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Post by Samira on Oct 3, 2011 19:00:24 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][cs=2][atrb=style, background-color: #ada7a0; width: 475px; border: 0px solid #ada7a0; padding-top: 8px; padding-bottom:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-left:0px, bTable]pleasure to meet you, prepare to bleed, rise, i'll rise, i'll rise, skinned her alive, ripped her apart, scattered her ashes, buried her heart, rise up above it, high up above it, and see, pray to your god, open your heart, whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark, cover your eyes, the devil's inside, one night of the hunter, one day i will get revenge, one night to remember, one day it will all just - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - end There was something grotesquely beautiful about the wisp of smoke rising under a pale moon. It was very reminiscent of the rise of the demons, when humanity finally met its end. Was it just her, or did the moon seem to be smiling? It was only a crescent, tilted to resemble the grin of the Cheshire cat.
Her gaze followed the trail of smoke to its source. The fire was not one of chaos or destruction. Actually, the fire was nothing more than a source of light and heat for some humans who chose to remain in a city which had been almost abandoned. The few scavengers were safe from the demon observing them, though. Samira wasn't in the mood to kill or torment in such a petty way. She knew that if she had the emotional capacity to, she would have felt pity for the small herd. That wasn't the reason for not killing them, though. Killing those humans felt like killing a couple of flies. Pointless and with little to no satisfaction.
Then again, there wasn't anything else around here to do. She spread her jaws, letting out long yawn. Well, she might as well continue on her way. Clearly the only thing of interest to see was the night sky, and she had seen that plenty of times in her lifetime. She slipped off her perch (which was an abandoned car on the side of the road) and began her stroll along the street. Sa didn't get very far before she caught a peculiar scent. How odd. It seemed to be a vampire-werewolf half breed. So perhaps something intriguing was in this town. Well, at least she hoped so. The dark-skinned demoness took off in the direction of the scent.
An obstacle of a chain-wire fence stood in her path (ha, yeah, big obstacle) and she hopped up to perch herself at the top. There was a figure, she saw, and from what she could tell that figure was the source of the scent. "I smell a half breed," she purred, resting her elbows over her knees as she kept herself crouched on the fence. I'M GONNA BRING HIM TO HIS KNEES tagged ghost words 355 notes i'm sorry ;_; credit mine betch. |
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Ghost
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Post by Ghost on Oct 3, 2011 20:31:59 GMT -6
 Again his feet carried him aimlessly through the streets of a town, the name escaped him. Tonight, he did not feel the need to conceal himself nor his face with his green and black barred hoodie. Instead, he peered down at the cracked and aged sidewalk as he advanced to unknown boundaries.
This place certainly proved to be another dump. Full of ignorant humans, unknowing of the warring races around them it seemed like. It was clear they knew what a werewolf was. Seeing as they froze up whenever Zanga made eye contact with them. Especially the gangs around these parts. Earlier on he had to actually throw some punks around to prove a point. It seems humans were growing a pair around these parts. And Zanga wasn't taking a liking to it. He was use to people moving aside without him having to utter a word.
His emerald eyes scanned the area in front of him, it seemed the street stretched on a little longer and ended with a dead end and a forested area behind. How long had he been walking? It seemed only a few minutes, though he was actually walking for hours. The moon always clouded his head and made it impossible for him to focus on one thing for long. Its glazed light, creeping over everything. The way it shined and loomed over head all night. Mesmerizing. To him, the moon was comfort when Muk wasn't around to keep him company with her chatter.
The feet under him could go forever and ever, but his mind was tired and he needed to take a moment to gather himself. Finding a bench in a nearby secluded area, he planted himself on it. Zanga exuded a gentle sigh, and ran a hand through his green streaked, black hair. The night was still young, perhaps something interesting would happen tonight. [/size] |
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Post by Samira on Oct 4, 2011 19:26:09 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][cs=2][atrb=style, background-color: #ada7a0; width: 475px; border: 0px solid #ada7a0; padding-top: 8px; padding-bottom:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-left:0px, bTable]pleasure to meet you, prepare to bleed, rise, i'll rise, i'll rise, skinned her alive, ripped her apart, scattered her ashes, buried her heart, rise up above it, high up above it, and see, pray to your god, open your heart, whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark, cover your eyes, the devil's inside, one night of the hunter, one day i will get revenge, one night to remember, one day it will all just - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - end For a couple seconds she waited to see what the halfling would do. He moved to a bench and sat down. Was that all? Was he not aware of her presence? She chuckled softly, "Not the most perceptive creature." Perhaps this would provide her with more amusement than she expected.
The demonness shifted her position, balancing on the balls of her feet on the fence and leaning forward slightly. Her leg muscles tightened before she thrust off the fence, seemingly vanishing into the air before she landed on a dark street lamp near the bench he sat on. She dropped to sit on the street light, her legs dangling over lazily. He was very odd looking, even for his lineage. Plus he seemed like the type who preferred solitude. Then again, that wasn't rare for half breeds. While she wasn't prejudiced, she found enjoyment in prejudice. Or rather, how most responded to it. Hopefully this one wouldn't disappoint.
"You're rather oblivious, aren't you? I realize halflings aren't the brightest creatures, but aren't you supposed to have good instincts?" Samira tilted her head to the side, surveying him with her one good eye. He seemed rather young, perhaps just entering adulthood. She wondered if he had the short temper that most youths had. It would be entertaining to find out, she hoped. There was always the chance she had run across the type who took hits (verbal and physical) without so much as blinking. They were rare, but typically boring. With the exception of Lateef, but she did not think she would ever meet anyone as intriguing as him. Even so, she hoped this halfling brought her some amusement. I'M GONNA BRING HIM TO HIS KNEES tagged ghost words 276 notes i'm sorry ;_; credit mine betch. |
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Ghost
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Post by Ghost on Oct 4, 2011 20:03:43 GMT -6
There was a gathering feeling within his mind. The feeling of being watched. And it made him extremely uncomfortable. Had he been so dwelved into his thoughts that he did not remember to keep a watch on his surroundings? That instant he loathed the moon for doing this to him. For casting him into the depths of his own mind and forbidding him to focus on anything but his own thoughts. His eyes scanned the area and he listened for anything suspicious. But there was someone there, yes, certainly.
Just then the sound of a female voice forced its way into his mind. "You're rather oblivious, aren't you? I realize halflings aren't the brightest creatures, but aren't you supposed to have good instincts?", he looked up atop a street lamp from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn his head completely. However he still got a good look at her. Right away the scent of death fought its way into his nose. She was a demon, alright.
"Sorry if Im not use to people stalking me at night.", he growled, already irritated at her taunting. If only Muk were here to do all the sass talking. He had no patience, seeing as the moon was nearing its full shape and he became increasingly irritable with everything. Think teen angst. To the extreme.
Zanga sighed through his nose, unintentionally emitting a tiny growl from the back of his throat. "What do you want?" he growled, intentional this time. He made it clear in his voice and scowl that he wasn't for any shit tonight. Especially from some cocky demoness that wasn't The Morrigan. Tonight was not his night. He was already cranky, he can't focus for the life of him, and now this. A demon wants to poke fun at him. And from the looks of it she saw her fair share of battles. He had too, but with petty street gangs who decided they wanted to push him around.
[/size] Notes: [/color] Oh that sucked balls Tagged:[/color] Samira Credit:[/color]Malone z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=4934 [/center] |
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