▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 25, 2009 17:42:45 GMT -8
6:30 PM.
It was quiet, except for the sound of the pigeons shuffling amongst eachother, picking at what meager rations they could find. It was dark in the alley, but three eyes penetrated the gloom and saw every movement. The pair and a half stared hungrily at each bobbing head, gazing into the sunken beady little eyes that did not gaze back. Suddenly, a trashcan tipped, filling the alley with metallic clangs and the flapping wings of the startled prey as they fleed away from the sound. In a matter of seconds, the birds had gone, but one unlucky enough to make it into the tiny jaws of Fleesh shuddered one last time before lying still on the cold pavement. A trickle of blood spilled from its neck onto the ground. The little feline licked it up and purred with a satisfied gleam in his eye.
"Nice. You're getting better." Vespyr said, stepping out of the shadows with the trashcan lid still in her hand. She sighed and slid her back down the brick wall until she was seated. Her head tipped back and she closed her eyes.
"You can have it, I'm not hungry."
Lie. She was hungry, but she had no appetite. Besides, the cat needed it more than she did. He was almost six months old now, and getting bigger. Vespyr chuckled a little as she listened to him devouring the bird ravenously. What a guy.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 25, 2009 18:02:17 GMT -8
A low whistle echoing throughout the busy streets bounced from wall to wall as it poured from the lips of a masked man. His footsteps light, full of pep and life. His eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for a path and light. He snickered. Light- it was distant, like a flickering candle in a world of dark. Almost non existant, a reflection of a life that passed away. His hands were slick with blood- or so they felt like it. They always felt that way because of who he was and what he did. He picked up on the steps and eyes and smells of those who walked around him, the shoulders touching ever so lightly against his. People who were smart enough to look up looked right back down at the ground, shying away from him as though he was a demon in human form, the antichrist of the ages.
He stopped, suddenly, as a soft crunching noise filled his ears. It was almost like a lullaby, a sweet seranade of pain and life lost, the bones popping under the teeth of a far stronger animal. He took two steps backward, still face forward. His neck caught the feeling of wind on his skin, the dampness to the air that belonged to the world of darkness. His head would turn, ever so slightly, his eyes small points of light in the black abyss. He saw before him a large alley, dim and wretched. He felt another there, one large and one small. He giggled lightly, his day seemingly to only get better and better and better. He turned his body a quarter turn so he faced the alley, taking three steps in without sound. His presence would go unnoticed unless the girl had sixth sense of her own.
He would be right at her feet.
"Hello girl."
His voice was like music- giving water to the thirsty and food to the starving. He looked down at her with a smile that could still the blood of a murderer and make him beg for help and deliverance. His eyes were cold, cruel orbs of evil and malicios intent. He could smell her. He could see the feeble life she held and grasped. He looked at the cat, pleased by its one eye and its ragged demeanor. He loved the blood on its lips- it gave the creature a grand effect.
He looked to the female, eyes judging, weighing.
He was the master, she was the servant.
He waited, deciding to wait and see how this girl would react.
In fear?
Maybe.
He would wait and see.
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 25, 2009 18:27:52 GMT -8
Vespyr's violet eyes opened at the sound of the male's voice, and fell upon a lean figure that loomed over her, a sinister black shape that seemed to seep the shadows that surrounded them. For a moment she was silent, studying the male indifferently. Once upon a time she would have hissed and run. However, something about the tone of his voice stirred something in her that felt... familiar.
"Hello boy." Vespyr replied, still looking up at where his face should have been. But there was just more of the same black darkness. Slowly, silently she rose to her feet, still searching for a face. What the hell was he doing here, anyhow? Not many people ventured past the dimly lit sidewalks. This was not a place for the meek. But perhaps this was a different kind of person who stood before her. If so, she should have been worried. Oddly, she was not. Like she was in some sort of dreamy state. She sat back down, too tired to stand. Her gaze passed to Fleesh for a moment, who had stopped eating and stood rigid with his teeth bared at the mysterious male. Vespyr returned her gaze to their visitor.
"Are you lost or something?" She asked darkly, her gaze becoming stern. She didn't like the way he carried himself. It was intimidating in an alluring way. And she did not like being allured. It was an dispicable feeling, one for the fainthearted.
Vespyr drummed her fingers on the ground, summoning the cat who in an instant was beside her, still glaring hatefully at the male with his one blue-grey eye. He leapt swiftly and perched himself atop her bloodied knee like an amateur gargoyle with its ghastly teeth beared and its shoulders jutting, a macabre figure. Vespyr ran her black claws through his fur soothingly, the loving motions of her body contrasting the gleam in her haunting purple eyes.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 25, 2009 18:42:17 GMT -8
He tilted is head a little. The girl was unafraid. He liked it. He wasn't trying to instill fear in anyone, fear just happened to show up whenever he was around. He looked down at the small ball of fury, raging in defense of its mother. He crouched down, placing his face incredibly close to the cats, no smile on his face now. He just stared into its eyes. He could break its neck with a thought, but didnt. He just looked at it, sitting on the balls of his feet and placing his hands on his knees. He tilted his head a little as he watched, waiting for the cat to scratch him. If it did, snatching at the exposed lips or eyes, he wouldnt move, not even flinch as its claws pierced flesh. If he decided to ravage his face he would just sit there and watch, almost amused as the pain racked his body.
However, if he remained untouched, he would rotate his body so he was face to face with her. His hood, being so far forward, would cast a large shadow, making the mask and his entire face utterly hidden. All except the eyes. A light shone from then, reflecting off into a million points of power as he looked to her. His breath came slowly, easily.
"Are you lost, girl?"
He reached up, slowly, like he was going to grasp her neck.
Instead, his hand would go up to the side of her face as his index ran a clean line down her jawbone. So beautiful. A treasure, to be sure. She had pain, yes, much pain. A life as harsh as his. He saw himself reflected in those eyes, a deep and abiding hunger for pain and...something. Something more- always something more. He leaned in and softly, gently, placed a kiss on her cheek. He would then whisper in her ear.
"You know nothing of the world, girl. I can show you things you have all but dreamed."
His voice was like a low hiss, yet mesmerizing. He spoke like an angel, or a commander of men and women. His voice was likened unto a king yet dark and dangerous, a true pawn of evil and black.
He would lean back, come to his feet and look down at her.
"What is your name?"
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 25, 2009 20:09:29 GMT -8
Vespyr's hand froze as the male crouched before her, tensing her arms, ready to strike viciously with her claws if he dared to touch her precious minion. She willed Fleesh not to make a move, for fear that the male might be angered and attack them both. The tiny animal seemed to pick up on this thought, but hissed menacingly as a warning. His tiny fangs could have easily ripped the stranger's lips into two, shedding blood into the girl's lap-- but they did not, much to Vespyr's relief. There was a moment of silence in which the cat glared at the male, the male glared back, and Vespyr's gaze danced nervously between them. Tension hung in the air like the thick, choking steam in a torrid shower.
All of a sudden, the boy's eyes were locked with hers and she held her breath. She still couldn't see his face-- but his eyes! They seemed to burn into her skull, and she felt lightheaded. A flash of heat ran down her body and she shuddered as he lay his lips on her cheek. When he stood, she stared blankly at the place where his eyes were for a few moments. His serpentine voice still rang like the low note of a bell in her ears, entrancing her. In his words was a promising hint of truth, making Vespyr feel sickeningly dizzy.
Suddenly, anger struck her and immediately she awoke from her trance. The distant gaze fled from her eyes, replaced with fury like the fire that ravenously consumed whole buildings, hospitals with pregnant mothers and children and the old and the sick, all burning to bare bones and screaming all the way to hell. Vespyr leapt swiftly to her feet and attempted to close a hand around the male's throat in an instant, shocking herself with her speed. She would shove him forward violently, so the two were pressed close against the adjacent brick wall, and dig her sharp fingernails into his flesh until five trickles of blood ran down his neck. Her face only inches from his, breathing hard, she hissed through gritted teeth. "I dare you to try that again, asshole."
The femme could have killed him, and was tempted to. She would tighten her grip and feel his trachia collapse in her hand, crunching with a gurgle and a lovely spray of warm blood. He would cough and sputter and suffocate in his own fluid. What a show! She could have, but she didn't.
Instead, Vespyr leaned back slightly and removed her hand from his throat. She brought the guilty claws to her mouth and sucked the blood from her fingers. Her violet eyes were locked onto the other hatefully. She was sick of men and their nasty thoughts, thinking they could commit whatever acts they pleased and get away with it. She never got a chance to 'repay' the last male that kissed her, the same who had wounded her shoulder. But killing this one wouldn't make it better; it wasn't his fault. So why bother?
"I'm Vespyr. Who the fuck are you?" she growled distastefully, seeing no point in names. Names were for friends. Vespyr and Fleesh. Non-friends could refer to her however they pleased-- Girl, lady, psycho bitch... it didn't really matter in the end; if she got to know someone well enough they'd be dead before long.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 26, 2009 16:13:30 GMT -8
Scene stared, totally and utterly aware of her hand rising for his throat. He didnt budge an inch. As she grabbed him and tried to push him into the wall he would steel his legs and make himself immovable. This was not to prove something, but for more of an effect thatn what she had first intended. Rather than lightly scratching the skin, her nails would puncture his neck, blood bubbling and pouring from the wound to be soaked into his sweater. No emmission of pain would come from his lips. Instead, a high pitched yet soft laugh, almost as though he was.... enjoying it? He would tilt his head a little as she threatened him. Once she released his neck he wouldn't try to reach up and cover the wounds- he wouldnt even try and rub the area or clean the blood. He just let it pour from the holes, the grin still on his face.
"You don't intimidate me child. And threats do not give me pause or caution. I am who i am, and i know that." He laughed a little. "Can you say the same for yourself?"
He walked toward her again, staring at her in much the replicated way. His leg would likely become the scratching pole of the small animal, but he wouldnt even flinch. He sighed, thier chests brushing ever so slightly at the deep inhale. She understood nothing. He bent into her, placing his lips VERY close to hers, then spoke.
"Your sick."
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 26, 2009 16:36:50 GMT -8
Fury was boiling the girl's blood as the other moved closer, expecting him to attempt to kiss her again. The only thought angering her more than the boy was that she knew she did not have the strength to resist his actions any longer. To her relief did not kiss her again, but only spoke two words which split ends in her mind and took off like rockets in opposite directions.
"You're sick."
Vespyr couldn't tell if he meant physically or mentally sick, but either way he would have been right. Too correct for comfort.
As Vespyr faced the male, she suddenly was aware of two eerie points of light in her peripheral vision. Her blood became ice-cold and seemed to rush all at once to the bottom of her boots, causing her knees to buckle and her body to pitch forward like a puppet in the hands of an amateur ventriloquist. Vaguely aware of what was happening, she threw her arms out in front of her to break her fall, right hand brushing against the stranger's jacket as it passed. Desperately her fingers attempted to grab a hold of the dark fabric but slipped carelessly along its folds and clutched nothing more than air.
The ground was cold and hard. As Vespyr lie there like a broken toy, her glassy violet orbs seeing only a haunting white that faded slowly to nothing.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 26, 2009 17:02:29 GMT -8
Her eyes widened after he spoke, and though usuaully fear or a likened feeling would bring him joy to see it in anothers eyes, he felt nothing this time. He watched her gaze drift, watched as her body moved and slumped. He didnt try and catch her, he simply watched as she reeled and fell, a slight look of interest on his face. Her body hit the ground with a dull thud, her eyes closing into a deep slumber. He bent slowly, peeling back the top part of the trenchcoat just slightly to see the wound and where it began. He immediately scooped her into his arms, looking down at the cat with a wary eye. He should just leave the little shithead. He mulled it over to himself for a few moments. Finally, he gave a resigned, exasperated breath.
"Come on then."
His voice was curt, and as if in silent respect the cat climbed up his pant leg and rested on his shoulder. It dug in his claws to keep hold, but also in silent warning, as if to let him know if he tried any funny business, he'd claw his way to Scenes heart and eat it for desert. Scene grinned.
"You need not worry, strong one, i will not harm your mistress."
With that, Scene walked through the wall vespyr had been previously sitting against. The world went momentarily black before he appeared in a large room, with an operating table at its center. He gently lay her down so her body was in a nuetral position. He grabbed scissors and thread, as well as two ginormous needles. He took off her coat smoothely, then cut through the corset and peeled it away. Her body was bare before him. He tisked at her lack of undergarmets- not in dissatisfaction at her body, but at the fact that she just plain didnt have one. He looked at her arm, noticing the poor stitching and surmising it was done by her. He took a small piece of cotton, poured something from a bottle onto it, then rubbed the cotton on the wound. This would clean the area and leave no room for further infection through the new opening. He inserted the needle through the third and fourth ribcage, doing the same routine with the other side.
After covering it with bandages (up to just below the armpit so as to cover her nakedness) he began to unstring the black lace and such from her arm. Small trickles of blood came from the wound, so he stuck quick pieces of a preservative on there. Most preservatives would rot the skin away or cause irritation- this one would stem the flow of blood and cause increase in her regenerative "nets". He then stitched the wound tightly and professionaly- now, even if the arm was yanked on, twisted, or slammed around, the stitches would hold fast. He then wrapped her arm just as he did her torso, making sure the medication didnt pass through her body too quickly so as to stop her heart but fast enough to cause serious healing and a total deadening of pain, at least to that area. The infection was still strong, however, and would take at least a few days for her to return to strength.
Some would as why he was helping her when he had killed so many others.
Well, its simple.
She had the same look in her eyes that he used to hold in his.
He turned his back on her and the cat, which was now curled into her lap and purring softly, and began to wash his hands.
She would be wakening any moment.
He couldnt wait.
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 26, 2009 17:45:00 GMT -8
Metal. Metal and blood.
The blood was from her fist, now horribly disfigured and dripping the crimson liquid onto the floor. Yet she still rammed the hand as hard as she could into the metal figure that stood before her.
It laughed. She screamed.
"FUCK YOU!!!!" the girl roared, reeling her wounded fist back for another punch. With all her strength, she aimed the blow right where the thing's face would was. Was. As in, it was no longer there. Vespyr's dripping missle of fury sailed through the air without stopping, causing her to lose her balance. She fell and--
sat up, panting, blinking her eyes rapidly at the shocking change of lighting. The haunting violet eyes were accustomed to darkness; now they squinted, glittering as harsh white light came down on them like an avalanche. Vespyr's hand whipped to cover her face before she was blinded altogether. But to her surprise, the hand was not crushed and mutilated as it was only moments ago; she studied it in awe, forgetting all about the painful brightness.
"Rrroaw?"
Tiny pawsteps made their way across the girl's lap and the cat rubbed his back across her bare midriff. Confused by her sudden lack of clothing, Vespyr looked around. The rest of the room, cast in black shadow in contrast to the solar-like lamp, was barely visible. But the girl could feel the presence of someone else; somewhere, in the darkness, two eyes were looking back at her, perhaps reflecting her curiosity. She quickly recalled the scenario in the alley, and the strange male whose eerie eyes were the last thing she remembered seeing before she blacked out.
"Where are you?" she said coldly, her voice low and smooth, with a similar consistancy as the frigid operating table she sat upon. Her eyes, seeming to forget their anguish, glared into the blackness. Could have been staring right into the other's orbs. Would have sent shivers down his spine, the way the deep violet seemed nearly transparent, hauntingly glassy, in such a bright aura. It was almost unreal the way she looked as she sat stiff with the cat in her lap, her features deathly still, her skin pale as the moon, and her searching eyes emanating what one could only describe as a predatory glint. The femme looked like something that had escaped from Lovecraft's twisted mind.
"I want to see you." I want to hurt you.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 26, 2009 19:03:38 GMT -8
A low tune would come from the shadows as Scene made music by passing air slowly through his vocal cords. He didnt sing, just hummed "row row row your boat" from deep in the darkness. She wouldnt be able to tell where it came from, since his voice came from all around her and bounced along the walls. He walked from the shadows- stopping beside her. He wore a tank top, the left side of his body heavily tattooed with tribal symbols. He wore his mask as usual, and his hands were totally clean. He wore a smile on his face, his clear white teeth shining brightly in the light. He knew by the anger in her voice that she likely planned on hurting him, and it was for this purpose he stepped from the blackness. He hoped and hungered for what he knew would come, though he spoke a warning first.
"Think before you act. You are not yet fully healed. If you want to waste your strength on me, go ahead. I welcome it."
His voice was stoic, yet uplifting and obviously possessive. He kept it under control, making sure that, though it gave her free will, it also instill feelings of longing in her, or would try depending on her resistance to such things. (Current CHA: 60) He leaned forward, pressing his hands to the cold metal on the table and tilting his head to look her square in the eyes. He wasnt afraid of her or her cat, who wouldnt likely be attacking him. Unless it was a little different in the head, its own knowledge would tell it that Scene had helped her. Of course, it was likely that just her showing anger to him would be enough to push the feline into pissed off and defense-tear-out-eyes-with-teeth mode. Either way, he welcomed any chance to feel the sweet relief of fire and flame, of persecution and...well...
AGONY.
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 26, 2009 19:32:20 GMT -8
Vespyr's heart beat faster as the eerie sound filled the room. She felt like she was in some sort of horror film where the killer would step out of the shadows and perform horrible, twisted tests on her feeble body and--
Wait. Healed? Vespyr felt slightly stupid for a few moments, but swallowed it and looked her savior straight in the eye. The male was wearing a mask of some sort that covered his entire face, excluding the expressive areas. Which also happened to be the vulnerable areas. The girl, with a shiver, recalled her dream. The metal man. Her bloodied fist. Good samaritan or not, Vespyr was still infuriated with him for bringing her here; it was almost like sick deja vu for her. This wasn't the first time.
"I guess I should thank you." the femme said curtly, wiping her brow sarcastically, with a faux look of distress on her face. It was her left hand, her good hand, and as she brought it away from her face she clenched it into a fist and growled, "but that's not stopping me from doing this."
The hand whirled fiercely around her body and met the cold iron mask, right between the male's eyes. As Vespyr heard her knuckle crack under the pressure, she knew that he would not be hurt. She hadn't intended it that way, but rather to quench the calling of her dream, she did it because she wanted feel it. She wanted to know he was real and wasn't going to disappear like just another figment of her imagination.
The violet eyes watched intently as her blood dripped across the mask's cold surface. The crimson drops rolled from the forehead to the browline, across the gap that exposed the male's orbs, and continued down his cheek and lips. Vespyr couldn't help but smile. She couldn't even feel the pain. Completely numb. And her blood was proof that he was real. So real.
Oh, the glory of it all.
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 28, 2009 5:57:57 GMT -8
Scene watched without commitance, not even glancing at the hand as it rose. He had given her options, and it was obvious to him that she needed some kind retribution for his seeing her hot naked body. He simple smiled as she pulled it back and let it fly, the sickening crunch of bone on metal sounding in his ears as her knuckle collided with the thick metal at the bridge of his nose. His head was thrown slightly back, Scene nearly sighing as it did so. It seemed a must-have that everyone always test their first punch on his skull. Why? IT IS METAL! He slowly brought his head back down, looking at the crumpled fist with a frown. What a particular waste of strength. He snatched her hand up, and though the speed was exceeding, the gentleness in which he grasped it surprised even himself. He grabbed the bandage off the table as the blood trickled down his face from the impact of her punch. It wasn't his blood, but hers, Scene tisking as he worked. "In your position, that was a particular waste of strength." As he finished the sentence, and reached up fluidly, grabbing her arms and pressing her upper body against the table, so she would be on her back. If she struggled, it wouldnt matter- he had the power needed to hold her there. Not to mention, in her weakened state, it would be like a baby fighting an adult. He would wait until she stopped, or, if she didnt struggle at all, he would start right in, his voice blank as he looked into her eyes. "If i was the type to force myself on a woman, you would be easy prey." He let her go, turning around and flipping on a light. They were in a large room, the cold cement walls surrounding them seeming to be something out of a horror film. He continued speaking. "In your position, you should save every ounce of strength you can. Punching me to release anger, or to make a point does nothing but show immaturity, as well as sap what little you have in energy. Luckily for you -" He paused, looking over his shoulder. -"-I'm not that type." He went back to cleaning his tools, speaking as he did so. "Feel free to get up and move around. Your arm should heal in a week or two, and the infection will be gone before tomorrow afternoon." He didnt tell her his name, instead going silent. The words he spoke were the most words he spoke in any sitting with her. He continued to clean, getting a wet paper towel to wipe te red liquid from his mask. If she looked around, she would find herself in a large building, quite a ways from anywhere. The door from the room would lead her to a large mansion-like home, the rooms gaping with sweeping ceilings and furniture whose comfort was unmatched. Paintings lined the walls, most of death, but some of Scene, in darkness, in light, facing the world. There were a few of the countryside and of several different places, apparently painted by hand, for they all had a small S down and the bottom. If she turned and looked out the large, long window there would massive, snow capped mountains, and green forests. The sunrise would be comin clean through the top of the tree behind the hillside, a flock of birds flying just through the beams and down through a small field to nest. Scene began humming again, waiting for the girl to ask the questions he knew she would ask. Where were they? Did he kidnap her? Or the demands. TAKE ME HOME! He conntinued whistling, waiting for her to pounce. OOC((SOOOO SORRY! I totally fell asleep last night....i posted now though, and it turned out to be longer than my last one i lost! ))
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 28, 2009 10:50:23 GMT -8
The smile faded from Vespyr's face as her doctor bandaged up the bleeding paw, disappointed with the lack of blood flowing from it into her mouth, the savoury metallic taste being craved badly by her at the moment. Fuuucckkkkk. "I actually wasn't.. I just wanted to know that-" she began, but ceased when the stranger began humming again. She sighed, the sound concisely saying ,"nevermind, its pointless to attempt an explanation."
Silently, unnoticed by the male if were not looking in her direction, she sat up, dangled her legs over the edge of the table, and let them touch the ground softly for a moment. Vespyr looked over her shoulder at the male with narrowed violet eyes, assessing him. She had options... but he was right; she was in no condition to be working out her anger or performing her normal daring escapades like... killing and escaping. Vespyr was benched for the rest of the game. As quiet as before, she brought her legs back up and hugged them to her chest momentarily. The pale face had softened and spoke in a disappointed manner of her apparent defeat.
However, this place was too open and uncomfortable for sleeping, which was the most craved thing aside from blood on the femme's mind. Her feet met the floor in an instant and she slipped swiftly off of the cold table. Pausing briefly to let a massive headrush pass before continueing, the cat followed her into a nearby room. Vespyr invited herself to the haven of a very comfortable-looking bed, hoping it wasn't the sleeping place of the stranger whose home she was in. There had to be other bedrooms in such a grand place... right?
Vespyr kicked off her heavy combat boots. She let her body relax finally and lay down on her side, the soft blankets and sheets seeming to envelop her welcomingly. The cat padded fluidly over her outstretched legs and under the tunnel of her arm and nestled below her neck, purring.
The mistake she had made while holed up in the cannibal's mansion could not be repeated or it would most certainly mean death at last... Which, oddly, was the last thing Vespyr wanted. Mainly she was concerned with the kitten's wellbeing, but there were other forces ticking in her head that she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge or explain. With this uneasy thought, the girl slipped into dreamland. A very morbid place it was, as it always was, and would ever be...
|
|
|
Post by Scene on Aug 28, 2009 11:42:27 GMT -8
Scene felt more than saw the girl get up and leave, a sort of resigned feeling coming off her in waves. Scene, unfortunately, wasnt entirely evil, and though this female was no different from other people he had killed on the outside, she had something inside that stayed his hand. He allowed her to take the guest room, a bed whose sheets and blankets he had changed before leaving the mansion that day (He had gut a man who tried to stab him in his sleep for capturing him). He finished wiping off his mask as she lay down to sleep, the young male walking to the room with the stealth born of a life such as he had lived. Even the cat wouldnt stir. He stared at her for a few moments, a frown creasing his face.
He reached out, closing the door silently as he returned to the natural world.
------------Twelve Hours Later-----------
Scene awoke, slightly eyes adjusting to the darkness at a pace natural and comfortable for him. His thought and memory kicked in, and he threw his covers aside. This night, he slept without his mask, a feat which he had never before done and would probably never do again. Still, it was a strangely freeing feeling, having nothing to weigh his head down and not having to worry about rubbing his hair and head the wrong way. He placed his mask back on as usual (not describing how) before he threw on some boxers and jeans and walked into the living room. He wasnt sure if his new...accuaintance was hungry or not, but he was starving. He grabbed some food (eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes) and began to cook.
Once she came out, he would turn, his powerful body tensing slightly before releasing the strain at the sight of her.
He always felt jumpy with females in the house.
"You...hungry?"
|
|
▲
"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
|
Post by Vespyr on Aug 28, 2009 12:46:47 GMT -8
Vespyr had not been sleeping for the past hour, but merely lying in bed staring blankly at the window as thoughts, doubts, daydreams, and the usual ricocheted off of eachother in the dark abyss of her mind. Her eyelids were lazily half-open, the violet orbs looking out from behind them; looking, but not seeing. Her focus was not in the eyes but in the ears, mainly, for in the past hour that she had been conscious she took note of every sound that emanated from the world beyond her chamber. She heard as the inhabitant of the house awoke, pulled on clothing of some sort and began to prepare a meal. She heard him adress her, but made no effort to reply.
The smells drifting into the room were unfamiliar and untantalizing, and her aching body was in no mood to allow movement to investigate. Whatever medicine her doctor had used to numb her arm had worn off long ago, leaving the area with the sensation of being compressed between a hot tire and the ground... The stinging, burning, snd throbbing seemed to spread from the wounded are like a plague and instill pain upon the rest of her body as well. The cat, however, had his own enthusiasm about the aromas emanating from the outside and jumped down from the bed, trotting happily to where the stranger stood cooking and awaited a treat of some sort. One could only have assumed that witnessing the good deeds the male had done for his mistress had instilled a change of heart in the humble beast, or perhaps he was merely using his charming wit to snatch a treat or two before turning savage again. But who could really tell?
Back in the bedroom, still staring out the window, Vespyr contemplated the sunlight. Never had she gone to sleep in the night and awoken after the dawn in all her life; it was always the other way around. When the darkness fell she would arise like a pale ghost, a spirit of vengeance and evil, to wreak havoc upon all she wished to suffer... And when the light of dawn was apparent she would slink back into the shadows to hide from the world. But now, the light filtering in from the window seemed to magnify her defeat.
|
|