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Famine Fever Read 16053 times

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #60 on: March 05, 2014, 08:21:42 pm »
Ellian sought out the hottest things, and rubbed against their driest stretches. His sense of smell helped him with this endeavor. People who dance transfer a certain tinge if they are in the right state of mind, the right level of trance. He did not find anyone particularly close to the noradrenaline output his tribe had been able to reach, running around the lions on days when death was not holy sacrifice, but simply sustaining their animals of worship. Nonetheless, the lion enjoyed every spark his body could drink from the jumping and tossing people.

The plucked shocks and their careless energy soon changed to something more anxious. Fear is heavier than elation, and can't be enjoyed in bursts of light, but rather sucked in through ready senses. Ellian was only indirectly cause to this fright and painful confusion, so he couldn't control its fluctuation, and therefore didn't enjoy it very much. His hunger was growing larger around the digesting skull he'd torn off its perch, but that want to eat was also becoming spoiled by the color-cut memories of having had to give up his spoils to the wretched wolves. It was an alchemy that favored his beastly inclinations.

A particularly open minded, soul-filled male stranger tried to catch his fancy by brushing him behind the ear, tucking the wild mane behind the pointed hairs of the tip of the shell. That ear stiffened in excitement out of reflex before Ellian remembered his own ugly mood. The back of a paw - there was some consideration there, after all - struck the optimistic dancer, and rattled him where he stood without bringing him down. The message had been conveyed, at least, and the lion sauntered on, enjoying the brush of the river of people that were running, their speed dying now, loosing like so many other things to apathy. Most of the bodies in here lived on other bodies, after all. Dogs eating a girl who cleaned shards and a man of much meat wasn't all that worrying.

His eyes locked with "Soul," A volatile bright would meet her, among the calming wave of formerly fleeing people, crashing against the entrance and now ebbing back to rejuvenate the dance floor. Rains returning to the desert. The music had been strangely alert on all these happenings. A good mind on whoever dictated over the tunes in here. "you smell like thief." he continued. There was no particular scent to a rouge's blood that he could discern from others, but the woman clad in lacquered cow hide had been walking the given direction last time he saw her, he could fill in the blanks.

She did not smell of deadened things. Her body had not filled with more since before. Soul had not eaten, she had only killed a person, and not a bat. So, the blood drinker was safe, as well. Everyone at the waterhole except for Lisa should be fine. He could still hear the last song of her spine in the sensory memory of his hand. "Have you come to make a partner out of me, too?" It was as poisonous as a primal thing could be. Felines were cunning while their desires were honest. He could keep a charade if he thought enough vicious things. This one would not be a very long act. "I snubbed myself of a hot meal just now, you see, so I'll offer the Bat's services for the price that that Marcy was willing to pay for my liver." A tongue with the scales of his large animals came out of a carelessly widened mouth to slap and drag over his palm. He swiped the wetness over his jaw and thin, and down his throat, to clean phantom trails of blood. His attention was on her all the while. Then it switched beyond her shoulder.

"There he flies." The bat, maneuvering through the people. "Did you two disagree?" He chuckled at a speedy train of thought. "Blood and essence not comparable currency?"

Ara

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #61 on: March 05, 2014, 09:23:41 pm »
There was almost a kiss. Almost a moment. Almost was becoming a theme tonight. When he spoke in the dark he sounded unhappy, empty. She wondered with a pang of worry if that was what he always sounded like but if the sight of him had hidden that hollow. It was disappointing and it made her heart hurt. She did not understand the angel. She saw things, his interest in Nina for one and his curious desire for vengeance after death. It occurred to her that a better monster would have agreed and given the man what he wanted but it would have been a lie to say that the day she killed Ellian would be for anyone but herself.

Her fingers stilled on his collar, her body still pressed into his though the moment had passed. “Work.” She repeated the flavorless word after him.

Someone knocked on the door and she waited a moment, expecting him to push her aside and answer it, but he waited as well. “Is your list a matter of vengeance, as well?” She asked, curiosity in him much greater than what was at the door. But whomever was there was persistent, knocking again. She smiled in the dark and pushed off of his body, suspecting he wouldn’t answer anyway and this wouldn’t go anywhere either of them liked.

“Are we all on your list, Gabrielle?” Marcy chimed pleasantly on her way through the thick shadows to the door. She turned the knob and leaned her body to the frame, opening it only enough to show herself, enjoying the idea that they might have been doing something private inside. Her smile dampened and she sighed, swinging the door open wide so that the flustered man, likely one of Gabrielle’s staff, could see his master.

“I’ll be downstairs if you finish your work.” She called, though whatever cheer might have accompanied it had faded, perhaps by the suspicion that he would not seek her out for anything but work in the future. She stepped through the doorway and let his man have his ear. She worked up a little smile when she saw Fenton standing in the hallway near the staircase.

She touched his arm when she neared and leaned up on the toes of her heels when he bent his head. His breath moved against her cheek when he spoke. It seemed that both Nina and Russell were making their way downstairs too. She nodded in approval of his knowledge but lingered against his side on her toes, lingered long enough to look up at him. “Would you tell me your real name if I asked?” Marcy whispered out of pure curiosity and maybe a little tenderness.

Fenton stared back at her, surprised it seemed and maybe a tad bothered that she would ask. “I would give you any name you wanted.” He admitted.

She would never know why he followed her or why he loved her. She would never know that when he looked at her he saw something more than a deranged human, something more than a monster in the wake of a child’s nightmare. When he looked at her he saw death, he saw the horrible freedom it could offer, the chaos it brought- and in her arms, he found the mother he had always imagined with all the purpose his life had never held. She smiled and he only looked back at her. Her smiles were not things that needed reflection.

She slid away from him and started for the stairs. It was chaos down there and he wondered if she could feel it, wondered if she was drawn to it the way he was drawn to her- to his death.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #62 on: March 05, 2014, 09:47:00 pm »
Russell followed, but at a much slower pace. Nina did not look to confirm, her eyes locking only on the figure of interest. At his comment about thievery, she smiled. ‘So do you.’ And he would all but confess it, too. Nina did not move into the wild body of dancers, but remained on the outskirts of the chaos where she could be seen and looked upon easily. She wondered if Russell would kill the vampire so she could acquire the jewel, or perhaps pick it from the lion.

Their deal could not be complete until she had that, after all. Yet, her mind already plotted a thousand alternatives. Snatching the pendant had been a good idea, after all, even if her intended target for it was not Marcy but Gabrielle.

Things could be changed.


“I wish no partnership with you,”
Nina told him bluntly, for she could be honest, sometimes. She had decided that already, and her mind had not changed. “I wish only that which you’ve taken from Lisa,” smile curved on her lips, “The jewel, that is,” he did not say it was in his possession, but she knew. He chose her, for the jewel, rather than go about hunting down Millicent.

He had made an offer, but she shook her head,
“No. You would not want to make such a deal with me,” for Nina took all, “I will trade you something if I must, but it will not be flesh of myself, nor the bat.” And so she might refuse his game if he wanted anything else. Already, plan B had manifested clearly.

It didn’t have to be the shiny diamond to attract Marcy, not really.

Even so, she stole a look over her shoulder to Russell. The fires within her eyes didn’t hide her anger at the situation, at the lion, and what he had that was hers.
‘Won’t you make our deal work?’ It wanted him to do something about the loss of the jewel, but did not say what. She wouldn’t encourage violence—she’d owe Russell more. Violence also was not her way, it was a last resort. She traded and seduced. She banked on her victim’s foolish trust and ego getting in their way of better judgment. 

Would Gabrielle care enough to intervene and steal the life from the lion’s eyes? He promised a bounty. Nina could insist he give her this bounty—or else let her name her own.

Actually, the more she thought of this, the more she considered the Lion might be doing her a favor. Her eyes shifted back to the creature as she noticed Marcy and Fenton return to the chaos.
“Give me the diamond or tell me what you will take for it.” She would decide if she was willing to pay the price upon hearing it. If not, Plan B, and her target was already here. It would only take an artful spin of her heel and some steps to begin it.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #63 on: March 06, 2014, 10:16:51 am »
This was why rules mattered, Russell thought, looking over the chaotic scene before him. Rules would have saved them from this mess or at least, possibly prevented it. As it was, there was no reason as to why this shouldn't occur, actually, it was a better question as to why this hadn't occurred sooner. The lion was a beast after all. They weren't prone to civility, an obvious observation considering how Ellian had acted earlier, shattering glass without the slightest thought, his posture a complete mess about the table.

Nina handled it well, their predicament, however, Russell didn't ignore the look given his way. Was she expecting his assistance? Was he supposed to grant it? He supposed, because of their deal, he should have. The diamond promised a taste of Miss Devemor and another meal, although the meal was a brute of a man.

Could he deal with the lion? Was he willing to deal with the cat? His mind gave an immediate no to the latter. While he wouldn't have minded aggravating the feline, confrontation was something he wanted to avoid. Flesh eaters were difficult creatures and the thought of those teeth even grazing him left the vampire disgusted.

He wouldn't bother unless it was absolutely necessary.

Behind him, descending the stairs was the woman Nina wanted, her imposing bodyguard beside her. He wondered if the pair of them knew why this was occurring, if they had any idea that Marcy was the cause of it all. Would it amuse the liver eater to know that fact?

They needed better control of this situation, something that Nina hadn't quite achieved. Moving forward, Russell avoiding what he could, eyes sharp, taking in every detail, preferring not to mark his suit in the slightest. He stopped to stand near Nina, smiling a face full of charm. It wasn't an expression he figured would do anything for the lion, but he wore it nonetheless.

"I see you brought the jungle here, Ellian." Russell started, recalling their previous conversation at the table. "And here I thought I'd never get to see it." His smile became a smirk, hand on Nina's leathered shoulder. "I do hope you'll consider Nina's offer. I'd hate for our relations to go sour."

Beau

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #64 on: March 07, 2014, 02:30:29 am »

Marcy wandered away from Gabrielle and he didn’t stop her.  She opened the door and ultimately let through Niles, another one of his bartenders.  Gabrielle reached out and turned on the light as Marcy departed.

He didn’t answer her questions, although he could have said ‘no’ and let that alone suffice for all three.  His list wasn’t a matter of vengeance and not everyone was on it.  If Millicent was dead upstairs then her name would have actually disappeared from the page – the scripted names a transient thing that ebbed and flowed with life, death and accountability.  As for finding Marcy downstairs, he doubted he’d have the opportunity.

“Did you call the police?” Gabrielle asked Niles as the man came further into the room.  Leaning against the desk, Gabrielle looked calm, his suit unruffled.  If the other man suspected any sort of tryst interrupted he likely dispelled the notion quickly.

Niles nodded.  “I pushed the button under the bar.  I suspect they will arrive any moment.”

By then Gabrielle doubted there would be much for them to see.  No reason to shut the place down. “Send them upstairs.  I’ll be in my office.”  He took a look around the room before moving to the door.  Nothing seemed to be disturbed, so Millicent had apparently picked the upstairs option.  “Have Morgan keep the lighting dim and the music loud.  And open a keg.”  The DJ knew to control the crowd with sensory overload.  The staff had seen it before, although he suspected Lisa being a target might cause a few to be jumpy.  “If anyone else needs to see me…”

Niles hesitated as Gabrielle passed him on the way to the hallway.  That cued the owner to ask, “And?”

The bartender rung his hands, “The animal killed Horris.  Threw him down like he was a paper doll.”

Gabrielle supposed he should try to act shocked, but he wasn’t.  Ellian sat high on his danger scale for a number of reasons.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” was all he said.  It wasn’t good for morale to mention the list, or the fact that the bouncer had been there for some time, perhaps too long.  “I’ll ask the police to manage the issue.”

With that Gabrielle turned out the light and walked on to the stair well.  He could hear the music grow louder even as he walked up, rather than down the flight of steps.  Here it seemed violence had visited as well.  Millicent lay in the hall unmoving.  Gabrielle tapped her with the toe of his boot, before bending down to drag her body to a nearby closet.   He propped the lifeless form on a bucket and put a mop in her hand, thankful the method of death was bloodless.  No mess.   No incriminating evidence on his hands or clothes.

Gabrielle examined Millicent’s pale neck and came to the conclusion that the vampire was responsible. “At least there will be some vengeance tonight.”  He stood and shut the utility closet door.  The click was satisfying, but the job undone.

“Come out, come out, where ever you are?”   There was still a soul to reap.  And he wasn’t in the mood for hide and seek. 
« Last Edit: March 07, 2014, 05:43:24 am by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #65 on: March 07, 2014, 08:15:48 pm »
Ellian had been greatly displeased suddenly, when she had declined his suggestion. It had not been a great desire to begin with, but now that she'd so sharply cut off its possibility, his want for it flared. Maybe she would taste delicious. Maybe she and the bat would compliment the guard's gray matter and teeth perfectly in his belly. A thing of blood and a thing of essence. A poetic meal. He was sure they could appreciate it together, dancing in the acids of his tracts and pouches.

She'd not just been selfish, whether this generosity had been intentional or not. Her own affinity for the rock had spiced it infinitely. Ellian cupped the shape of it, where it protruded under his hip. Would she mistake it for something else as he squeezed it, measuring his strength against one of the hardest substances on earth, something barbed? "Not so tempting." he said over the head of people finding their way back to their own amusements, now that the deaths from minutes ago had miraculously become yesterdays news. "You want something from me and start negotiations with restrictions." The eyes clipped lashes at her, trying to make sense of the problem he'd voiced.

Ellian had the time to lower his shoulders and turn that wondering gaze away in growing disinterest before the bat clicked his shoes next to hers. The lion looked back, somewhat hopeful Russell could streamline Nina's offer, and reinvent it into something palatable. The reference to their earlier tidbit about Ellian's knowledge of nature caught him where it should, connecting through familiarity. His ego warmed at the thought that he might have created this disarray in the people on purpose. It was a glorious thing to nudge others into chaos, wasn't it? The face rippled in its closed lip smile. Ellian was lapping at the nicety.

He sunk into the mass and surfaced again outside it, to where Nina had decided to stand. Lions don't swim in the rivers of returning rain, but all beasts would bathe in streams of prey, if they could, so Ellian decided he didn't like the lack of touches and stepped back, partially swallowed by the writhing wall again. A sigh of pleasure. The fear had gone, the electricity trickling back in their bodies. "How can it turn sour?" he asked, no poison. The relationship between bats and lions was as it always had been. Bats took blood relying on the lion's disinterest or apathy for survival. Ellian wasn't about to compromise truths he'd known forever because this bat wore a suit. True to Russell's suggestion, he addressed Nina again.

"I'd like vengeance right now. I lost my quarry to wolves recently. I'd like them weakened so I could eat them without worry that they'll change and grow fur." Another smile, taught skin sinking in between covered teeth. He wasn't particularly concerned with the details. He was not one for revenge that was too complicated. The lights departed as the music reached an artful inhale. The crowd stilled in unison as the lion was swallowed, like everything else, but the indoor night. And then everything flickered back with the return of the music.

He wasn't sure he'd still fancy the taste of dogs when and if they made good on this deal. "Or Marcy's leg. You can trade it for your liver." He wasn't an emotional dullard. He knew.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #66 on: March 07, 2014, 11:33:06 pm »
Sure, her plan upon returning to the main floor had been to resume her interactions with the group she’d started the night with. They were there, after all, beneath the changing lights and close to the dance floor. It looked like Nina was talking to Ellian. After the prize, maybe? Marcy was in the midst of lazy steps, biding time while trying to decide if she should interrupt. Nina seemed to be up to something particularly interesting tonight and the idea of finding out what it was too early gave Marcy that tingly feeling in her spine- like she was on the precipice of exposing her own surprise party.

Marcy loved surprises. Truthfully, she loved many more things than she hated. It was difficult for her to think of anything she hated. She disliked some things, like filling her own glasses or seeing nylons without tears, but she could not think of a thing she hated. Her mother had hated many things, but truthfully she had loved to hate things and Marcy was rather certain that meant that her mother had not hated anything at all. That truth had given her much peace when she realized it, because it meant that her mother could not hate her either and the more cause Marcy gave her to be angry and shout like the beast she was, the more her mother loved her deep in the tissue of her heart. Marcy had held that heart. She knew it intimately.

The liver eater stopped on the floor and looked down. Her stacked heel lifted onto the stiletto point before patting the ball of her shoe down again. It was sticky. She couldn’t see the colors of the floor as they were lost to shadow but she knew that kind of sticky and that metallic stink. Pale eyes looked at the two wolves in human bodies sitting on the floor between dancing bodies. They looked messy and satisfied the way only dogs could.

Her arm moved a little at her side and Fenton stopped following, slipping away into bodies and shadows. She turned and looked at the shapes of people around her. A woman was sitting on a couch just passed the ones that loitered on the floor, scattered around her and dazed. They had too much purpose to be convenient and yet too much comfort to be employed. Marcy smiled. Loyalty. The woman had the couch to herself though even her curves did not require all that space. She was looking as pleased and lazy as the others, her lips a sharp red with the slightest smear to give them away.

She was holding something in her hand, her arm spread along the back of that couch and tapping it against the upholstery. With opal eyes and pale skin, her path changed and she marched up to that cluster of beasts. So many like things in one spot. She was practically hopping on those heels when she reached them. A collection, was what they were. She had those yellow eyes following her and with blood in the air their stares were dangerous and her skin was on fire. Before the woman on the couch could speak, Marcy had turned and sat herself down beside her.

“Who?” Was all the pack leader said. It didn’t even sound like a question.

Marcy reached out to shape her arm along the wolf’s and tug the laminated bit of plastic from her fingers. The wolf let her have it. Animals were curious when they thought they were at the top of the food chain. “Marcy Devenmor.” She introduced herself casually, almost absently. “Haven’t we met?” She laughed softly. “I don’t know how I missed you before.” She rolled the card over to see the side not coated in crusting blood. It was a name tag. Marcy didn’t frown, nor was she entirely surprised to see Lisa’s name. It was a shame that she would never be able to find out what sort of monster Lisa was, that she spent her nights flirting with the deaths they offered.

“I am full, human.”
The wolf mumbled, looking away. They were such reasonable things after having eaten, especially when what sat beside them was nothing they considered a threat. The wolf thought a mouse had curled up beside her. A nuisance. Marcy thought flesh eaters were a delicacy. Pure animal with large livers. “Go.”

Marcy sighed dramatically in her disappointment. “It must be true then, that wolves just aren’t as much fun as lions.” She stood, hips rolling to bring her up. A hand grabbed her arm and printed a bruise into her skin. Marcy bit back the smile that tried to grow on her mouth before looking down at the wolf with large, frightened eyes. She loved this game. It was the oldest game the world knew. The wolf inhaled deep and Marcy watched those pupil’s widen and her nostrils flare. “You play with the cat.” The wolf growled.

Marcy blinked innocently. “I do. He says he’s going to eat me later tonight.” She fudged- they were still in negotiation.

The wolf rumbled with greed and those fingers tightened on Marcy’s arm before pulling her down onto the couch again. “And you welcome that?”

Now she did smile, though the shape of her mouth did not show teeth. Animals understood teeth. She rolled from where she sat up to straddle the waist of the wolf, sitting on her thighs and smiling down at her. Her hands were in her lap, fingers seeming to timidly touch at the wolf’s abdomen. She leaned in shyly, as though to tell a secret and felt the wolf sniff her again, grumbling at the smell of the lion and yet pride to replace that stink kept her from pulling away. “I’m a little excited.” She admitted. “I’ve never been eaten before.” There was cold metal in Marcy’s hand, between her fingers, a secret that hovered close to that abdomen. “Have you ever been eaten before?” The liver eater asked and her smile split to show teeth.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #67 on: March 08, 2014, 04:12:01 pm »
Nina knew as she watched expressions she’d have little interest in further propositions. Of course, her mind was liking plan B more and more. It required no sharing. “One should know what they cannot negotiate for,” she said to the lion’s comment about restrictions. It streamlined things, really, and his hand made it clear he held that hard diamond.

The vampire’s hand fell over the top of her jacket, and she glanced over, up, at him. He wanted to further negotiations. She made no motion to remove his hand, but followed the lion as he moved about the crowd of people, seeming to enjoy being amidst them as they brushed up against them, lost to the dance. Nina did not venture closer. A question not meant for her to answer was asked, before the lion finally got to the point.

Vengeance. More action. Had he not mentioned Marcy’s leg as an alternative, Nina might have considered it. Just knowing he wanted her quarry, however, made it less than enticing. Vengeance for the lion?
‘No.’ Perish the thought. She had many ways to get what she wanted, and Marcy had moved to go join the creatures. From what Nina could observe from the corner of her eye, from between the writhing bodies, it seemed like Marcy was about to have fun, too.

The lion required an answer,
“I will consider the former, with these wolves,” and she would, but only if it became convenient in her dealings with Marcy. “As to the latter, I’m afraid I have to decline.” If she got the diamond, she would already be sharing with Russell. She would not share Marcy between another. It was bad enough she had one to deal with. “I don’t make those sorts of deals.” She’d not trade her liver, wouldn't even joke of it.

Marcy would probably laugh if it was ever even offered. She’d know the trap.

As if to suggest she would humor that deal, she rolled her shoulder to remove the vampire’s hand and walked through the crowd without delay to where Marcy was now sitting on another’s lap. She didn’t care about the intimate posturing, was not even bothered by the silver she noticed. She walked right up behind the sitting woman and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, putting her head next to Marcy’s, practically on the other woman’s left shoulder.

Her eyes locked with the pack leader’s, though, as she whispered to Marcy,
“Do you know how many people want to have you?” It was for both of the ladies, for the wolf ought to know the enemy she’d made of the lion, of Marcy’s intentions, and Marcy should know her own foes.

Not that she was going to stop Marcy if she wanted to jam that knife into the wolf woman then and there. She would adjust herself appropriately if movement became necessary to allow it, even.

« Last Edit: March 08, 2014, 04:19:50 pm by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #68 on: March 09, 2014, 06:49:07 pm »
Gabrielle inched towards where the body had been before.  In the corner, amidst the shadow hunched a glowing form.  Likely only he could see the wayward soul, trapped between the planes by the semi-death of the vampire’s kiss.  If Russell had stopped a few drops before he might have turned the thief.  Instead Millicent clung to this world by a hair’s breathe of mutation, the line that Gabrielle saw a narrow thread that chained the soul to the limp body now hidden away.

Partnership with the vampire might be useful if there were some way to continue it.  His job was now so simple that he was almost tempted to finish the job with his bare hands.  The glowing ball sensed his approach, and straightened.  The expression on her face was defiant as though she didn’t believe she were dead.

“Is that what you really look like?” she said.

The blade in his hand was curved, but to all prying eyes he appeared the same.  White where Millicent saw black. Flesh where she saw bone.  “People see what they want to.”

Millicent sneared. It seemed Gabrielle only deserved her resentment.  “I saw the spread of cards on your desk.  It won’t be long before you join me in hell.”

Gabrielle lifted his hand.  Debate over with a simple swipe.  His cells seemed to flicker, light and dark merging together for a moment, and then light ruled.

“That’s where you are wrong,” Gabrielle said to the empty air.

The weapon vanished. Hands now free he lifted long fingers to straighten his hair.  He took  a deep breath, counted to ten slowly and went into his office.  There was a touch of disarray, but not as much as he figured.  The safe was closed.  He opened it now, dialing the combination slowly.  Papers were in place.  The jewelry was restacked in a slightly different order. The cash gone.

Knuckles white on the chrome handle of the safe door, Gabrielle forced himself to breathe.

“You stole from me.”

Russell didn’t strike him as greedy.  He and Nina had left together.

He let reality sink in.  Repeated it.  “You stole from me!”

Anger, frustration, and something else merged together in a violent impulse.  With a sweep of his hand the top shelf of  the safe was hurled onto the floor.  Paper and jewels bounced but made little sound, compared to Gabrielle’s howl of rage.

The list was gone.  He couldn’t check but he knew the answer.  Nina’s name was now on it. He'd deal with them both.

Forgetting the police were likely on their way up to see him, Gabrielle left his office. Calm began to return, but he betrayed the wrath writhing within was the force with which he opened the stairwell door.  The steel nearly flew off the hinges and slammed against the wall, ricocheting shut with a bang.  His steps were even and methodical.  His breathing controlled by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs.  He even smiled.

Music greeted Gabrielle as he emerged from the stairwell.  Nina was moving away from the dancers.  Gabrielle focused on Russell first.  It was easy to walk up behind the man and place a hand on his shoulder.  "I understand congratulations are in order?"

His fingers would move to the base of his victim's neck.  As Russell looked towards the sound of his voice, Gabrielle would be sure that their eyes locked, fingers holding his skull in place, thumb and finger pressing so hard his nails would draw blood.  Gabrielle was angry and he didn't care to disguise his intentions.  "No one steals from me," he whispered.

He heard a scream.  Gabrielle always did, but he was never sure if the sound carried, focused on the task.  The soul reluctantly surrendered the body that held it, slithering forth out of Russell's eyes and into Gabrielle's.  That moment he'd not shared with Marcy took only a few brief seconds.

Gabrielle decided not to clean up the mess.  Disgusted he released his hold on Russell's corps and let the body crumple at his feet.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2014, 01:15:02 am by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #69 on: March 09, 2014, 09:35:12 pm »
She had received a polite nod when she declared that she may or may not be interested in one of his suggestions. The diamond weighed heavier on his leg now, and it was a welcome, solid feeling now that she had added worth to its existence. She went off, toward the cloud of blood that was more tangible now in this oasis of scent exposed to Ellian's surgeon precision nose. It was a welcome show of good will, to be away so soon. He liked that. The lion raised a dull paw and waved at her, though she wouldn't see it.

Russell was left and Ellian decided to extend the courtesy this creature seemed to be so attached to. After all, the threat just now had been beautiful served, despite its fanged edges. "She knows what she wants. What's in it for you, Bat?" Something in his voice might suggest he was probing Russell for overlapping areas of interest, that the cat may continue this role as trader. He liked to fancy himself a mindful business person, but in reality his attention could not be invested, though some of the treasures he acquired could. He was a slave to his own bloodthrist first and foremost, and to someone like himself, and as the bat, blood came cheap since the ones who possessed refused to set a price on it. What choice was there but to steal it?

He had more in common with this creature before him than most eaters, he discovered. You cannot have the flesh if you do not spill the blood. At least he'd not seen it happen. What a joyless meal, the strands of muscle without its nourishing fluid, soaking through and pouring off. It fitted the vampire's own image of himself, pale displaced flesh. Just taking the blood did seem more refined. Refined too often meant delicate, though, and there was nothing in the pleasure of taking parts of other things that should be delicate. He did not always give into it, but Ellian loved the frenzy that was ready inside him. Both the man that he had been and the mythical lion he'd taken part of had their own rages. Everyone won when Ellian fed furiously. It was a kind of peace.

There wasn't much time for the bat to answer before the bird came to inject his own agenda. Ellian looked at the scene unfold, and listened to the one-way conversation through the base and electronics that competed for airwaves. The stealing of Russell's self went swiftly. A well-oiled ordeal. Garbielle was one to do things effectively, Ellian would guess. The subject matter graced the lion, twitching his lip to momentarily announce a fang. In a very clear way, Ellian was also a thief as far as this bird was concerned.

Russell laid where he landed and that would be the conclusion of the polite collector of blood. "If he were still alive, I think he would have called you rude." Ellain said as he squatted down close, loosening the tie and opening the collar. Curiosity, it was the demise of his ilk. He looked up as he continued to exposed the late vampire. "What did he taste like? Anything to enjoy inside all that manners?" he asked before dropping his view again, sunlit attention falling on the unsurprisingly pallid skin. Ellian caressed the flat chest as he had caressed the card with the hanging man, and three rows opened to let loose a stream of dark red. He dipped his thumb in the delta of the rivers.

"Do you want anything from me, Host? Some people are making deals to get to other people. Bat here was negotiating with me, too. I feel as though you're invested in something." he said as he flicked a large tung out to taste the blood. Nothing there but taste and texture, nothing sinister and nothing drawing. Nothing of real value. Ah, so it was true that the soul flavors the flesh. In this, the blood would be the marinade. What would Russell have said about his corpse being so culinary unappealing? "I have ties to Marcy and Nina, if you're interested. I might be able to get something for you. All for the price of, say, a mouthful?"

He liked making deals. He'd always liked that. Upholding anything, though, had never been his suit.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #70 on: March 10, 2014, 04:56:50 pm »
It had been sudden- the movement of her hands and the greed of her soul. It was the speed they never expected from her. With the comfort of Nina’s body against her back, her hands moved, slashing that thin scalpel up with such blind certainty. It was so smooth, so quick and and her face so indifferent that the pain wouldn’t even register in this beast at first, not with their eyes locked and their faces close. Marcy would see those eyes widen and change in color when she drove her thin fingers up into that chest cavity to grab at what she wanted.

It wasn’t easy to reach. Not as difficult at the heart but not as easy as the stomach or intestines. It was there, just beneath the ribs, tucked away but huge. It had been difficult to find the first times. It had been difficult to get a grip on and cut free. She could be a very messy eater when she had the time to be. She supposed the cut and newly stained shirt of the wolf would argue that she was messy even when she was quick.

Her thighs tightened around that waist just to stay on when the wolf stood in rage. She watched those teeth multiply in that human jaw before the jaw started to change as well, fingers still moving, scalpel no longer cold. She inhaled when that arm struck, throwing her back and into Nina to have them tumbling onto the floor a surprising ways away. Bodies had been forced to move and wolves were waking and rising from their lazy stupor.

This was the time when Marcy would have stood and with slick fingers, she would have pushed that morsel of liver she’d cut free of the dog. Would have, if attentions weren’t being drawn to the dance floor and the man in white. The wolves seemed torn as well between their anger and the scene. No one liked to be reminded how easy it was for a soul sucker to end the game.

Marcy blinked and saw Russell’s body drop. It seemed sudden and rash but she didn’t imagine Gabrielle was such a creature. He kept a list, after all. “What did you do?” She whispered to Nina though she didn’t look. Heels found floor and she pushed herself up, dropping the bit of liver she’d won in utter abandon and grabbing for Nina’s hand instead, ready to tug her further from the place where Ellian examined the body and Gabrielle stood. There wasn’t much to be done when a soul eater wanted you, other than hide.

Her skin tingled at the prospect. Unless he was on a rampage, Marcy wasn’t sure she’d be a target though in truth, most of her friends desired to kill her, even the one whose hand she clung to with bloody fingers. She felt the urge to hide Nina, certain that if Russell had been deserving of a death by Gabrielle- so was the essence eater. “What did you do?” She asked again, a mix of excitement and reprimand in her voice. It sounded as confusing as it might be to explain and yet there was no conflict in those pale features.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #71 on: March 10, 2014, 06:20:31 pm »
It seemed Nina’s presence and question drew just enough attention, for the wolf didn’t know when she was cut. Nina did. A smile curved on her lips as she enjoyed the tensing of muscles beneath her. In went the fingers. ‘So very messy.’ But Nina only loosened her grip to allow Marcy freedom of movement, encouraging the mess, the feasting. Her eyes looked for Fenton, wondering when he might jump in.

This situation was about to become quite chaotic.

The wolf rose, and Nina had to adjust quickly to remain a balance for Marcy as she tried in vain to remain attached to the wolf. An arm lifted and struck Marcy. By connection, it threw Nina back as well, and her shoulder struck the floor hard, Marcy falling near. She laughed, despite the shooting pain, laughed as if this were some great joke.

The laughter didn’t die easily, but it did fade to a smile as the attentions divided. Her eyes caught Russell fall, and then they quickly averted, not daring to catch Gabrielle’s gaze.
‘Oh, so I did succeed.’ She had her reaction. Now she had to see if she could ride out the consequences of it.

There was a whisper, and she turned her eyes to Marcy. That excitement was bubbling up in the woman who reached her feet first. Nina reached for the bloody hand, and with her other she picked up the bit of liver left on the floor. Her feet stepped her behind Marcy, but her hand never released the other. She offered out the liver if Marcy still wanted it.

The excitement found its way into her own whispered answer to Marcy.
“I may or may not have stolen from Gabrielle after Millicent was dealt with,” the answer was obvious. She had indeed stolen from Gabrielle, her idea, not Russell’s. Poor Russell, his fate was undeserved. “I may have a need to get out of here,” she squeezed Marcy’s hand. Nina could run, and quite fast. Parkour was an art she was practiced in, but she wouldn’t deny extra help in escaping from an upset soul-eater. One look, after all, and she was dead.

As such, she kept her eyes always on some part of Marcy. She whispered,
“I could give you something shiny.” If Marcy had taken the liver, she’d reach up to show off the jewel on her neck. If not, she’d first drop the bit of liver to the ground to do just the same. “If you help me.” So far, Nina was proving to honor her deals. It wasn’t the trade she wanted to make, but it would have to suffice.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #72 on: March 11, 2014, 04:24:29 am »
I am rude?

Gabrielle turned as Ellian approached, his expression still distant as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.  Like a dog with a bone, the flesh eater sniffed at Russell’s limp form.  Gabrielle looked down at the spectacle, his regal nose wrinkled slightly in distaste although whether it was Ellian’s scent or the mutilation that he was most perturbed by it would be difficult to say.

He offered no words.  He wanted no deals and did not believe the lion held any power he could not acquire on his own.  Before the other was even finished speaking, Gabrielle turned away.  The dance continued, but his focus was elsewhere.  Only one or two of the guests on the parquet floor looked at him oddly.  The others smiled as he smiled.  Waved to their host.  Laughed and danced unconcerned that they were spilling perfectly good alcohol as their glasses moved up and down to the beat.

Gabrielle was working his way through the crowd towards Nina and Marcy.  They were standing now, the lighting dim enough that Gabrielle couldn’t see the blood and what they were holding.  He barely noticed the wolves nearby.  Nina was consciously avoiding his gaze and so Gabrielle kept staring in her direction – his anger deepening with each step although his heart hardened under the ice of it. 

He got close, but didn’t get within arm’s reach.  Miles stepped into his field of vision, causing Gabrielle to break stride.

“What?” the man in white ground out.

Miles pointed towards the front door.  A couple of uniformed policemen were there.  They weren’t familiar faces.  “Rookies answering a routine disturbance call,” the bartender explained.

That could make it easier, or more difficult.  In any case it was a different sort of problem to solve.  Gabrielle shifted direction and went to greet the two near the door.  He offered a hand to shake and introduced himself as the owner.  He wore a look of mock confusion as they tried to explain why they were there. Gabrielle pretended it was too loud for him to hear.

Gabrielle suggested, “Let’s go upstairs to my office.”
« Last Edit: March 11, 2014, 05:17:30 am by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #73 on: March 11, 2014, 08:57:54 pm »
The wolves, fat with Lisa and her kin, had awoken with bloodied mouths and rounded eyes. Jaws tense like stone. It was confusing to feel so elated and secure in their pack, while at the same time smelling the enhanced iron of their leader, as though she had died and was now condensing. Their head beast was growling, wet and hollowed out. They stood together watching her, their outlines blurring as they quaked in a volatile mixture of worry and anger.

She had been bested by prey. Realization dulled the edge of her precious adrenaline, and the pain introduced itself with the rational thought. She was both animal and woman, which meant she had the properties to wield her beast rather than be fettered to it. A vicious reflex of vengeance urged her to turn. Hissing blood through her stifling teeth she decided against it, as the strain would add to the gape. In her larger form she would heal faster, but what good would it do her if she was dead half way toward it?

Ellian watched the bird fly over the congested floor. No interest in what was left of its victim when the soul was gone and the punishment had been dealt. A practical creature, Ellian deduced, which was probably the best personality to own and run an establishment such as this. The cat smiled where he squatted, trusting only to shadows between green and blue lightning from the mounted machines to hide his wall of white weapons. They were coated in saliva, ready lubricated whenever blood promised food. It was false stimulation. Russell was not good meat.

The cat lifted the arm that wouldn't fight and sniffed the knuckles. How old was this hand? With some unjustifiable tenderness, he put the limb back onto the stomach of the departed, serious vampire. The cat moved away, and when he did, the things that were not so picky about their carcasses closed the gap in the crowd. Nothing goes to waste in the Sanguine Eden. Drowning in this sea did not mean being crushed by the pressure in its depths. Ellian had his lips taut again. Famously, cats do not like bathing. He swam through it, nonetheless.

The wolves had gathered around her. She couldn't speak with her mouth brimming with the teeth of her giant self. Her pack had hairy legs bu bald chests, not yet completely submerged in the change they were capable of. There was a reason she was the leader. She was bent around her injury, holding herself together. They did not know whether to help her or dethrone her. The wound was healing as they decided. Standing was not treason. The blood wasn't as appetizing as it was rousing.

"I know her, you know, the liver eater." Ellian said as jumped onto the shoulders of one of the subservient males, the claws of his feet hooking and providing him a perch for exactly half a moment before the beast howled in agony. It must have been torture to raise his arms, but the beast did, flailing to get Ellian off. With a firm grip on the wolf's skull, he had no trouble staying on the bucking animal. When the lion lowered a second hand onto the head, the furry legs folded, and the two creature structure crashed onto its first set of knees. A satisfied, climaxing roar thundered through Ellian's mouth when he drew the head from its neck, rendering himself full length and standing upon the impaled shoulders of the enemy. The head was at the end of his upstretched arm.

"I'll introduce you." he promised as the body underneath bent, lowering him to the floor, where he unhooked from the man, turned back to its smallest version. He held the head with two hands, a strange amalgamation of canine and human now. Mid-transformation, how clever. How late. Marcy's favorite food was on the air. There'd be no question. He roared back at their barking. He had inadvertently saved the leader's life. "Oh shut it!" he insisted, angry as well. "You took my meal from me!" and chucked the head at them. They wouldn't have listened without a show of power. Becking for an audience in this way, though, had been Ellian's pleasure.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #74 on: March 12, 2014, 11:43:58 am »
Marcy grinned wide when she looked between them to see the bit of liver she’d cut free of the wolf now held in Nina’s hand. She looked down at her own, surprised that she had let it go, but then giggled when she saw her dirty fingers linked with Nina’s. Some things were more fun than a stolen morsel. She raised an eyebrow at Nina as though she should have known then but her smile remained, pleased that she would try to return it to her. Her other hand pushed the bit of liver from Nina’s fingers to abandon it again.

“I can always get more.” She reminded, nudging her chin toward the ruckus of wolves a good two dozen bodies away form them now. “She’ll live and they heal fast.” Marcy laughed. “In fact, her liver might be whole again already... really, I should get one of those tied up...” She thought aloud before setting the idea of her own buffet style flesh eater aside for later consideration. They weren’t the easiest sort to cage but she could see the value in it.

Though even Marcy knew it would only be a matter of time before any captive she kept talked her into letting them go. She enjoyed affection almost as much as she did the thrill of dying.

Marcy tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow when Nina said she may have stolen from Gabrielle. She offered a price for Marcy’s help and Marcy was ready to fake insult when the essence drinker gestured to the necklace she wore. Shiny indeed. Marcy’s other hand came up to touch the necklace, smearing a little blood on that neck. Her tapered fingers were dark, colored by the life of a wolf. In the dark of this club it looked like her hands were gloved to to the knuckles. “What did you steal?”

She looked up to see Gabrielle moving toward them, well, toward Nina. She hissed between her teeth and started pulling Nina away, pushing her closer and closer to the back of the building. There was an exit there if they needed it. She could feel Fenton watching her, the way he always was, waiting for her to gesture for him or get so in over her head that he no longer cared about the fun of her night.

Marcy stared at the angel though the angel stared only at Nina. She stopped moved them away from him when one of his men intercepted him, pointing out the officers at the door. “Any chance we can just put back whatever you stole?” The liver eater asked curiously, her attention now divided between Gabrielle’s exit and Ellian’s show. If the pack leader did survive her own kin, Marcy might have reason to leave this party as well. “I mean, if you put it back, he should be fine.” Marcy decided that that made sense.

Leaving the party seemed like a waste of so much building tension and she still hadn’t tasted the lion yet. Gabrielle was heading upstairs. That might complicate putting back whatever Nina had taken.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #75 on: March 12, 2014, 04:07:45 pm »
Fingers ran the liver off her hand. Nina grinned in understanding, looked to the wolves when they were called to attention by Marcy’s words. They were too animalistic for Nina’s tastes. Kissing one could be complicated if their lips didn’t match hers. They were more for Marcy’s tastes, animals with livers that could regrow. “You would get bored,” Nina had suggested. Then again, that might just be her who got bored.

The ‘shiny’ was considered after Nina mentioned it. Warm blood graced her neck, tainted the red-jeweled necklace, and Nina smiled. That question again.
“What do you think I stole?” It was right in her hand, exactly what she’d stolen, besides money. She did not say it overtly, but suggested instead, “I think he’s upset with how I treat his heart, really.” That look he’d given her was still burned in memory, but she wouldn’t risk seeing if that fire was the same as the one he casted upon her now.

Marcy hissed. It was adorable. Nina couldn’t help but giggle despite the severity of the situation. Marcy was taking traits from the cat now.

Then, the movement stopped. Nina followed shadows and saw that Gabrielle was being removed as a threat by another. Not Fenton. Nina cast her eyes up to Marcy as she suggested the things be returned. Her lips pouted,
“But then I leave completely empty-handed,” she motioned to the lion and his show with the wolves, “He stole the diamond. Gabe should really be mad at him.” But of course he wasn’t. He was mad at the ones who meant things to him, to Russell whom he had history with, and to her, who abused his kindness and patience too often.

“Besides,”
she stepped closer, touched Marcy’s cheek, whispered, “I keep what I take,” her eyes were focused on Marcy. This was something Marcy ought to know by now, if not from the items she’d variously stolen, then from the essence she took. It was never split. It was always, all hers. She might humor sharing other parts, but never what she wanted. That went for all things, this jacket, the necklace, and all of the money, was now hers.

And right now, she wanted Gabrielle’s things, even if there was no rhyme or reason for it.

She drew her hand back from Marcy's cheek and wiped the blood from her neck, from the jewel. She stepped to add distance away, hand leaving Marcy's. She tasted it, let her expression sour,
“I do not understand it.” Blood just didn’t taste good.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #76 on: March 13, 2014, 06:21:54 am »
The two police officers agreed to follow Gabrielle further inside the club.  There was an elevator that he chose to take this time, avoiding any issues with fire code and potential mess on the stairs.  The elevator was operated by a key and Gabrielle controlled the access for just such an occasion.  Typically he preferred the stairs.

The music from the club piped into the elevator speaker system and Gabrielle used that as an excuse to move the newest guests farther away from the chaotic scene below.  At the second floor he allowed the doors to open, ushering the officers to the tidy stage prop setting of office 2B. 

Gabrielle turned on the lights and motioned to the chairs, “Now, tell me again – how can I help you?”

“The alarm under your bar was tripped.”

Gabrielle nodded.  “Yes, one of my bartenders alerted me to the error.  Mile didn’t realize he’d bumped it and just told me about the issue when you arrived.”

One of the officers asked, “Was he the man with you?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle said, recalling that Miles had walked him to the door.  “As you can tell we aren’t being robbed.  Sometimes the guests get a bit rowdy, but nothing that our staff can’t handle.  Miles said he accidently hit the button while moving a carton of bottles, which has happened before."  Typically once a month around the full moon.  "I keep meaning to have the thing rewired to a new, less sensitive location.”  He shrugged as though he couldn’t understand why he was so forgetful.

“We’d like to talk to Miles.”

Gabrielle stood and went to the sideboard.  He opened the crystal decanter and poured himself a drink of the scotch he liked.  He lifted the bottle in a silent offer to share, but was refused. No surprise there.  “He’s working at the moment.  As the owner, I’d think you’d take my word for the situation.”

“We’d also like to take a look around.”

Gabrielle didn’t smile.  He was all business.  “You'd like a lot of things."  His voice was cool. "This is largely a private party tonight.  Invited guests only.  Name tags.  If you wish to stay, I’d have to charge you the cover.”
« Last Edit: March 13, 2014, 06:24:38 am by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #77 on: March 13, 2014, 08:09:16 pm »
The dogs would not listen to reason, their brother's flesh still on the cat. They yelled until their voices broke, snarls voiding their already weak arguments. The cat didn't care for fancy pleas, he much rather this, even though it marked a dangerous thought inevitable turn of events. They had become more like their own totems, which mean they would carry all the annoying traits of such animals too. There was something to be said for the relationship between those like Ellian, and those that howled needlessly at the moon.

The queen beast stood taller, her hunching over the wound having come to an end. There was no gratitude in her copied eyes for what Ellian had done. He hadn't had the intent to save her from mutiny in this sea of edible, swaying forage, but he maintained he should get some credit. She still had her human brain in place, and an equally sophisticated smile. "You are an idiot, Cat-who-doesn't-turn." Ellian was pricked by the fact that she thought such a nickname would be an insult. "She right there." and she nodded in the right direction. "Our noses are better than your cunning."

Ellian supposed he'd been trying deals on everyone today. He wanted to answer something clever. There was a discrepancy in the discussion of whether wolves of kettle-cats were smarter. There was no such patience in him when he saw the puddle of men grow in size and not in number. They would venture it all here, then. "Stop that!" he roared, loud enough to take the space that the music occupied. He jumped into them, slashing with swords at the end of long fingers.

They knocked him around, drunk on their transforming rapture, and agitated by the distraction of the strong lion. Ellian didn't have the time or the space to deal slaying touches, but he was more than capable of disturbing them in their pursuit for their warring state. It was a good plan in its simplicity. Ellian was well versed in belligerence. Now he simply cut at all the limbs he could see, and ate the punishment best he could. His reflexes were better than theirs, but they had more sensory input for him than he could manage elegantly.

There would be a fold in the people soon, a ripple arrowing toward where the two women stood, the one with the deadly kiss and the one with the deadly sentiments. At the end of it, where the ripple met the ebbing of dancers, an event would occur. Ellian burst out, two obstructing girls tossed heedlessly to the side with claw marks on their good clothes. In his flight toward them, Marcy and Nina would be able to see his right-side collection of teeth, as that skin had been ripped, shredded at the edges, cheek gone to make his smile ever crooked, favoring that direction. The eye on the other side had been given a longer socket, the corner of the lids elongated by wolf's fang all the way trough his temple to his ear. The sunlit orb itself, set in its snowy ball, was intact and looked like a shining comet on his face, with a crimson tail.

He intended to steal Marcy on his way, that the chasing dogs couldn't have her. He'd hold on to her any way he could, teeth or arm, and even bring Nina along on his shoulder, as long as they didn't slow him down. There were fewer in the pack following. As it turns out, one lion can not take down a full pack of wolves. His plan was to spirit the price away from the vengeance of the queen wolf, and climb the walls. Famously, dogs aren't very good at scaling vertical, barren surfaces. Perhaps he'd flee upstairs somehow, after that. If he had passengers, he'd ask them, then.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #78 on: March 14, 2014, 11:43:45 am »
Marcy giggled at Nina’s logic. First trying to barter something to her that had been stolen, then refusing to give that same thing she had been willing to barter back to the owner in order to save her soul and then insisting that the cat was at fault. “Ellian stole from the winner, which would be you and Russell... now just you.” Marcy reminded. “What you stole was from the angel with the temper.”

The liver eater leaned her cheek into Nina’s touch, pale eyes looking up at her friend with a frequent eye for her life. She understood what the essence drinker meant when she said that she kept what she took but she couldn’t help but smirk. “Unless you’re trying to trade it away for something else.” She reminded, looking at the necklace again.

She watched Nina clean herself of the blood smears and frowned a little at the effort to wash her away. Her smile was small and almost grim when Nina remarked and made faces at the blood. “And I do not understand yours. So intimate and yet so clean, almost nothing at all.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, a regret that it was so

Gabrielle disappeared but the chaos of the room only exploded in his absence. Voices rose around the roar of a lion and bodies twisted either to look closer to get away from the changing forms in that space of mingling beasts. There was a stampede of sorts ripping through the room. Marcy turned to see it coming and smiled when she realized that it came for her. The liver had grown back. There was metal between her fingers, if the light flickered a certain way it might even be noticeable.

Fenton would move in then. He would try to intercept the violence rushing toward her but he was too human to claim that speed and when he did reach her, because he would still try, those bodies of teeth and muscle and claws would tear him down. His chance to die slipped away when the lion reached them first, not burdened by humanity. A new excitement beat in her heart. When he reached for her she was not certain if he meant to save her, or eat her first.

She could not resist the little laugh that pushed from her chest with all her air when his body hit hers, ripping her up from the ground like a tree with rotted roots. He was quite a sight and once he had her, he moved to quickly for her to see anything else. His arm was around her, his fingers pressed into her side, nails having torn into the silk of her top and the soft of her flesh to keep his grip. They scratched at ribs and if she was not almost certain he would drop her and Nina if she cut open his belly, she might have gone for his liver then.

Suddenly she was on her feet again and the shallow cuts on her side were making her shirt stick to her skin. She staggered there where she stood, looking around and surprised to find the world had quieted. She knew this hall. Ah, yes, the second floor. “Well, that was...” She touched the wall for balance, the music muffled through the floor beneath them. “fast. I don’t know what got the dog so huffy. I barely took anything.” She tossed another look around and then up as though she could see the third floor through the ceiling of the second. “You know, Nina, if you did want to change your mind about returning things we are even closer now...”

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #79 on: March 14, 2014, 05:07:39 pm »
At least they stood in mutual confusion, except, “I wasn’t insulting livers. Maybe raw,” Nina answered. She was only not pleased with the blood. “I have had cooked meat, it was not so terrible.” Not so good, either. “Do you ever cook the liver?” She was quite curious as to that, actually.

Even so, she did make a point to add,
“I’ll remember you like things messy.” Perhaps she’d honor it. Perhaps not. It would be good for Marcy experience something new, something fresh.

Whatever the lion had done meant she wasn’t going to get her answer about cooked livers, or at least, not hear it over the stampede. Nina tensed her body, prepared to make a run for it, but as her eyes skimmed the area for the best direction she was taken by surprise. Quicker than she could evade, the Lion thought to rush ahead of the stampede and take up both she and Marcy like two damsels in distress.

Except he, of course, wasn’t the prince in the story. He was the dragon.

His claws could indeed pierce things, and Nina felt them against the leather, pressing in to keep a hold.
‘Please don’t tear!’ But it did, through the leather, through the shirt, through her skin which became several times hotter to the touch on receiving a wound, her natural defense mechanism. She burned whatever tried to harm her. It made Gabrielle one of those things that was truly threatening, because he didn’t need to touch her to kill her. He wouldn’t be burned if he tried.

The hot blood spilled out, and Nina grit her teeth, reached for her own blade thinking it would be better if the lion was stopped. However, just as it was in her hands, that blade stolen from Millicent, they were set down. He hadn’t run far at all, for they were just near the second floor.

In a fit, Nina threw the blade at Ellian. It was not intended to be fatal, only to express her outrage and annoyance,
“You tore my jacket!” She apparently wasn’t as upset at her own precious skin was marred.

She heard Marcy’s comment,
“No.” Nothing would be returned, her mind unchanged.

The bleeding really did need to stop, though. The jacket might be torn, but it wasn’t ruined. Without ceremony, Nina removed it, and then removed her own shirt, leaving her standing in a black bra and jeans. She used the halter top to wrap around her torso and press against the bleeding injury, to hold the blood in. It was quickly done, and the jacket was then thrown over her shoulders once more. She didn’t bother zipping it up, having little concerns for modesty.
"You know, they could easily pursue you here." Nina's ears were alert for the sounds of the wolves heading this way, too.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #80 on: March 14, 2014, 06:28:13 pm »

“You can’t charge us!” A touch of outrage from the policeman as he stood and prepared to storm out of the office.

Gabrielle maintained his cool.  “Do you visit the donut shop and demand free pastries?  Is coffee provided to you as a bribe?  I couldn’t be seen as showing favoritism.”  A lie of course since he was seldom bothered by authorities.  It didn’t surprise him how many were eaters themselves.  In fact he thought he’d seen at least two in the command chain downstairs and vaguely wondered at their state of mind.  “I’m sure you understand.”

The smile as always was present, but Gabrielle wasn’t amused.  Rapidly he was growing tired of the conversation.

The other officer asked, “How much is it?”

In truth the invite list wasn’t really about money.  Gabrielle wasn’t about to disclose the twist in his business, however, “Two hundred.  Cash.”

“That’s robbery!”  The indignant cop moved forward as though to intimidate.  Fists clenched he glared at Gabrielle.  His barrel chest nearly touched the man in white.

Gabrielle sniffed, and took another swallow of his scotch, one hip leaning against the sideboard.  Silence reigned, enough for it to be clear there were others in the hall, although Gabrielle couldn’t distinctly hear the conversation.  Instead he focused on the men with him, saying to the one with his nose in his face.  “I’d also recommend that you brush your teeth.  I’d expect you to get your money’s worth and garlic breath is unlikely to get you laid tonight.”

The cop was not amused by Gabrielle’s demeanor.  He actually drew his gun.

Gabrielle didn’t twitch.

The gun was reholstered and garlic breath motioned to his partner.  “Let’s go.”

The other still seemed to be considering the prospect of paying.  Then he probably realized he couldn’t expense the perk.  It would raise questions.  He stood and went to the door, the policeman exiting into the hall.

« Last Edit: March 14, 2014, 06:36:18 pm by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #81 on: March 14, 2014, 09:42:24 pm »
He'd been thriving, drinking gulps of his own blood as fuel for the sprint. They came with him, the pair of life-smeared women, smelling of the queen wolf's inner parts. Marcy was particularly saturated in, against him. It would be quite the show, he imagined, if he squeezed her in two parts as he ran, and left her twice dead for the pursuers to find. Would it slow them down, even? Too often, wolves were things of reason and deliberation. They might well stop to either feast or relish in their second hand revenge. Thir theoretical satisfaction was enough that Ellian did not go through with that scenario.

The blood on his shoulder was hot, his fingers burning where they dipped into Nina's leaking self. It confused him. Her scent had been helped by the temperature. He wondered if Russell had sampled it. Should be an unusual treat for the vampire, that now was truly dead, instead of dead and animated. Nevertheless, Ellian held on to both ladies, climbing the stairs, huffing through his torn face. With some efficiency, he was able to open the door with his foot and close it behind them.

He smiled at Marcy. Half of that expression would be honest, as the edges of the wound was already crawling from the roots of his exposed teeth toward their tips, hoping to sew him together. A constant threat, which, couple with the other, whole side, showed Ellian's nature exactly. Human by some drops, but overwhelmingly beastly behind and beside it. "You have nothing to think of. It was a good bid for intimacy. She just didn't understand." he consoled.

Nina disrobed and let loose a cloud of her blood vapor, which piqued the curiosity of his senses through the brimming adrenaline. He made it known that it was her blood that he shaved off with his rough tongue from his claws as she covered the wounds he'd caused her. How daunting, these two, bleeding from his reckless escape. It would be a bad time to look to satisfy these new interests flaring in him. Ellian ran his hands through his hair, the red swallowed up and thinned as he dragged it along his blackness. Fingers were pristine again when they emerged. "I am sorry about the leather, but not about your skin." She had tasted like a lot of things; people, boiling.

He felt like he knew them both better now.

"You're right." he admitted as the remains of his lips became taut, and the side of teeth stayed ever furious. He inhaled though his nostrils and knew the two men too, before they came out the door further down the hall. He hadn't known they were officers, however, just one by his breath and the other by his cologne. Large. Ellian wouldn't have been here if he didn't kill large. "Gunpowder. Brass." he said as the locked eyes with the mail pair. "To the right."

Then he let loose another roar. He didn't have the same control over the exploding sound as he was used to. Vocal chords intact, he could still produce the volume, but with one cheek missing, he couldn't direct it very well. Fortunate for him, a corridor is directed in its nature. The men would probably draw to threaten or explode that gunpowder, and send metal caps their way. Ellian continued his plan and leaped to his right, inviting the women to follow if they wished.

The wolves had some trouble getting up the stairs after the commotion with the small army of guards. Now they broke down the admittedly strong door where the smell of cat and their leader's liver was strong. They stared down a path, leading to two men in uniform.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #82 on: March 15, 2014, 08:04:17 pm »
Marcy touched her lips to smother a giggle when Nina threw a knife at Ellian and grieved for her jacket. She watched her strip it off and dress her wound. She caught a peek of those claw gashes, punctures really, and wondered if they would match her own. Would they have the same spacing between them? Would the open wounds kiss if they pressed their sides together?

Nina hid them away carefully. She cared about her flesh. Marcy decided to try to remember that. It seemed as though it might be important. She refused to return the things she’d taken. Marcy had not really expected her to agree, even if it was more convenient now. When Nina mentioned the pending return of wolves, Marcy raised her eyebrows. It was hard not to be excited when you were prey. She had never really thought so far as to imagine the wolves would take such offense. It was their fault they thought she had no teeth.

She turned toward Ellian with the intent of saying something. Whatever that had been, was forgotten when she watched his open cheek begin to knit itself together once more. Such quick work. Her mind swirled with the things she could do to a creature like Ellian, the way she could love him without insuring his destruction. Her hands shuddered at the ideas, at the prospect of that freedom, that complete abandon of what little restraint she subscribed to.

Marcy was a rash creature. She was bold and impulsive but she understood that dead things did not come back to play again and that some things, when touched, could never be whole again. Everything came at a price and some things, like Nina, were still more enjoyable the way they were. She knew that if she ever cut the essence eater open she would have to take all of her, she would have to finish what she started and though she longed for that- to fill herself with Nina- it would come with an ending that she still enjoyed skirting rather than arriving at.

She blinked and returned to their scene from her thoughts when the feline spoke of gunpowder. The word was odd in his healing mouth. She looked down the hall at the cops and eeped, already scooting away from the line of fire when the lion roared and guns were drawn. It was lucky for her that she happened to move to the right, toward Nina and an open door. If she didn’t move as well, Marcy would reach for her again and pull her along. She certainly wasn’t going to let Nina die such a dull death as gunfire.

The sound of howling wolves echoed from the other side of the hallway, with the staircase. Marcy would close that heavy door behind them and hope there was an exit or another plan from here, though the idea of being trapped did make her skin tingle. “You know, with this ruckus, the angel might just forget this whole theft business...” She looked at Nina then.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #83 on: March 16, 2014, 05:43:47 am »
He licked her blood, and Nina made sure to make a face. Even if it was her own, she wouldn’t let on that such a thing could be desirable, no matter how hot it was. ‘Well, actually.’ The blood she’d licked from her own had been lukewarm at best. Perhaps hot blood would be tastier, the way cooked meat was better than raw meat. She could give this a try, one day.

The knife missed its target, but Nina wasn’t really bothered by that. As the cloth was wrapped around her, she went to retrieve it from the ground where it had fallen. The lion considered her words of warning about the wolves, before two men came into their presence. Nina glanced at them, giving them little consideration. They were not to her tastes.

The lion couldn’t be subtle to save his life.


‘Right?’

He roared in their faces. They drew their weapons, and Nina felt her hand grabbed. She was dragged along for only the start of Marcy’s run, a bullet fired off to try and catch them, but it failed, striking the door they ran behind. Nina was then able to pick up her own pace and easily keep up with Marcy, but she didn’t release the other woman’s hand.

Nina laughed at the statement she made,
“He won’t forget,” she commented, “But he’ll be wonderfully distracted,” they’d stopped, and so she leaned close to nuzzle the woman’s neck, “Where is lovely Fenton?” She missed the brute being around. It would make things far too easy if she ever wanted to rid the woman of her life.

But it was quite nice, at the same time, that he wasn’t here. She might be too distracted, wondering how he would react to her bolder moves towards his charge. Certainly, Fenton was now aware of how she killed. Any intimacy would have to be stopped by the brute before it got too far. She always wondered if Fenton would simply remove her if she kissed Marcy, or if he’d actually kill her for the action.

Questions for another day, if Fenton was even alive.


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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #84 on: March 16, 2014, 10:51:51 pm »
It wouldn’t be a simple exit stage right.  The cops went into the hall but they were not alone. Gabrielle wasn’t eager to return to his hunt or the ruckus downstairs, but it seemed the party had followed him upstairs.  A roar. The police shouted and started firing their guns. 

Gabrielle took a final gulp of his drink and set the crystal glass on the sideboard.  Arms crossed he stayed in the office watching the action through the open door to the hall.  One police man raised his gun and charged away, running after something that Gabrielle couldn’t see.  The other seemed to be smarter and darted back into the office, closing the door as a barrier behind him.

Through the flimsy wood Gabrielle could hear a wolf howl.  He didn’t have the energy to mock surprise.  Instead he sighed and said, “What about your partner?” The smell of garlic was unlikely to waylay the wolves, but Gabrielle chose not to add that detail.

The officer pushed the flimsy lock on the door and smiled as he heard the thin metallic click.  “He’s been a thorn in my side for awhile.”

Gabrielle could understand.  In the few scant minutes he’d known the man he hadn’t been terribly impressed.  Still, this behavior warranted caution so Gabrielle didn’t pronounce any sort of judgment.  Sounds of wood splintering and additional howls could be heard.  The barrier that separated them from other attackers was weak but Gabrielle would be forced to push past the uniformed man to reach the exit.  The gun now pointed at Gabrielle hinted that would be difficult should he decide to take his chances in the hall.

The officer waved the weapon like a finger, pointing to the chair.  “Take a seat.”

“Why?” Gabrielle asked.

The man didn’t meet his gaze a sure clue that he knew exactly what Gabrielle was.  His tone was no less sharp.  “I said, sit!”

Garlic breath had made a rather poor choice in the moment of adrenalin pumping inaction.  He decided to pursue the blood he saw on the man.  The flash of a knife lodged in the wall his belief that attack was best.  He didn’t make it past the stairwell.  The door flew into his face, knocking him down.  Four wolf men were there to pick up the pieces.  They howled in victory.  A head removed before they realized the face they held in triumph was not the one they sought.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #85 on: March 17, 2014, 06:35:21 pm »
Ellian seemed to make a habit out of protecting these two from wolves. The fact that he was the one attracting the danger to them was lost on him. It would have required a modesty that the situation did not invoke in him. Natural abilities had already allowed him to take in the surroundings and assessing what they might do. He paced in a circle around his company as an explosion of blood billowed out from the other side of the threshold. The pursuers had felled one of the two men.

"This place is poorly built." he complained, gesturing out with his arms angrily, a thin membrane of skin, translucent, covering his now well-known exposed teeth. Then he looked to the wall adjacent the one that hosted their door. It held a painting of a person falling from the clouds. The sentiment was lost on the cat who didn't know much of the current lores and its key characters with burning weapons. Ellian lowered his shoulders as he looked at Marcy and Nina with realization. "Poorly built." he repeated as claws dug into the floor.

He thruster forward, covering the distance between himself and the vertical hindrance within a heartbeat. His forehead was the first to reach and crack the glass protecting the art that hung as a first barrier on the wall. Ill advised to break a potentially solid object with something that contained such sensitive cargo, but Ellian had gambled on his eager. The result was a hollow the size of the lion through the relatively thin material, both the wall and the picture undone by the force Ellian had applied.

"Come!" he said as the wolves seemed to be grasping what had happened, judging by their relative silence. He came into the room again with the same speed as before, leaping to interrupt the first enemy to enter the room. The collision was dull, and since the lion had been braced for it while the wolf had simply been charging, it was the wolf who fell and rolled on the floor. He was gargling through an open throat while Ellian had placed himself hunched between the women and the arrived beasts. He was enjoying a mouthful of fur and attached flesh.

There were only three left. Three were enough to unmake the frame of the door as they followed the first one in. Ellian noted that the leader was not with them as the splinters settled. He found it interesting and it distracted from the discomfort of swallowing down the hair of his latest victim. "We really should leave." he said. A wolf barked at the still hot corpse of his comrade before he set off toward Marcy. When Ellian twisted to catch the javelin body, another bounced off Ellian's back, arching toward the liver eat. "Nina!" the cat roared as he reached, claws out but a lifetime too slow to stop the leaping monster from traveling toward the human. Somehow Nina would have to stop it. Somehow Ellian trusted her to.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #86 on: March 18, 2014, 05:19:53 pm »
Nina asked about Fenton and Marcy looked around the room as though he had just been standing there. She raised her eyebrows in surprise to find him gone, the man that was never there. “What a great question. Close by, I’m sure.” She made a point of walking around the room. It looked like a meeting room. Large table and too many chairs. With her hand she sent one into a tornado while peeking through the window of a door into another office. “Awfully big place for just having the club downstairs, don’t you think?”

She turned to look at Ellian when he commented on the construction of their new cage and kept her eyebrows raised with that endless interest when she looked at the ceiling and floor as well. The start of a grin cracked the corner of her mouth when he started to attack the wall. It was impressive, watching him demolish things. She could destroy things... but it was mostly bodies and glass.

Chaos poured in when he opened a new door and excitement had her taking a step back, had her eyes dilating, had her shoulders shifting. Her side still bled, slow and easy down her side, hidden in the dark colors of her clothes. A wolf lunged for her and Ellian cried for Nina. The sentiment that they were a group, a collective, was endearing. Fangs and fur and hunger leapt for her and the little human beast grinned outright.

Her body slid to the side at the last minute, just enough to slam a bloody hand to the wall and dart for the lion made door. She heard it’s body thud against the wall. It would only take seconds to turn around, to dart after her. She jumped out of the room and into the hallway. Her body hit the wall there and turned, back against it, silver scalpel in hand, eyes large with greed and mouth open for the size of her smile.

The wolf jumped out for her again, but when he left that hole, a body hit it’s side with all the force a bulky human had. A long knife stabbed up and deep into that fur coated chest to carve close to the heart. Marcy followed Fenton quickly. As soon as they hit the ground she was on them. Fenton struggled with the size of the enemy, pulling the knife free just to slice open that throat. Her nimble fingers were already opening it’s abdomen and before that heart had stopped beating, she stood again on wobbling heels with that massive liver in both hands.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #87 on: March 18, 2014, 05:52:59 pm »
‘Certainly, he is.’ Not in sight, though, and Nina wanted to tilt the woman’s chin to her and steal a moment. However, she left her side, their hands parting. The lion was interested in breaking a passage open for them. Nina cast her gaze to the window, looked for one close to a building so she could use it. If necessary, she could always use the window to escape, and use a second building as a tool to keep from breaking her legs on the fall—or the climb.

A chair spun. A wall was broken. Silence from below. Ellian directed them to come, and Nina couldn’t help but wonder when she fell into his good graces, or what game he was up to in leading her and Marcy away. Was it to death? Would it be better to run from him?
‘Can’t leave Marcy.’ No, she couldn’t. She had to stay and do what she could to protect that which she had already deemed as hers.

The wolves entered before she could make her way to the hole in the wall. The lion returned to the main room, and Nina moved to escape the combat, agreeing with Ellian’s sentiment in action. Two seemed to go for Marcy, but one was apparently interested in her. She heard Ellian’s yell and saw the shadow. It was quick—not quicker than her if she tried.

There wasn’t time to try, though. A large paw slapped her across the room. She rolled as she hit the floor, but still found herself trapped beneath the larger creature. The wound the lion had given her was uncovered by that cut, opened further by the claws that had raked her. That side of her jacket was in tatters, and Nina was pissed.

This one would die.

The knife had remained in her hand all this time. She thrust up, a simple motion, into the eye of the wolf, and into the brain. It howled and squirmed as she twisted. Pain made it angry, and it certainly would have ended the weaker woman then if Nina hadn’t quickly lifted herself up enough to close the distance between their lips, or snout in the wolf’s case. It didn’t really matter the shape, for it had closed its lips in finishing its howl. It made the mistake of starting to part its jaws in surprise at the contact, or perhaps to bite.

That bite would never come. The essence flowed from it, stilled it completely.

It was a rush job, and Nina was dissatisfied as the taste lingered on her tongue. She didn’t swallow, but when the creature stopped moving and lost is vital glow, she spat and watched the energy explode against the wall near the wolf who just lost its liver.
“Foul.” Picky. She could have used that essence.

She shoved the dead beast off herself then and sat up, stood up, her mood ruined with her jacket, which she tossed to the floor as now useless, but not before pocketing the money she had stolen in her jeans. The knife would be left in the wolf’s eye this time.

Despite that, when she saw Fenton, she smiled.
"Fenton!" Hand out, "Be a dear and help me." For blood loss was weakening, and she was in pain even though she was hiding it.

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #88 on: March 19, 2014, 05:53:33 pm »
(missed by one minute -- added the last paragraph for flow)

Gabrielle sat as directed.  He wasn’t happy about it, but it seemed logical. His temper was carefully banked and he used the energy to fuel his brain with options even as his body complied with the request.

The noise outside should have been distracting.  To anyone with a reasonable mind it would have, but the officer here didn’t seem to be interested in the sounds of death in the hall.  Gabrielle was used to the hustle and bustle of business.  He didn’t flinch at the obvious impact of bodies being thrust against the wall.

The officer was perhaps more ‘business’ than Gabrielle because he didn’t sit and got right to the point.  “I want some money.”

Gabrielle let his hands rest on the desk.  “Don’t we all.”

“Lots of money.”

A snort. “I don’t have lots of money.”  Gabrielle leaned back in the chair relaxed.  No reason to ask why, the sounds alone explained the special circumstances. “Will you take something else?”

The policeman seemed practical, but greedy all the same.  “Why don’t you open the safe.”  Another gunpoint waving point.  “Maybe I’ll pick.”

Gabrielle rose slowly.  He moved over to the safe as though preparing to give into the request.  When he came next to the man with the gun he took a chance and sidestepped, arm up with enough bodily force to push the man into the wall.  The struggle was minimal, Gabrielle stronger than he looked.

In seconds it was over.  Another body added to the dead count.   He stepped back, unfulfilled as always.  Contrary to popular belief soul reaping wasn’t an eating exercise.  Gabrielle was a banker.  Deposits were always withdrawn.  Now he had to deal with the issues outside.  There simply was too much noise and commotion to be ignored.

He opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

.
« Last Edit: March 19, 2014, 06:37:17 pm by Beau »

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Re: Famine Fever
« Reply #89 on: March 19, 2014, 07:32:30 pm »
How horrific it had been for the lion when he saw Nina flicked across the room by the anger of a giant paw. It had been quite distressful to learn his hope to save Marcy, the very same way you want to preserve food in the fridge, had been squandered. He jerked the body that stuck to his claws to him, exacting revenge on it with two-handed accuracy. It was an efficient shredding, enough to spill some insides out its back and curl its spine in two different directions. At the end of it Ellian was left with a wide open embrace with slabs of dog on each side, most of the dog by his naked feet.

The blood that Nina spilled was soon followed by a suction, as though a vacuum had been created in the room. He felt it. In a puddle of life there would still be vitality, energy, even after the last echo of the heart. There was no such lingering craft now. She had taken it into herself. She smelt like the wolf in a way one creature could not stain another. Ellian pondered why she'd failed to protect Marcy when she'd been so fit for the task. A small, accusing sneer her way. They were both invested in the frailty stolen out the door.

Ellian burst into the scene to watch Fenton do what Fenton does. The beast was massive, even compared to the large human male, but the protector of the small woman was formidable. And Marcy was an opportunist. Ellian learned a lesson there, as the dog was furiously biting at nothing in Fenton's hold, not yet aware that it had been parted with its inward filter, it's blood concentrated fillet. Marcy clung to it proudly when the body started to jerk against the man. It looked too large for her to finish.

So there the lion was, war adrenaline and thoughts of flight contradicting each other in him, both powerful. The titanic torrent of base emotions had him salivating, and that liquid splashed against the still transparent skin trying to regenerate over his teeth. The wolves he had brought were dead. The two and Fenton had been good allies. His heart still felt charcoal dense. Everything was made out out of blood, as it was presented to his knowledge through his nose. His head quavered in frustration and anger as he clenched his white weapons to test the integrity of his jawbone, yellow eyes searing the whites that held them.

Suddenly something broke off the heavy blanket of red. He whipped his head back to draw in the clean, new creature. A thing that wasn't fought, a thing that hadn't yet suffered the knives of the women or the grip of the man. Ellian didn't hesitate at the instinct to go there. A bird has nowhere to fly in a corridor. Inside the ancient mind the original beast warned the feral person that a concept such as Gabrielle would not be punctuated by something as unrefined as a leap from the front, no matter how speedy. Ellian threw himself at the light anyway.

The lion twisted in the air, planting four sets of claws to run on the wall instead. King of his own trajectory, he tore up the wallpaper on the last few giant strides separating him from the bird. The switch of direction in the attack hadn't been all too severe, but it had been a surprise to Ellian, so it must be more so to their dapper host. With a good stomp once he'd reached where Grabrielle stood, large arms encircled the white suit, and the shoulder holding it up. The never hurt cheek split and the one that was trying to heal simply burst, like the walls of a bubble, when the maw of the lion parted.

There would be an eternal moment between them, two fables meeting, rewriting; the Lion offering its ring of beastly thorns and the angel rejecting that terminal halo. And then that lesson at the end of any legend, too veiled for the animal, and too real for the now departed bird. Ellian took the neck from the head. There would be no suck structure anymore. Torso and skull, no connecting, round flesh. He followed the spine through the chest, eating between the shoulders as he pinned the body that couldn't fight, collecting slabs of the floor into his mouth as well in his enraptured frenzy. Fat brows were dense and angry staring at the angelic features that wanted its person back as the lips of the monster with shredded face ate.