Vampire Huntings., Stay Alive.

Leaves flustered beneath the burden of solid black combat boots with laces hoary, and this sound the only present moreover Lyric’s subtle breathing. The sky was darkening to a purpled asphyxiating gray one gets when strangled to death, lost in all black eternity of their miserable life. But his lion fur colored eyes revealed nothing in caring for the changing light or would it for the dying. He continued on his self made promenade though through his boots and feet he could feel the times people had once walked down this very same path. Why had it decided to be abandoned? Was there an explanation powerful enough that would stir fear in Lyric’s gut?

Crows then stirred at the deep steps closing in on the territory they had claimed over the many years. Lyric’s neck never jerked to view them, his hard eyes kept on the goal straightforward. For now the goal was simple: arrive at some location that was different from the last, survive in its conditions, move on and then do it all again. Overall and in deep truth, he felt that his life had no meaning; he had naught to offer or to obtain. Life came too easy for him and death too hard to accomplish. And yet Lyric didn’t believe death was too hard, rather overrated. He abhorred being made a fool and death would indisputably make him a fool. He would not reduce to a victim of death or to the life of a fool once lived.

The leaves settled once the combat boots touched cold ground. They themselves could not tell if it was cold, but not anything warm every felt so unsympathetic and unbreakable. Taking steps forward as the beating of wings through the air echoed in the skies, Lyric’s booted feet scraped and thudded down on the soil. What he saw then on top this land was desolate and besmirched with animal droppings and remnants of an angry fire. The nostrils of his strong flat nose twitched at the potency of the burning wood still amidst. This must’ve been what drew the birds of death towards this place. But like him they knew they’d find no food. The fire had even turned this bone yard into nothing imperative but ash.

And yet like him they knew that aimless fools would wander to this place and die from greed, grief or gratitude to accept their death. But unlike the birds Lyric knew he was here for none of their reasons. He ceased motion once he drew close enough to an incredibly small house still on its dying buttress. But keyword: dying. Lyric scrapped at the earth with the ball of his right foot in front of the small homage and then kicked forward. Dust flew and the sound was an exasperated sigh. Even in death and in a non-animate object, it was hateful. Lyric focused his eyes through the smoke that rose and stirred the distant crows to holler in laughter as if it was they who set the village on fire.

But Lyric noted something odd about this unusually small hut and the fact that it was still standing and how it had once been painted in ash. He looked across at the other huts and homes and the bones scattered. Nothing else was left standing but they were all painted in ash. It was too perfectly done. Mother Nature was a wonder but not this wonderful. This fire was unnatural, set by an evil entity walking among the other living. And just as effortless as the cause was found, the effect was simpler. Case closed. Lyric was pleased with himself to have solved this short mystery but more unconsciously concerned about finishing the evil entity’s work with disgracing the dead.

Lyric walked straight through this yard of ash. His black boots graying with the burnt bodies of the dead as his weight even cracked a few of the un-cracked bones that were too stubborn to burn or to break until now. As he drew further and further from this place, the calls of the crows were after him, laughing for him to return as others stylishly asked him to investigate for survivors. But he wasn’t falling for those tricks, not now, not ever. He would never be made a fool as those who were nothing more but ash and polluting the soil with their unusable remains. Not even the crows wanted them.

Crimson sat under one of the large trees near the village's outskirts. His hand was over his mouth and nose, the smell of burnt wood and flesh mingled and lingered in the air. He didn't enjoy the smell, especially with his heightened sences. "Maybe this wasn't such a great idea..." He thought aloud. He had his fill as usual, but just like every other time the smell was almost intolerable. He didn't bother trying to leave the sent anymore, it always seemed that no matter how far he went, he would still breathe it in.

He was aware of the male walking through the ashen graves of the ones he had left behind. He was slightly curious to who was passing by, but would rather stay where he was. As to not disturb the sent that still lingered. Hearing the footsteps through the bones and ashes, and the sent of live human flesh, left him uninterested. He had his fill... no more hunting tonight. Only a rare blood would attract him now. He lifted his mech arm to inspect it once more, it had been damaged in tonight's little incident, not badly, however enough to limit it's movement slightly. He had been careless.

Looking to the sky, he wished for sun in this lonely place. With no one around he could live in the sun, and his constantly cold skin served him no comfort when the days were gray.

This post has been edited by Haseo on Sep 17 2007, 02:46 PM

Coughing clouded from the young female's mouth as she placed a hand on her chest, her legs slowly pulling herself forward threw the small fog of the burning fumes. Closing her eyes, she ducked her head down and tried to remain calm, and breathing. Without any notice, her body gave in and she fell to her knees. Catching herself with gloved hands, she let out a loud groan as her blood spilled to the ground, as well as continuing to gag on the unwelcome air. She knew what it smelt like, and judging from the brightness that floated into the cloud of smoke, Sin also knew what it was. A fire. Opening her eyes, she raised her head to look forward up the slight hill.

Falling onto her stomach, she breathed in the clean air, her coughs dying down into heavy breathing as she lay there, now pressing one of her hands to the wound on her waist. Rolling onto her side, she rested her head on her other arm and closed her eyes again. So, this how it was then? Stuck on the side of a hill, badly wounded and gasping for breath. Wonderful situation... Pulling herself to her feet, she took to the rest of the hill easy, not walking to fast, but not to slow as well. Her hand still firmly pressed to her waist as she walked, holding back a groan here and there as she did.

If someone looked closely at her, they would see but a normal stranger, traveler some would think. But to others, others with a skilled and trained eye, would know that she was nothing but a simple traveler or stranger. An Assassin, though she killed not for money. But merely for the fun and pleasure of it. Her victims blood stains her hands and her weapons, stains her eyes with the pleasurable, demonic glare. Though, she didn't just kill anyone.

Reaching to the top, she dropped to her knees, holding her arm slightly to her body still. Gasping again for air because of how much blood she really was losing, and from the fire's wild cloud. Before she fell forward unconscious, she noticed a being. He was tall, and slender. Surely he didn't belong around here. His image threw it's self into her mind before she slipped, her eyes closing. As she lay there, almost motionless, slight drips of blood fell from her to the dirt path.



ooc; I left it open for either of you. First come, first serve, I suppose.

A new sent flooded Crimson's sences, the sent of fresh blood. Not just any blood either, a rare female's blood. The smell of his surroundings no longer bothered him as he stood and moved silently towards the two in the area. They were close to eachother, the female must be injured, or the smell wouldn't be so strong. His silent movement, even with his seven-foot claymore sword, allowed for a good vantage point behind some of the new ruins of the village. He watched and listened silently, the smell of her blood was very attractive. Running his tongue over his gleaming teeth, hunched into a position ready to move quickly if he needed.

This post has been edited by Haseo on Sep 17 2007, 02:46 PM

Unexpectedly the crows exploded in to animation owing to their expected satisfaction; their taunts thus continued to echo throughout this burnt yard of death. They encircled a specific area Lyric noted as he had been curious enough to take a glance. But his glance assimilated to an ogle. There wasn’t a great deal to think about on this event. And so Lyric only studied the birds a small while, already knowing what they saw and smelt. He could not see or smell it himself but knew what a bird of death and deceit wanted: fresh meat.

Nevertheless the birds fluttered away from a particular area somewhat close to where they were excited, as if something hungrier resided there. Lyric next noted that whether he liked it or not, he would be caught in the middle of this unfolding event regardless of his direction. He knew this for a number of reasons. First being that he wanted to see what caused this downfall of the village, and secondly because he wanted to know whether or not he could survive it. He knew that crows didn’t fly away from things that were less threatening then themselves.

Lyric turned his body around, his combat boots shuffling at the hard soil under him. He then moved forward, a steady pulse reflecting his steps…

When he neared the place of the crows, he saw in the distance a blonde headed being. His facial expression remained unchanged. Even as the crows landed and poked at the limp body. Lyric wasn’t concerned over this though and if he were a crow he would do the same. Even if a cannibal, he’d do the same. He turned his head towards where the birds fluttered away from and marked that area as the definite residence of that certain entity. He then picked up a rock about the size of his palm exactly. Tossing it in the air to himself in one hand, he aimed and threw it at the woman. He knew this much because no man he knew was ever that small and so clumsy as to fall down that steep mark of land.

The rock bounces on the floor first before it can even reach her but the dust flies and the crows back away for a while. They search for the one who has disturbed them and if they can, they will feed on him as well. Lyric stays his distance, not wanting the wounded one to think him some savior, if the wounded one is even still conscious. Seeing that it is not, he shakes his head, visibly annoyed now. But he waits, and just keeps the crows away from fully consuming her. He wants to encounter the dangerous entity still in hiding, or so Lyric believes because he cannot pinpoint its location.

An extremely pleased smirk spread gently across Crimson's face, realizing that the male was a strong observer of his surroundings. This made things more interesting, although the male didn't know Crimson's exact location; he figured it was better not to be guessed out. Carefully watching the male's eyes, Crimson waited for the moment to move. He also paid close attention to the birds that flocked the area. Seeing his chance he disappeared, making sure to move swifter and more gracefully than he had before. Although grace was his second nature, animals were much more aware to his presence. However, this time they did not take note his movement.

Something made him stop in his deathly quiet strides. He was standing approximately thirty to forty feet behind the male now, watching curiously. The male wasn't helping her... Why? That made no sense to him, until... Crimson almost laughed, he himself could hear the female's heart still beating from where he was. But... surely he could see the rise and fall of her slender body as she took her shallow breaths. He watched for few more seconds until he realized that he was exposed. Oh well... his thoughts were confused now. The male wasn't helping the dying female, and didn't seem to have a purpose in this area. Of course the one question that constantly plagued his mind came to the surface once again... Why?...

This post has been edited by Haseo on Sep 17 2007, 02:47 PM

They had always heard stories about the huts....

“No-I’m not scared.” Her tone was deeply offended, making Kanna laugh,


....They didn't go there; it wasn't a natural place...

“I just don’t want to go stomping around a muddy old graveyard when there isn’t even a path—you know my scenes of direction, Kanna.” It was the truth, or at least part of it. She could definitely see herself getting lost but as much as she didn’t want to admit it the place had always freaked her out.

“Oh come ooon! Don’t be silly!” Kanna snorted. “It will be fun, plus it hasn’t rained for two days!” She grabbed Alex’s pale fingers in her coppery hands and pulled her clumsily off the path and into the soft grass. Alex had to catch herself on Kanna’s shoulder to keep from tumbling over as balance failed her. She steadied herself and pressed a palm against her forehead, feeling dizzy.

“Ah, sh!t. I feel like I was hit by a bus.” Kanna laughed at Alex’s whining and shook her head,

“You know if you were more outgoing you might have a boy friend." She nudged her forward as she kicked off her high-heeled shoes, size 6’s. Alex knew this because she had always wished her feet were that tiny. “Its better if we get back home as soon as possible right? You said so yourself.” It was hard to argue with Kanna’s logic and so before she even knew it, Alex had already passed the wrought iron gate that had sunk into the mud and collapsed long ago.

It was a tangled mess of unkempt briers, black things that coiled and stretched up into arrow point spikes at their peeks. The way the midnight moon cast silver shadows across the unmanicured lawn was distinctly eerie. Morning mist had already begun to settle in the lower dips of the land. The scraggly scalps of each hill looked like islands swollen up from the invisible waters and grave markers stretched like fingers from the milky depths, stabbing the inky sky. The ground wasn’t as sodden as it had appeared from the path. In fact, it was quite solid beneath Alex’s tennis shoes.

Loach Wood didn’t seem as creepy when you were walking through it instead of looking at it from a distance. It was much more ‘normal’ if you could call any graveyard normal. When looking, she could see tiny flecks in the granite gravestones sparkle in the moon’s ivory glow. Even the vines of mist that snaked around her ankles seemed to make the place strangely calm. In spite of herself Alex could feel a magic here, but it wasn’t the sort of magic her mother had been talking about. The final resting place of all mortals, it was a dismal though and yet it was hard to overlook the fact that such an inescapable end really humbled a person. Alex had forgotten that she could be humbled. Now, as she walked steadily, keeping one foot in front of the other to avoid a falling incident, she began to feel more and more intone with this place. Even drunk she had a brilliant imagination. Jammie had always said so. She could trick herself into hearing whispers on the gentle breeze, completing the enchantment.

. “This is the kind of cold that tells you your inside some sort of horror movie or something, “ she continued, “You know where the defenseless girls lost in the cemetery are suddenly murdered by some dark figure.“ Alex snapped out of her daze, rolling her eyes as she cut her best friend off “and their bodies are hacked up, bound in electrical tape and then tossed into an empty unmarked grave…yes…Kanna, thank you we have all seen those sorts of movies. She felt a bit bitter at having her personal day dream interrupted. Kanna made a disgruntled noise from a little ways behind her,
“Jesus, you’re so weird.” She accused. Alex ignored her. She shrugged and pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. Kanna made a wrinkle in her nose and chuckled softly, a high pitched bell of a laugh.

Alex couldn’t stand that laugh. She quickly blocked out the grating sound and leaned down to try and read the engravings on a particularly well sculpted stone. The surface was smooth as glass beneath her curious fingers as she ran a hand over the final words. The color was a chalky gray, sort of like shale only much more solid. She let herself trail fingertips over the curved crown and then back down the face again. In a dark, morbid sort of way it was very beautiful.

“Ew, Alex! That’s gross! Someone’s dead under there!” She put extra emphasis on the word 'dead' and scowled at her friend with unmasked disgust.

“Cynthia Caburn” Alex mumbled, tone expressionless as she read the name of the deceased. This was the first time she had ever been in what her little town called Loach Wood, a series of grave yards and abandoned huts that had been the ring of legends since before Alex was even born. Now, drunk and dizzied, it hardly seemed like it was unnatural at all.


(Hello Everyone ^^ )

(Hello Hassima)

The sent of more helpless human flesh drifted to him, two of them. He mused at how much humans were attracted to danger, whether they were conscious of the fact or not. Another sent came with the two new humans, he could smell the alcohol on their breath. Crimson turned up his nose to this; he didn't care for the smell of what they were drinking. He knew they were too far away, it would be too much trouble to go all the way to the village graveyard - that he had left untouched in respect for the dead - and receive his dinner. They would be easy prey, but their sent didn't interest him at the moment.

Crimson had turned back to the two immediately before him, wondering if he should make his move. He could hear a growling sound, very similar to the one he made when hunting. It took him a moment to realize it actually was himself that was growling, and now slowly circling around his new prey. He realized his body was moving almost on its own will, the smell of the female's blood was extremely attractive, seductive even, to his thirst. The same pleased smirk spread across Crimson’s face, he would take her somewhere the sent of the massacred village could not interrupt his feast.

"Perhaps the graveyard..." He spoke his thoughts aloud, as he often did. Then in his mind another pleasing thought came, the look on the two human girls' faces when they see him feasting on another human's blood.

This post has been edited by Haseo on Sep 17 2007, 02:47 PM

Sin's body, now being beaten by the slight pecks of the hungry crows, twitched slightly as a small groan left her throat. Sharpe eyes slowly opened to peer to the side where she lay, unable to really move, to say anything... to even think clearly. It was like being in a coma, apart from the fact that she was slightly there and could almost move and see. Biting her tongue slightly, she moved fast to turn herself onto her back. The crows that were surrounding her became startled and jumped within the air, pulling them selves to hover over the female's body. Their black eyes glared down towards her, as well as the few rocks around her body that had been thrown moments ago.

A cry now left the female's mouth, her eyes clenching as she moved her one arm to her side. Her hand now coated with her blood, she glanced down to it. When she had fallen, small bone pieces and wooden strips had sunk into the wound, though that was the least of her problems. Surrounded by hungry crows, bleeding to death, and possibly a sprained ankle. What a lovely combination. Taking in deeper breaths now, she closed her eyes again and relaxed her head, allowing it to fall beside her as she laid there, slowly her chest moved up and down, breathing carelessly.


---

ooc; Sorry for the short post. Writers block has struck me again... Gr.

Hello ^^;

Five entities all drew closer together, one a high threat, two of which were laid back, one whom was useless and another who was categorized unknown. The sagging gray sky twisted and churned, rumbling flashes of gold streams which sighed impatiently. Lyric down below ceased his aiming game once the feminine body stirred and cried out. How did this female receive her injuries? How did that growling beast draw nearer without Lyric’s knowing? How did those two drunkards stumble towards this aloof ground? The sky wept slowly, the birds rattled their wing in protest. What was about to unfold would be greater than the oncoming storm. The sky bellowed in agreement.

((Rush delivery, enjoy.))

This post has been edited by Azamuku on Sep 16 2007, 09:11 PM

ooc; Are you done with your reply, or no?

The smell of the rain was sweet in Crimson's nostrils, he enjoyed the rain, this would make his feast extreamly pleasurable. He strode silently past the male in front of him, ignoring his presence, and placed a hand over the female wounds. Crimson healed her wounds quickly, so he could resist the thirst untill he reached the gaveyard, and so her blood wouldn't stain his pure white cloak.

Lifting her casually off the ground and placing her over his soulder, he strode towads the gaveyard, his heavy boots and other equipment making no sound as he moved, even with the added weight. "You're going to taste wonderful," he merely whispered the words, again his thoughts reaching his tongue.

Sin gasped gently within the crisp air, the rain hitting her small frame. her blond hair wrapped around her neck slightly as it grew wet. A loud cough fell form her lips as Crimson healed her wounds, her breathing slowly picking back up to a normal pace, though Sin was still a little bit wiry. Her body was light to carry, Crimson's actions unaware by the female. Hearing his voice was as if a dream, it was slightly blurry within her mind.

Kanna gasped, wrenching her face skyward in shock as the cry of a women peeled like a bell through the silence. "Oh my god...Kanna, I just heard a ghost--no shitting I’m serious. What the fuck was that?" Kanna panicked, her demur broken for a moment. Alex was ignoring her

“Cynthia Caburn.” Alex mumbled tone expressionless as she read the name of the deceased.

“ALEX! I'm being serious---Holy cow! She was born in 1783!” Kanna gasped, suddenly growing interested.

“Wasn’t that the year the revolutionary war ended?” Alex asked, not really expecting an answer. She knew it was. Alex felt her breath catch in her throat. “There can’t be anything older than this here. Incredible.” Kanna flitted to the tombstone beside Cynthia’s

“Cyprus Caburn…1780.” Alex’s eyes flashed and the two looked up at each other. After a moment of eye to eye contact they both broke out into a grin and darted for the nearest grave stone both trying to find the oldest dates they could,

“1872!” Kanna yelled.

“1799!” Alex rebutted. The game went on for well over ten minutes before the drunkenness wore off enough for them to realize that they where running around a grave yard at 1:45 in the morning.

Kanna stumbled towards a tall pillar like tomb catching herself on its marble edge as her legs gave out from beneath her.

“Damn it! I can’t see straight,” she moaned, sagging a bit. Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. After a moment, she made her way towards her.

“Come on Kanna-let’s get home before we both kill ourselves,” she joked, sidling up beside the sickened blond just in time to see her begin to heave, face a picture of pallid agony. In one quick movement she turned away, covering her nose and mouth and squinting her eyes. Alex hated seeing, smelling, or hearing people get sick.

Kanna made a weak groaning sound, sliding down the side of the grave and onto all fours the sound of her hacking making Alex’s whole body feel weak.

“Uggh, Kanna…I can’t,” she managed as all color drained from her face leaving her parchment white and a little green beneath the eyes. She tried to gather herself enough to escape before she got ill, as well. Desperately, she lurched forward, her feet dragging sluggishly and her stomach churning. She grabbed hold of the nearest tomb stone ‘Cynthia’s’—simply refusing to fall. The world spun around her and every step took more effort than she had much stamina to give. However, it seemed like hours before she finally collapsed, drunk, sick, and exhausted from the side effects of both. Alex curled her body like a cat against the unnatural cold that was now beginning to penetrate the very marrow of her bones. The magic was lost—drained away all in one gut wrenching moment. She wanted to stand up, to keep moving and get as far away from her vomiting friend as possible but her body wouldn’t respond. She was vaguely aware of her head against something solid, but the only thing that she could concentrate on was “don’t get sick…don’t throw up...” She begged her stomach to behave, panting against what was obviously a tombstone. She was also semi-aware of that fact but it seemed insignificant compared to how willfully she pleaded with herself to relax. It was silly to get worked up over a little puke.
She yanked herself through a thicket of brambles and that was when she noticed them, the figures she had been approaching without noticing at all in the slightest. With a hand covering her mouth she looked that them, falling at the feet of one, a man, her whole world dizzy and unsteady.

Alex pushed herself up with shaky arms, pressing her flushed cheek against the faded letters of some unrecognized name. The icy contact made her sigh with relief. She didn’t know how long she’d lain there, but after what felt like ages her thoughts began to grow more coherent. The first and most immediate was “I need to get up. I can’t pass out in a graveyard!” She could just imagine the look on Jammie’s face if she knew that she had used a gravestone as an ice pack to cool her face. Alex flinched at the mere thought “and what about Kanna?” That was the second thought to pop into her head, “had she already passed out?” the thought of Kanna lying in a pile of vomit on top of some grave made Alex’s body convulse.


This post has been edited by Haseo on Sep 18 2007, 06:03 PM

(Hello there not so lovable prickly emo teddy Crimson ^__^)