were in the building? And if not, we can always make you talk," said the girl to an old man lying on the floor. Unfortunately, his shadow wasn't touching the shadow where Nicholas hid, so any chance of surprising the two that way was nixed.
“Now now now…There’s no need to get feisty sweet heart," said the boy. "I’m sure the man will tell as all we need to know…” Then he whispered something that he couldn't quite catch before leaping through the nearby window. The girl turned back to the old man with a vicious look.
"Alright bud, you better start talking now. Why were you in the building? I know it wasn't to get away and drink. I can feel the real reason. So you better make it quick."
Despite the first urge to knock her to the ground while he had the element of surprise, Nicholas kept himself submerged in the shadows just a bit longer to see what angle these two were playing at. Still, he kept his pistol at the ready. Vamp or Wolf, nothing liked getting shot.
I'm a cop.
The Darkling pounded up six flights of stairs with his loaded Sig Sauer gleaming in his hands. To be honest, he didn't know why he suddenly chased after the two youths on the walk home after finishing the crime scene walkover and returning the (his) police badge and crime scene notes to his Fetch. All he saw a girl cradling a woman pressing a blood soaked hand to her neck and the EMT's taking both of them to the hospital. And the man she was with ducked into an alleyway and turned into a werewolf. If there was any doubt to the supernatural raising its dirty head in this case, this was the final nail in the coffin. Stiff with holes in his neck. Girl holding another girl with holes in her neck. Wolfmen leaping up buildings. Things were getting complicated fast and Nicholas did not like this at all.
He was by no means an Antiquarian; he had no encyclopedic knowledge of the occult floating about in his noggin. Straight up fighting other supernatural denizens of the world wasn't his strong suit. Nicholas didn't know if the whole wooden stake thing was some Hollywood contrivance or if wolves hated silver the way the Fae hated cold iron. Hell, he had little to no clue what he was dealing with. Still, he ground to a stop at the landing at the third floor and slunk into a quiet-step to where he thought he had seen the pair climb up the side of the building. All he had was a wrenching feeling in his gut and a bad taste in his mouth. That damnable intuition of his sending a crick in his jaw and thud-thud in his chest.
The abandoned apartments were mostly former squatter quarters. For some reason, it seemed as if the building had been recently abandoned. A dull beige and vomit green colored the empty hallways. Doors stood half open to reveal rooms with sunlight weakly crawling through the barred windows. The smell of stale air trailed through the entire floor. Down a long shady corridor, two figures three figures stood by an open window. Nicholas sank to a crouch and silently reached out to the shadows through the ancient contracts of the Wyrd.
So, Shade, would you kindly hide me from the ghoul and the wolfie here? Seems like they're making a ruckus early in the mornin' an' troddin' on you with no respect so I've come to sort the troublemakers out. A velvet voice from the darkness, like a woman freshly roused from deep slumber, drifted around Nicholas and him alone Hide you from a Bloodless One and a Skinshifter, Nicky? A hard task; they sleep in my shade too. But the Fae pact stands. Be now light-shy, Changeling. And rustle the other children for me, please? A brief rush of Wyrdness surged through Nicholas as he felt the shadows exact their toll of magical Glamour from his soul. His ankles sank into shade and then his waist until only his white eyes and the top of his head peeked out from the shade-patch he had subsumed himself in. He soundlessly crept along the length of the shadow and stopped at the shadowedge, a few feet shy of the currently turned away girl and wolf duo.
He took a moment to eavesdrop on them while he flicked the safety on the Sauer currently prodding its barrel up through the shade.
''...nt to tell us why you were in the building? And if not, we can always make you talk," said the girl to an old man lying on the floor. Unfortunately, his shadow wasn't touching the shadow where Nicholas hid, so any chance of surprising the two that way was nixed.
“Now now now…There’s no need to get feisty sweet heart," said the boy. "I’m sure the man will tell as all we need to know…” Then he whispered something that he couldn't quite catch before leaping through the nearby window. The girl turned back to the old man with a vicious look.
"Alright bud, you better start talking now. Why were you in the building? I know it wasn't to get away and drink. I can feel the real reason. So you better make it quick."
Despite the first urge to knock her to the ground while he had the element of surprise, Nicholas kept himself submerged in the shadows just a bit longer to see what angle these two were playing at. Still, he kept his pistol at the ready. Vamp or Wolf, nothing liked getting shot.
Sam took a deep breath when she was looking at the man. She then sighed and said, '' I could honestly not give a care about why you were in the window. I just better not see you ever again. Got that? Sam said that as she looked at him for one more second and then she turned around, Sam saw the sunlight starting to come out of the rain clouds. She took a quick breath and put her hood up, and she put her hands in her pockets. She then ran away from the alley, and went to go find Ethan.
After only about a minute with her Dhampir speed, she reached Ethan pretty quick. She stood next to him and said, '' Ethan, I need to get out of the sun, before I start to get a burn. Any ideas? She said that as she smelt a familiar scent.
She looked at Ethan and said, '' Who are you following? I recognize that scent.'' She said that as she tried to figure where that scent was coming from.
After only about a minute with her Dhampir speed, she reached Ethan pretty quick. She stood next to him and said, '' Ethan, I need to get out of the sun, before I start to get a burn. Any ideas? She said that as she smelt a familiar scent.
She looked at Ethan and said, '' Who are you following? I recognize that scent.'' She said that as she tried to figure where that scent was coming from.
"I don't fear Weres. I just don't like them. Or trust them."
“Well… I can totally tell by how you ran away from me in terror that you have a strong dislike for me.” Ethan huffed, his chest still heaving up and down with effort.
"What would a Were have to say, anyway?" She tried to keep her location a secret, but the rain had been letting up, so he could pinpoint where she was. "Woof, woof, Meow?" She chuckled lightly, and Ethan scowled. "Your kind is as stupid as animal as the forms they take..."
Ethan felt his eye twitch.
I swear to God when I get my hands on yo-
No! Feral thoughts bad! Bad bad bad!
But…
BAD. Ethan had a small, silent conversation in his head. He wasn’t about to prove to her that what she just said was true.
“Yes, you can call me stupid, but I’m not the one who tried sneaking up on a Were-Tiger and a girl who’s part Vampire.” Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Oh, and there is no reason to get yourself all wet, sweetheart.” Ethan could hear her pressing into some puddles. “That nasty little stink potion that you used is now all over you, which means that you made it like six times easier to track you.” Ethan shook his head, chuckling.
“And why can’t we just talk? I mean, considering the fact that you were stalking my friend and I, threw a stink bomb at me, and I’m still willing to talk. Look, I’ve shifted back, I’m not going to hurt you or anything.” Ethan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Who are you following? I recognize that scent." Ethan looked over at Sam.
“I don’t know who this is, but all I know is that she was watching us.” He hissed quietly, out of earshot from the other girl.
The Were was silent for such a long time that Willa began to strain her ears for any sound of someone climbing the fire escape. Instead, she heard that familiar Dark Song again approaching beside the hungry-sounding Were song. Shit. She was starting to really dislike herself today. From below she heard him speak again--he sounded clearly annoyed.
"Yes, you can call me stupid, but I’m not the one who tried sneaking up on a Were-Tiger and a girl who’s part Vampire.” He had her there. That really WAS stupid of her. “Oh, and there is no reason to get yourself all wet, sweetheart.” Willa froze, heart racing. She was already soaked anyway. “That nasty little stink potion that you used is now all over you, which means that you made it like six times easier to track you.” She heard him chuckling at her from below as she trembled in outrage. She had made that fog potion too strong and used it in too close of a range..stupid! Stupid! Such an amateur mistake. Her trainer, Willow, would have beat her silly for making a mistake like that. Willa's mind raced as she tried to work out what she could do. No weapons. (Other than her speed, her whistle, and this one uncertain vial.) No obvious escape route.
“And why can’t we just talk? I mean, considering the fact that you were stalking my friend and I, threw a stink bomb at me, and I’m still willing to talk. Look, I’ve shifted back, I’m not going to hurt you or anything.” the Were called up to her again. Why had she followed their Songs rather than head home, as she always would? Why had she done that? Willa bit her bottom lip to repress the whimpering sound she knew she would make otherwise. It seemed she had no other options...she was cornered. Willa slunk out of the shadows, soaked through from the earlier heavier rain. Her dark hair was plastered to her neck. She slowly moved halfway down the fire escape, but was wary enough still not to proceed further. Her right hand clutched the whistle around her neck ,and her left hand held the vial. Below, she spotted a young woman. The other Dark song. Wait...that had been the one from the train that morning! Willa's eyes shone with recognition as she spotted the girl--but aside from that her face remained solemn. Inwardly, she was panicking like a bird trapped in a cadge.
"It...it wasn't supposed to be a stink bomb..." Willa managed to say softly, bitterness creeping into her words again. She looked to the Were, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.
"Yes, you can call me stupid, but I’m not the one who tried sneaking up on a Were-Tiger and a girl who’s part Vampire.” He had her there. That really WAS stupid of her. “Oh, and there is no reason to get yourself all wet, sweetheart.” Willa froze, heart racing. She was already soaked anyway. “That nasty little stink potion that you used is now all over you, which means that you made it like six times easier to track you.” She heard him chuckling at her from below as she trembled in outrage. She had made that fog potion too strong and used it in too close of a range..stupid! Stupid! Such an amateur mistake. Her trainer, Willow, would have beat her silly for making a mistake like that. Willa's mind raced as she tried to work out what she could do. No weapons. (Other than her speed, her whistle, and this one uncertain vial.) No obvious escape route.
“And why can’t we just talk? I mean, considering the fact that you were stalking my friend and I, threw a stink bomb at me, and I’m still willing to talk. Look, I’ve shifted back, I’m not going to hurt you or anything.” the Were called up to her again. Why had she followed their Songs rather than head home, as she always would? Why had she done that? Willa bit her bottom lip to repress the whimpering sound she knew she would make otherwise. It seemed she had no other options...she was cornered. Willa slunk out of the shadows, soaked through from the earlier heavier rain. Her dark hair was plastered to her neck. She slowly moved halfway down the fire escape, but was wary enough still not to proceed further. Her right hand clutched the whistle around her neck ,and her left hand held the vial. Below, she spotted a young woman. The other Dark song. Wait...that had been the one from the train that morning! Willa's eyes shone with recognition as she spotted the girl--but aside from that her face remained solemn. Inwardly, she was panicking like a bird trapped in a cadge.
"It...it wasn't supposed to be a stink bomb..." Willa managed to say softly, bitterness creeping into her words again. She looked to the Were, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.
Ethan watched, with a bit of amusement, as the girl slowly clambered down the fire escape. Ethan smirked slightly. He had won this one. A look of curiosity crossed his face as he saw the girl look at Sam, like she recognized her.
"It...it wasn't supposed to be a stink bomb..." Ethan’s head cocked to the side.
“Well that’s what it seemed like. It sure cleaned out my sinuses.” He flashed a pearly-white smile. His arms remained crossed across his chest. Ethan finally got a good look at this girl. The first thing he had noticed was she was soaking wet. Practically dripping. Her brown hair clung to her skin.
“Look at you. Now you’re all wet. Was that really necessary?” His tone was a tad mocking.
“Ok. All foolishness aside now. Well… most. Why were you watching us? And what are you? I’m not trying to be rude, but how could you tell we weren’t human? And how are you so fast? Even I can’t run the fast!” Ethan said everything all at once, not giving her time to talk. He then looked at her with interest, wondering how she would answer.
“Well that’s what it seemed like. It sure cleaned out my sinuses.” He flashed a pearly-white smile. His arms remained crossed across his chest. Willa's face did not reflect that she found any humor in this particular joke. She was still annoyed with herself for her failure. Despite what must have been the Were's attempt at a winning smile, Willa continued to look wary. “Look at you. Now you’re all wet. Was that really necessary?” His tone was a tad mocking. Willa didn't need him to point this out. She was shivering now that her adrenaline had ebbed. She wanted a hot shower and a nap. The girl, shifted her weight on her hip, looking more pitiful than she would have liked. Hating herself and this Were more and more by the second.
“Ok. All foolishness aside now. Well… most. Why were you watching us? And what are you? I’m not trying to be rude, but how could you tell we weren’t human? And how are you so fast? Even I can’t run the fast!” the creature said everything all at once, not giving her time to talk. He then looked at her with interest.
Willa chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyes staring hard at the Dark Song creatures below. How much should she really tell them? She wasn't surprised the Were didn't know what she was. Her kind was rare these days. She wondered if he even knew his kin had killed her whole family to put an end to her hunting days? Willa stared in silence for a moment as she mulled as this over before deciding a little information wouldn't make things any worse.
"I'm not surprised that you don't recognize what I am...we are few and far between." Willa told him, voice soft. "I can hear what you are. Both of you. All of you. Much like you Weres and Vampires and Dhampirs can smell things differently...I can hear things differently...I'm a Listener." Willa wanted to threaten them again, but refrained from saying that she was under duty to maintain the Silence. "You creatures sound different than human beings do..." Willa explained patiently, watching the Were for any signs of recognition once she admitted to what she was. She felt no need to explain that being what she was made her designed to be faster. She was not stronger. So naturally, her kind needed some type of advantage. Willa crept down closer, carefully watching the two below for an opening to escape.
"As to why I was following you..." Why had she? Just the fear of what was starting to lurk? The thought that if she took out a few then she would somehow be putting a stop to the plans that were clearly in motion? Was she really so naive? " I'm not really sure myself...something bad is happening...something really bad." Willa managed, looking even more pale than before. "Just...looking for answers...I guess..." She admitted. She looked almost faint at this point. The panic of what was happening in Boston rising up on her again. The desperation. Willa licked her lips nervously. "H-Have you ever heard of the Bloodless Murders?"
“Ok. All foolishness aside now. Well… most. Why were you watching us? And what are you? I’m not trying to be rude, but how could you tell we weren’t human? And how are you so fast? Even I can’t run the fast!” the creature said everything all at once, not giving her time to talk. He then looked at her with interest.
Willa chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyes staring hard at the Dark Song creatures below. How much should she really tell them? She wasn't surprised the Were didn't know what she was. Her kind was rare these days. She wondered if he even knew his kin had killed her whole family to put an end to her hunting days? Willa stared in silence for a moment as she mulled as this over before deciding a little information wouldn't make things any worse.
"I'm not surprised that you don't recognize what I am...we are few and far between." Willa told him, voice soft. "I can hear what you are. Both of you. All of you. Much like you Weres and Vampires and Dhampirs can smell things differently...I can hear things differently...I'm a Listener." Willa wanted to threaten them again, but refrained from saying that she was under duty to maintain the Silence. "You creatures sound different than human beings do..." Willa explained patiently, watching the Were for any signs of recognition once she admitted to what she was. She felt no need to explain that being what she was made her designed to be faster. She was not stronger. So naturally, her kind needed some type of advantage. Willa crept down closer, carefully watching the two below for an opening to escape.
"As to why I was following you..." Why had she? Just the fear of what was starting to lurk? The thought that if she took out a few then she would somehow be putting a stop to the plans that were clearly in motion? Was she really so naive? " I'm not really sure myself...something bad is happening...something really bad." Willa managed, looking even more pale than before. "Just...looking for answers...I guess..." She admitted. She looked almost faint at this point. The panic of what was happening in Boston rising up on her again. The desperation. Willa licked her lips nervously. "H-Have you ever heard of the Bloodless Murders?"
Sam looked at the girl and Sam could feel that she remembered her, but was trying to act like she didn't. But even lying couldn't foul Sam, since she can feel your every emotion, whether she wants to or not.
Sam then looked at Ethan and smiled, when he made it sound like her and him were friends. They just met and didn't know anything about each other, besides that they knew the other wasn't human, but besides that, they were strangers. Sam then smelt the air again and looked up, to see the girl standing on the roof. Sam looked at Ethan and back at the girl, then back at Ethan and back at the girl, she would look at one when that one would start to talk.
Sam then decided to speak up, she looked at the girl and said, '' Um....sorry about back at the station. I realize how weird that must have sounded. I didn't mean to scare you off, I was just trying to be nice. I really am sorry, I really would like to know who you are, and not just think of you as ' that woman from the train station.' That's a little weird.'' Sam said with a smile. But when the girl mentioned the 'Bloodless Murders' Sam took a step back and swallowed hard. Sam looked at her and said, '' Yes. And trust me, I don't have anything to do with them. I don't drink blood, like at all. And I do want to figure out why they keep happening. Sam then walked over to the girl and said, '' My name is Sam Larson, but my friends call me Sammy, even though I'm too old to be called that anymore. And you are?'' Sam said as she had her hand extended for a hopeful hand shake. Sam could feel the emotions coming off of the girl, they were so over powering for Sam to not notice.
Sam then looked at Ethan and smiled, when he made it sound like her and him were friends. They just met and didn't know anything about each other, besides that they knew the other wasn't human, but besides that, they were strangers. Sam then smelt the air again and looked up, to see the girl standing on the roof. Sam looked at Ethan and back at the girl, then back at Ethan and back at the girl, she would look at one when that one would start to talk.
Sam then decided to speak up, she looked at the girl and said, '' Um....sorry about back at the station. I realize how weird that must have sounded. I didn't mean to scare you off, I was just trying to be nice. I really am sorry, I really would like to know who you are, and not just think of you as ' that woman from the train station.' That's a little weird.'' Sam said with a smile. But when the girl mentioned the 'Bloodless Murders' Sam took a step back and swallowed hard. Sam looked at her and said, '' Yes. And trust me, I don't have anything to do with them. I don't drink blood, like at all. And I do want to figure out why they keep happening. Sam then walked over to the girl and said, '' My name is Sam Larson, but my friends call me Sammy, even though I'm too old to be called that anymore. And you are?'' Sam said as she had her hand extended for a hopeful hand shake. Sam could feel the emotions coming off of the girl, they were so over powering for Sam to not notice.
Sun, sun, please go away.
Can't you leave us ghouls to play?
The Darkling pulled himself out of the shadows when he saw the girl with fangs reach for the window. He lunged forward just as the she leaped down into the streets. In a burst of desperation, Nicholas dashed for the window sill leaned out into the alleyway. The girl sprinted down the alleyway and around the corner at an impossible speed. With three flights of stairs between him and the front door, there was absolutely no way for him to catch up to her. The frame of the window sill jostled as Nicholas struck the wood a clenched fist. Well, goddamnit. The sharp stinging of a splinter in his hand reminded him not to lose his temper. A far off shuffle of rags and broken bottles caught the Changeling's attention. The old man in rags had slipped away, dropping down through a hole scratched out in the rotted flooring into the depths of the building. There would be no catching him either. And the sun's comin' out. Perfect.
Nicholas ducked back into the abandoned apartment building and headed for the first floor before kicking open the back door and onto the streets. With the sun meekly peeking from behind the rainy clouds the shallow streetside shadows offered him no paths to tread. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a simple grey lighter and a pack of Marbolos. A pack with just one light left, half drenched from the rain. With a clink and shink of metal, he raised the cigarette to his lips and lit the tip. The taste of ash put the darkling at ease. The empty case fell to the ground and Nicholas crushed it underfoot. Out came his personal notepad with a pen nestled in the notepad spiral. His lead may have eluded him for now but Nicholas knew a few places to poke around for clues now that he suspected some sort of vampire/werewolf cooperation, a few haunts for the supernatural that masqueraded as bars and clubs.
Something caught Nicholas's eye. A thin slip of of plastic with the name "Sam Larson" and a familiar face. He wondered if the Wyrd was playing him. That makes things a lot easier.
Can't you leave us ghouls to play?
The Darkling pulled himself out of the shadows when he saw the girl with fangs reach for the window. He lunged forward just as the she leaped down into the streets. In a burst of desperation, Nicholas dashed for the window sill leaned out into the alleyway. The girl sprinted down the alleyway and around the corner at an impossible speed. With three flights of stairs between him and the front door, there was absolutely no way for him to catch up to her. The frame of the window sill jostled as Nicholas struck the wood a clenched fist. Well, goddamnit. The sharp stinging of a splinter in his hand reminded him not to lose his temper. A far off shuffle of rags and broken bottles caught the Changeling's attention. The old man in rags had slipped away, dropping down through a hole scratched out in the rotted flooring into the depths of the building. There would be no catching him either. And the sun's comin' out. Perfect.
Nicholas ducked back into the abandoned apartment building and headed for the first floor before kicking open the back door and onto the streets. With the sun meekly peeking from behind the rainy clouds the shallow streetside shadows offered him no paths to tread. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a simple grey lighter and a pack of Marbolos. A pack with just one light left, half drenched from the rain. With a clink and shink of metal, he raised the cigarette to his lips and lit the tip. The taste of ash put the darkling at ease. The empty case fell to the ground and Nicholas crushed it underfoot. Out came his personal notepad with a pen nestled in the notepad spiral. His lead may have eluded him for now but Nicholas knew a few places to poke around for clues now that he suspected some sort of vampire/werewolf cooperation, a few haunts for the supernatural that masqueraded as bars and clubs.
Something caught Nicholas's eye. A thin slip of of plastic with the name "Sam Larson" and a familiar face. He wondered if the Wyrd was playing him. That makes things a lot easier.
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Dhampire. That was what the girl was. The name had escaped Willa on the train earlier. But now it came tumbling back as the girl spoke. Willa's sharp eyes focused on the girl now, seeing through her really.
Im....sorry about back at the station. I realize how weird that must have sounded. I didn't mean to scare you off, I was just trying to be nice. I really am sorry, I really would like to know who you are, and not just think of you as ' that woman from the train station.' That's a little weird.'' Sam said with a smile. Willa continued to stare somewhat blankly at the Dhampire. Dhampires are more human than vampire, really. That explained the Dark Song and the mild demeanor. She seemed young to Willa. But still, Willa had no intention of being friendly with someone who could befriend a Were. Willa brushed a strand of sopping wet hair behind her flat-tipped ear. The Dhampire looked nervous when Willa mentioned the murders. She took a step back and swallowed hard. '' Yes. And trust me, I don't have anything to do with them. I don't drink blood, like at all. And I do want to figure out why they keep happening. The Dhampire then walked over toward her and said, '' My name is Sam Larson, but my friends call me Sammy, even though I'm too old to be called that anymore. And you are?''
That was the opening she needed. Willa smirked, reaching out a hand of her own as if to shake Sammy's outstretched hand,
"I'm Leaving..." Willa answered cheekily, tossing the vile at the girl's feet.
The vile shattered, and Willa sang softly to awaken the vile. But it wasn't a fog vile after all. It was a barrier. Immediately, a fierce light blinded Willa and the sound of a barrier hummed in her sensitive ears. Barriers often sounded to Listeners like loved ones, and this was no different. Her brother...
Willa flinched, looking visibly confused and torn before managing to mask her emotions again. She knew she should run now. But her little brother's Song thrummed loudly in her ears. As if he were...alive again...Willa gaped stupidly at the barrier. Why his? Why now?
Seeming to snap out of her daze, Willa turned to run. Hoping that she still had time left to confuse her scent and make it home without being tailed.
Im....sorry about back at the station. I realize how weird that must have sounded. I didn't mean to scare you off, I was just trying to be nice. I really am sorry, I really would like to know who you are, and not just think of you as ' that woman from the train station.' That's a little weird.'' Sam said with a smile. Willa continued to stare somewhat blankly at the Dhampire. Dhampires are more human than vampire, really. That explained the Dark Song and the mild demeanor. She seemed young to Willa. But still, Willa had no intention of being friendly with someone who could befriend a Were. Willa brushed a strand of sopping wet hair behind her flat-tipped ear. The Dhampire looked nervous when Willa mentioned the murders. She took a step back and swallowed hard. '' Yes. And trust me, I don't have anything to do with them. I don't drink blood, like at all. And I do want to figure out why they keep happening. The Dhampire then walked over toward her and said, '' My name is Sam Larson, but my friends call me Sammy, even though I'm too old to be called that anymore. And you are?''
That was the opening she needed. Willa smirked, reaching out a hand of her own as if to shake Sammy's outstretched hand,
"I'm Leaving..." Willa answered cheekily, tossing the vile at the girl's feet.
The vile shattered, and Willa sang softly to awaken the vile. But it wasn't a fog vile after all. It was a barrier. Immediately, a fierce light blinded Willa and the sound of a barrier hummed in her sensitive ears. Barriers often sounded to Listeners like loved ones, and this was no different. Her brother...
Willa flinched, looking visibly confused and torn before managing to mask her emotions again. She knew she should run now. But her little brother's Song thrummed loudly in her ears. As if he were...alive again...Willa gaped stupidly at the barrier. Why his? Why now?
Seeming to snap out of her daze, Willa turned to run. Hoping that she still had time left to confuse her scent and make it home without being tailed.
“I'm not surprised that you don't recognize what I am...we are few and far between." Ethan tilted his head to the side to show his interest. "I can hear what you are. Both of you. All of you. Much like you Weres and Vampires and Dhampirs can smell things differently...I can hear things differently...I'm a Listener." Ethan had a sudden light bulb moment.
“I’ve heard that name before! I can’t remember who mentioned it… Oh ya! It was my…” Ethan stopped, remembering when his mother taught him about all of the other ‘special’ creatures like him. He glanced up at the girl, still curious about these Listeners.
"You creatures sound different than human beings do..." Ethan nodded, almost as if he understood. But in all honestly, he still had no idea what she walk talking about. "As to why I was following you..." Ethan’s gaze hardened, wondering if this girl would just come up with a stupid excuse, or tell the truth. "I'm not really sure myself...something bad is happening...something really bad. Just...looking for answers...I guess..." Her skin seemed to be losing color by the second. For a moment, Ethan thought she was going to pass out. "H-Have you ever heard of the Bloodless Murders?"
Ethan’s head jerked up. He had heard something about these murders… Oh God, she didn’t think it was them doing the killings… Right? Ethan was so consumed in thought that he completely missed Sam and the girl’s exchanging of words. All he caught was “And you are?” Ethan was quickly snapped from his deep thoughts and listened. He wanted to hear what this girl had to say. His eyes caught sight something peculiar in her hands…
"I'm Leaving..." Ethan sprang into action as soon as he saw her throw the vile onto the ground. He thrust himself in between Sam and the vile, not knowing what it was going to do. He immediately shielded his eyes with his arm, and his ears were filled with an odd ringing sound. He squinted to see through the blinding light. As his eyes quickly readjusted, he saw her blurry figure turning a corner and darting off. Ethan gritted his teeth.
“I’m not done with you yet sweetheart…” Ethan silently hissed to himself. As quick as lightning, he picked up a few chunks of the broken remains of the vile. They cut into his palm and he winced, but shoved them into his pocket. He then sprinted after the girl, his jaw clenched more in aggravation than bitter anger. Her scent was still a bit more prominent than the others of the city, the stink bomb scent still clung to her clothing.
“Why do you keep running?! I just want to talk!” He shouted up at her, watching as she turned another corner and disappeared from his line of sight. Ethan felt… something swell inside of him. “Just because I’m a Were doesn’t mean I’m going to…!” His voice faltered at the end. His sprinting slowed to a jog, then to a walk, until he stopped all together. “I just… wanted to… talk…” Ethan sighed, looking up to see her vanish again.