Yubel sighed abit, enjoying there banter with one another too much for his own good. Then again, it had been a couple of years since he hung out with someone wasn't related to like this. he could barely hide it, but her was as giddy as a little kid over this.
"I'm sneaking into your room tonight while you sleep. Safety measures." He chuckled, petting Aria's head as he ran into her on his way to the kitchen. "
"Our host is being rude and leaving us all alone in this big mansion. So I think its better if we stick together. Until she gets back! I mean..." He chuckled, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.
”Uhhuh, safety, right.” Aria smiled and rolled her eyes at him as he pet her head, her ears twitching a little under his hand. ”Just to warn you, if you do that there’s a good chance I might mistake you as a burglar and act accordingly.” She jokingly threatens as she follows him back into the kitchen. Aria leans against a nearby counter, watching him.
Armstrong pushed the werewolf off from him and backed up. He then said: "Jesus! I was only asking, chill out!" before whipping out his Python. He was smart to bring in weapons to the bar, he looked at Mark and said "We need to get out of here... I pissed off this dude next to me" he just quickly whipped his wallet out, putting at least five dollars to pay for the beer before dashing out of the bar. He signaled Mark to come with him.
Malice stared with a raised brow as the guy who'd angered the temperamental mutt retreated, leaving quickly with another man from the bar. Well that was anticlimactic. She thought as she headed towards the bar, hoping the Were had settled down or at the very least would follow after the men and I don't know, eat them. She sat back down on the stool she had first started out with. "Just couldn't stay away could'ya?" The bartender flirted as all bartenders did in order to make more money. "What can I say, you're irresistible; now be a good boy and bring me a shot." She laid some money on the bar, slipping him in a nice tip. "Aye aye captain." He gave a low chuckle as his hand swept up the money before he wandered away to do as she'd asked.
With a yawn she set her elbows on the counter, resting her chin between her pressed palms. It was official, she was good and truly bored. Her gaze narrowed as she recalled they had a nice little blood den not too far from here; but she had been doing so well not indulging in the unnecessary. Oh the emotional confliction.
Jeriah watched as the two werewolves disappear into the night as he sat perched in a tree. The Daywalker knew it would be a good spot to corner these two. But the male posed as a more worthy opponent than the female. Unaware of the cameras that Scarlett hooked up around the forest, Jeriah jumped down from his perched and began to follow both werewolves, his katana unsheathed, ready for the worst.
What Armstrong pushed off of him was a large white wolf. Arcain's fangs almost tore into the man's throat before he was pushed away. With a crash, the werewolf collided with a table and that pissed him off even more. Getting up on all fours, the werewolf decided that this human was worthless to kill off.
In a rage, Arcain dashed off out of the bar and ran down the street. All he cared about now was to find Dainelle. He was determined to win her love, but her brother was a major nuisance to him. Coming to a halt at the tree line to the forest, the werewolf sniffed the air. It wasn't too long when he had caught the scent of both of the werewolves. Padding off into the forest, Arcain made his way to where Dainelle and Daniel were located...
"You mean your going to chuck the nearest thing at me?" Yubel teased as he managed to find the kitchen rather easily. He seemed disappointed, wanting an excuse to get lost in her place and see more of it.
When he got to the kitchen he removed his jacket and the braces her wore on his arms and sat them in a chair at the dinning table, then heading to the sink to wash his hands properly. "Hungry?" Yubel asked looking over to Aria with a smile as he shook his hands dry and walked over to the fridge to see what there was to eat.
”Well, I do suppose that seems to be my choice method of defense.” She admits with a smile. As he shed his coat and braces she cocked her head to the side, looking at them with some confusion. She had never seen these before. ”Oh um… yea a sandwich would be fine. Why did you have braces on?” She asked curiously.
A man at six foot in a dark, black trench coat walked huskily down the street. Grey jeans tucked into the top of dark brown boots. Thick boots with thin soles and steel toe-caps. A black turtleneck jumper was under the coat. A cigarette in his mouth, lit with smoke rising up to his eye. Everything about him seemed normal, apart from one small detail.
A blood red color with an amber trim around his cat-like pupil. If talking to him up-close then you would notice that he wasn't human. Earphones styled with flame decals ran from his ears and into the inside pocket of his jacket. A strange top was below his clothes. The turtle-neck must have stopped before his elbow as the silk-like material was visible emerging from his trench coat's rolled up sleeves. His hands in his pocket as he walked down the street. Ever now and then he'd move the cigarette to remove the burnt remains.
He stopped outside of a newspaper stand and picked up a magazine. He tread it very carefully. His red eyes scanning the paper as he exhaled some smoke and pulled a coin from his pocket. He flicked it into the air towards the owner of the stand and rolled the paper up. He then made his way to a large park and sat on the bench. His hands removed from his pockets. One hand pulled out the newspaper as the other removed the cigarette from his mouth tapping the remains onto the ground. His hand went to the bin beside the bench. His eyes darted. "No one's here yet..." He said quietly to himself as he closed his hand and the cigarette was burnt to ash. He re-opened his hand and allowed the wind to carry the ash away.
He grabbed both edges of the newspaper and as there looking at the articles flicking and flipping slowly through each sentence, each column, each page. He rummaged around his other coat pocket and pulled out a marker. A steel cigarette case fell out from his pocket and landed on the floor. He closed the paper with one finger keeping the page and picked it up. Embedded onto the case was a name. It read 'Helion Draconis'. He placed it back into his pocket and re-opened the paper marking down a few columns with the pen. This man was known only as Helion Draconis...