Shades of Grey ~ A Literate Modern Fantasy (OPEN)

[Ciel of the Light]

A Literate Roleplay created by Corrinne Sorenthaine, x_Talon_x, and Slyfo.

Original 'Shades of Grey' credited to Arkyron.



Open

It is the nature of humans to ignore what is too difficult to believe. This is fact, or this need for the telling of the ancient battles would not exist. Even before the time of worldwide religion that spread the knowledge of demons across the earth, they stalked and hunted man for the pleasure of it alone. They were monsters, beasts of nightmares. There was once a time when they ran rampant and slaughtered all in their paths. You can thank all of the heavens that it is also human nature to survive. In the presence of this great threat, heroes emerged from the lowly humans. They fought back despite the odds, and in return, the heavens granted them the power to be victorious. Be it magic or the human heart itself, the demons were fought back and eventually lost their place as the higher power on Earth. Humans prevailed, and so the recording of our history began.

Those ancient battles were lost in history to be replaced by myths. These were fashioned to protect young minds from unadulterated fear, so it was forgotten that such demons ever existed. The memory of the heroes of old died with the Shadows of Lament. Time passed and civilizations grew. And though memory can be erased with time and effort, the presence of the monsters in the night would never be.

The demons still exist, and they prowl to destroy all remnants of the heroes that once tore them from their seats of power. Under the guise of unsolved murders and the fluctuation of missing persons, the demons prowl the planet to feed their desires. The violence within the cities has been attributed to the various gangs, and as it has been for centuries, the demon activity has been ignored for what is more easily understood. They hunt the innocent, and seek those descendants of heroes that are called Adepts today. Humans have learned to ignore the constant murder for the comfort of ignorance. It is by heaven's will itself that there are those blessed people that still remember and seek out those with the gifts. It is their only hope to destroy the demons and protect society from what it ignores. These wise men and women are called the Onyx Shades, and although they lack the power to fight and kill the Shadows of Lament, they wield the determination and knowledge to find those Adepts of power and open their eyes. The Onyx Shades and Adepts meet, even under our noses today, and with their binding of souls they battle against the demons that threaten us all.

Even with the battles between the good and the evil, there is no place for light and dark. Black and white. There are shades of grey in between that paint the picture of your future. Your destinies. Be you the unknowing Adept or a Demon of the night, you have a place in the unwritten history of the Shades that will forever affect the lives of millions.


-~-~-~-~-~In-Character Thread-~-~-~-~-~Out of Character Thread-~-~-~-~-~Profile Thread-~-~-~-~-~

[Ciel of the Light]

• THE BASICS
  ~ Talon, Slyfo, and I will maintain leadership throughout the roleplay.
  ~ Read through all of this first page.
  ~ We are extremely opposed to godmodding and the like.
  ~ Follow the Gaian TOS.
  ~ Use your best judgment concerning Romance and Violence.
  
  
• TIME
  ~ The leaders of the RP control time of day and weather.
  ~ Occasionally we will use timeskips to keep the flow of the roleplay easy and smooth.
  
  
• LITERACY
  ~ This role play is for Literate roleplayers.
  ~ Posts must be well written and contribute to the story.
  ~ There is no word minimum or maximum. We care more for the content of a post than how many words are in it. Please refer to This Thread for an example of acceptable posts and character interaction.
  
  
• PROFILES
  ~We are no longer accepting new roleplayers or characters.
  ~ You may create more than one character.
  ~ Please send all Onyx Shade profiles to x_Talon_x by private message. Send all Adept profiles to Slyfo. Send all Shadows of Lament and Shadowed characters to me, Corrinne Sorenthaine.
  ~ When you send your character profile, please also include a link to some samples of your roleplaying ability.
  ~ Character interaction is one of the most important aspects of roleplaying. We will not tolerate loners.
  
  
• ACTIVITY
  ~ You should be posting regularly in the main roleplaying thread. You will be approached by one of us if we feel your posts are lacking. This will lead to your character being killed off/erased if you can't maintain a decent pace with your posting.
  ~ You must participate in the Out Of Character thread. Your activity there is JUST AS IMPORTANT as your activity in the In Character thread. There, we will discuss things such as time of day, weather, and time skips in the roleplay.
  ~ The leaders of this RP have the right to control inactive roleplayer's characters.
  
  
• FINALLY...
  ~ Have fun.
  ~ I reserve the right to add more rules if needed.
  ~ Please message any of us with questions, or join us in the OOC thread.

[Ciel of the Light]

We are no longer accepting new roleplayers or characters.

These are the playable characters that you can choose from for your profile skeleton:

The Onyx Shades:
Normal humans; trained in various fighting styles and in the use of various weapons in order to better serve as protectors to their assigned adepts. Backed by a faceless, nameless, world-wide organization to which they belong, the Shades are a mysterious group dedicated to destroying the Shadows of Lament and all those who aid them.

The Adepts:
Humans bound to their respective Onyx Shades and blessed with powers that would put them on equal terms with the Shadows of Lament, they are the ones destined to rid the world of the demons lurking among us for good.

Shadows of Lament:
Demons; their reasons, causes, and methods vary, but all of them have one thing in common: finding and slaying any Adepts they can get their hands on.

The Shadowed:
Humans who have aligned themselves with the Shadows of Lament for various reasons, they are the counterpart to the Onyx Shades and serve to help the Shadows locate and destroy any Adepts that cross their paths.

You may also choose to play normal humans that are not classified as any of the above.


Please fill out this profile skeleton and send the completed version in a private message. Check the Rules section for details on mailing these:

Your Character Picture: ((Please send a link. We will add a custom banner for your character including this picture when we add it to the Profile Thread. Please do not complain if we edit the image.))

Your Character's Full Name:


[list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][list][size=15][img]http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm179/cielofthelight/BasicInformationIMG-1.jpg[/img][/size][/list]
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[i][color=#ad0000]Role: [/i][/color] ((Usually three words representing your character in the roleplay. Think of how you would refer to someone in a movie when you can't remember their name. You would refer to them by their role. The Dark Knight. The White Priestess. etc. etc.))

[i][color=#ad0000]Age: [/i][/color] ((Self Explanatory))

[i][color=#ad0000]Appearance: [/i][/color] ((Aside from your picture, what does your character look like? What color eyes, hair, etc. do they have? How tall are they? What kind of clothing do they wear? Do they have signature body gestures?))

[i][color=#ad0000]Personality: [/i][/color] ((Self Explanatory))

[i][color=#ad0000]Likes/Dislikes: [/i][/color] ((Paragraph form please))

[i][color=#ad0000]Skills/Powers: [/i][/color] ((This should also be in paragraph form. Only adepts and Shadows of Lament can have powers. Onyx Shades may be very skilled physically in battle, but not magically.))

[i][color=#ad0000]Bound Onyx Shade/Adept: [/i][/color] ((Do you have a preferred Adept/Onyx Shade you would like to pair with? If so, write here. If not, leave blank and we will assign you a partner. First come, first serve.))

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((Biography/History here))

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[img]http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm179/cielofthelight/AestheticsIMG-1.jpg[/img][/size][/list][size=11]

[i][color=#ad0000]Artwork Created By: [/i][/color] ((Give credit to those who drew/painted/etc. the picture of your character. If you don't know the source, post the link to the website you retrieved it from.))


[i][color=#ad0000]Profile Inspired By: [/i][/color] ((How did you come up with your character? Do you have any theme songs or additional pictures? Post them in link form here.))

[i][color=#ad0000]Profile Created By : [/i][/color]((Your Gaian Name here))[/size][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list]

[Ciel of the Light]

Meh. Just Meh.

[Ciel of the Light]

Behind the Name:
A godsend to roleplayers who can't think of a fitting name for their characters. Go to this link and click on 'Random Renamer'. Behindthename allows you to choose the origin of your character's name (Irish, English, German, etc.) and will generate names for you to choose from. Just refresh the page for new names.

MyTheme Image Editor:
You can make some post formatting graphics easily and for free on MyTheme with its text editor. You can make nice looking text to decorate your posts, or you can use this website to edit images. Photobucket is also a good resource for image editing.

Bishibooru:
I understand that it is sometimes very hard to find pictures for male characters. This website graciously offers a large database of pictures, mostly anime, that are ALL men. Simply type in a search term and wallah.

ShuuShuu:
This website is very similar to Bishibooru, except it offers nothing but female pictures. Again, it is mostly anime and you can search for pictures via many search terms. For example, you can type in 'braid, feather, green eyes' and it will search for ALL pictures on the site that has girls with these traits. Bishibooru works the same way. Enjoy!

[Ciel of the Light]

⊰

The Shadow Hunter

⊱

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I .a m ..w i t h.. y o u..f o r e v e r ,.. t h e ..e n d.......

Above, New York lights of man outshined the stars of God. The night air still carried the warmth of the summer day, its winds bringing just enough breeze to fight off sweat and exhaustion. Even so, the people of Earth hustled under the false nighttime sky. In this night, like in all nights, there would be those who were blissful happy and ignorant. They boasted of normalcy, of the every day excitement and dullness of the human life. There would be those who could not claim happiness so easily, and so they struggled to find food and shelter. Others pledged to know all things of the world and commanded it with their riches. These people glittered on the sidewalks with their handsome faces and expensive clothes, standing out from the common ramble, inspiring in others the wish for money to fix all things. This place of opportunity and enrichment harbored such an expansive populace—The people were different, each from one another. And yet, among them walked those who would be overlooked for their outward normalcy. No one would notice the determined look about their eyes or the rush with which they carried themselves. No one would sense the insurmountable burdens on their shoulders. One such man was overlooked as he chased his own demons, and his name was Flynn Morrigan.

His shoulders were hunched and ridged, his fists in his pockets as he pushed through the crowd of people surrounding him. His green eyes glittered murder as they glanced up from the messy waves of dark hair about his face. Sheathed at his side was a sword of black and crimson—and it was meant for only one tonight. The woman was there, just up ahead. He could tell her apart from the others by the absurd color of blue she wore and the whiteness of her teeth as she smiled lies to others. Flynn would take her life tonight, or die trying. His heart pounded against his chest as he came closer and closer.

Her laughter heralded out, causing him to wince in disgust. What a whore, he thought, as she ran ahead to catch up with a man to wrap her arm around his waist. The man responded by reaching down to set a hand on her a**. Her blonde hair whispered across her back, catching the wind, and Flynn could almost smell the stench of hell off her. He had seen this play out time and time again on these godforsaken streets. She would lure the man into one of the countless dark alleys and play games with his whims and temptations. By the end of her games he would be dead, and she would have her fill blood. This time, Flynn swore, would be different. This time the b***h would die.

“Patrick, Dearest. Don't you trust me?” Her voice was angelic, hypnotic. The poor b*****d wouldn't have a chance. Flynn couldn't hear the man's reply, but watched as the woman grabbed him seductively by his collar and nearly dragged him into the darkness of the closest empty alley. Casually, Flynn walked past it, giving the alley only a slight glance. He saw nothing and no one, and suddenly the hairs on his neck stood on end. Something wasn't right...

His trained ears heard the unmistakable sound of flesh being torn and blood being spilled. She hadn't even allowed the poor soul to scream... Flynn's sword sang from its sheath as he bolted into the alleyway. The further in he went, the darker it became. Finally, Flynn paused as he saw the dim glow of eyes just ten feet away. The woman had transformed to her true form. This was a Shadow of Lament licking its chops at the Onyx Shade without an Adept. “You come alone?” she hissed, her voice rough and just barely audible.

“What is your name?” he asked, and he watched hesitantly as the demoness slowly approached him, her bulky form nearly slithering across the ground, merging with the darkness around her. He grabbed at her curiosity, and a deep smile stretched across her ugly face.

“I am Justina. And you are Flynn. I've heard tales of your...adventures as of late. For one without a charge, you have been formidable to my kind. Quite the pain in the arse, honestly.”

Flynn grunted in reply. “Then you know that you won't walk away from this alley alive.”

The cackling laughter of the demon was like the low, sickening growl of a hound. “Oh no, Dear Flynn. I will feast on the blood of a Shade tonight and...”

His sword slashed out, catching the beast in her eye. He'd heard this spiel a thousand times before. The Shadow buckled back and swiped out at him with a large, black talon. Flynn threw himself back, his eyes bulging as the talon's blade just barely skimmed his shirt. The demon bristled and shot itself away. Its body melded with the darkness, and in his mind, he could hear the screams of hundreds...

“Tremble...” Flynn jumped, hearing the demon's voice resounding above the screams in his head. “For you listen to the future of your kind. Your efforts are for naught, Shade. You are a failure... You and those like you will perish under the power of the Shadows...” It was manipulation. Pure manipulation, Flynn told himself. He shook his head, and his eyes peered into the darkness, searching for the she-demon. She would not twist his mind as she had the other poor fool that had followed her here.

Where did she... There! Flynn saw as a cloud of darkness shifted in the distance. With a single movement he threw forward his sword and grinned as it met flesh. From his side he withdrew a pistol, and began to fire. Her eyes were now red like the hell she had come from, and he dodged as she saw them flying toward him. He saw the gleam of his sword protruding from her flesh as she passed, and he flipped so that his hands gripped the hilt. Pulling it from her flesh, his pistol dropped to the ground and he swung around to slit her throat. Inside his head, the screams grew louder, nearly piercing his eardrums like daggers. He cried out in pain, but slashed at the Shadow again to draw more blood. She came hurtling for him, and under her immense weight he fell unforgivably to the cold ground. He wheezed as she fell upon him, her teeth gnashing above his head. Suddenly she froze, her demonic eyes growing wide as moons. Flynn yelled out as he twisted the sword into her stomach. With his feet he threw her dead body aside, and laid on the ground to wait for her body to decompose before his eyes.

And still, as her body became rotten flesh and bone, Flynn laid on the ground to avert his eyes to the false night sky. A breeze carried through the bloody alley way to brush up against the decay, and when the demoness became dust, it carried away her remains and left Flynn Morrigan alone and mourning. She was not the one he had been looking for. The name Justina meant nothing to him... She was the wrong demon! Anger spouted and flared, and was quickly followed by his shame. What she had said was true: He was a failure. And so his search for his Adept, Charlotte, would continue. He would find the true demon Hakha that had haunted her so long ago. So long as she survived, he would search....




I lost myself, we all fall down
Never the wiser of what I've become
Alone I stand, a broken man

I won't turn my back on you
Take my hand, drag me down
If you fall then I will too
I can't save what's left of you

I can't face the dark without you
I can't find my way to you
And I can't bear to face the truth

Don't leave me here again
I am with you forever, the end

[TheHarlequinGhost]

Moira Lachesis

There was always something unpleasant about the loudness of New York. It was like living inside of a clock. The gears never stopped turning and crashing together to create a symphony of productivity. It never, ever stopped. It was alarming how many creatures fell out of sync with these cogs and were crushed and lost in the darkness of the city's underground. Not only insects lost their lives to the beating feet of the higher classes. The homeless and drug addled human vermin found themselves living among her kind. Moira found herself feeling pity for them before anyone else. It was sad that she had to drive them out of that dark tunnel. But they were not her kin, they would not follow her commands and she could not take in every creature without a home. The kindness would not be extended back to her if she ever needed it. The collapsed subway tunnel was hers now... she lived there with her children. She used to live there with her one true love... but he was gone now.

Moira's thin fingers caressed the side of a skull and her mouth turned into a little pout. Her quiet mousey voice rose into the darkness. "It wasn't fair... he was perfect. He shouldn't have tried to run like that. I didn't have a choice. Did I?" Looking up sadly, the echo of millions of tiny feet scrambling to and fro was the only response she received. With a soft sigh she hugged the skull to her chest and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry Brandon... I will never love again. I simply can't go on without you! Why did you try to leave me!?" A train passed by overhead and rattled the forgotten tunnel. It seemed to surprise the girl and the sound of bones rattling against each other and collapsing from a much larger pile filled the air. A choked sob followed and then footsteps. "I have to take a walk... Goodbye my love." Giving the skull a small kiss on the forehead she set it down against the wall. It was easy for her to see in the pitch black tunnel... it was easy for her to place Brandon's skull right next to all the others. Her poor Princes... they had been so unlucky. Wiping her eyes she sniffled and picked up her yarn basket. The next sound echoing through the tunnel was small footsteps as she made the trip back up onto the streets. It sometimes seemed it was quieter out there than down below it all. Right now she needed something to take her mind off her recent loss. Anything would do.

Composing herself a little she climbed the ladder leading up to a manhole that opened out into an alley. She pulled herself into the bright New York night and squinted against the lights. It was as bad as daytime out here. Sliding the manhole cover back into place she sniffled again. That sniffle turned into an actual sniff and then she stopped the air reeked of blood. Demonic blood. Her eyes widened slightly as she pushed some long hair over her shoulder. Someone else had died? Looking at her basket she suddenly realized that maybe it wasn't too late.

Moira stepped out onto the street. It was hard for her to blend in most of the time. But in New York she was just another face in the crowd. She was still taller than most girls... her thin frame and long hair was only made more strange by her light hair and skin. She wasn't terribly pretty, she had a quiet cuteness about her. Most demoness' tried to be as seducing as possible. That in itself was a sign that something was wrong. A butterfly has bright wings to scare things away... a spider's web is next to invisible just to draw people in. Most demoness' were also terribly stupid though... it was just the way things were.

Sliding into the crowd Moira pulled her sweater sleeves over her hands and adjusted her basket so it was resting in her elbow joint. Wiping one last tear away from her face she tried not to think of the man that had recently died in her arms. His perfect smile... and the way he looked when he cried... his soft brown curls and his strong arms. He had been so afraid, she wasn't sure of what. Perhaps the responsibility of being a King? Poor thing... he died so suddenly. She hadn't expected him to break so easily. At least her children got to eat... they had been begging her for weeks. Shaking her head Moira couldn't bear to think of it anymore. It hadn't been anyone's fault... he would rest in peace now. He was the lucky one. She was the one doomed to never love again. Doomed to spend eternity in mourning.

[Slyfo]

There was something to speeding along a nearly empty road in New York. The depths of night had already declined to the hour of rare life, a time in the night where it was rare to see anybody around without some purpose. It was a dangerous time of night in this city, though as of lately any time would be just as dangerous in this damned place. In spite of the warm weather that made its presence quite known over the past few weeks, the chill of the air was made tenfold, now speeding through the streets. It wouldn’t be so bad if he hadn’t lost his damn hat for the umpteenth time. Those things were becoming more expensive than his smoking habit. Darian’s teeth grit with a familiar withdrawal. He hadn’t smoked that day, and god-damn he needed it.

At least he had Robyn now with her arms wrapped tight around him, her body heat more than enough to keep him from shivering. He wasn’t exactly dressed for high-speed travel on a motorbike, but the events more or less fell into place. A lot had already happened to him up to this point; chasing after an unsuspecting girl, knocking her over and taking her home… and best of all, learning that his suspicions of her being an Adept were not only right, but was made painfully obvious by her house being razed, the insides having been upturned and disheveled by their combined efforts to ultimately destroy her first Demon. She had performed amazingly, especially considering that she was fresh, and had no clue what she was doing. Whatever, it made his job easier and he wasn’t about to complain. The sooner she could take care of herself, the sooner he wouldn’t have to feel like he was babysitting anymore, and he would actually have a partner. The chill raised again, the wind fluttering his hair wildly. It calmed every few moments when they had to slow, although he made it a point not to. He had already ran a few red lights, of the few that weren’t blinking yield in the majority of the crosswalks, and he was likely to continue doing just that until he felt comfortable enough away from the grisly scene they had vacated not too long ago.

The city had long lost his interest, its glowing lights and massive advertisements seeming like copies and clones, all originality having beaten its dead horse for centuries. The people trudging along the sidewalks were just shadows, people who may or may not have futures or emotions. Darian had to hand it to the place though, however boring the place seemed to get there would always be people that kept this city alive. It would seem, though that it was hard to discern them from the assholes. His lips cracked into a sly grin as they whipped around what he decided was going to be their last corner before jumping off and finding a place to stay for the night. He wasn’t sure if Robyn would be able to sleep, things such as this would come traumatic to anyone else. It was then that a sense of guilt was sent through him like knives, drawing his thoughts away from the meaningless and mundane city life to Robyn: a girl who was, up until now, going through her life like any other adult and living carefree knowing that she may one day have it made. Have a family. Have a normal life. She was doomed now, considering a demon not only blew up her home but also she was to stick with him. This meant doing it again, and again. Learning, training, fighting… this was the life, the future she was going to have now. His guilt was overshadowing his mood, and he wanted nothing more than to lie in a bed and go over his own thoughts for a while. He needed a smoke.

The halt of the bike was followed by his knocking the kick stand into place and gently helping the injured Robyn off of it. He cooed for her to be careful, where normally he wouldn’t bother. He figured that he needed to be kinder to her than any other person, not only because she would be stuck with him for a while, but also because he had a lot to make up for next to his past he already had with her. “Be gentle on yourself, and don’t worry about putting any weight on me. I think I can handle you just fine.” His eyes shifted up at the ‘Motel’ sign that had lost its neon glow in the o and half of the M. A cheap place, but it was a closer walk than anywhere else. He mussed his hair with his off hand, attempting to straighten it out enough to be presentable. With his other, he gently wrapped his arm around Robyn, setting her down on the curb. “Lean into me, I’ll find us a place, okay?”

They hobbled together up to the entrance of the place, the obvious odor of dust overlaying all other ominous fumes of the outdoors. The door he pushed open was cracked with abuse, splintering heavily in several directions and groaned obnoxiously in having been swung open by Darian’s gloved hand. The place was not very spacious, and was even less inviting. A lone, flickering light hovered above, swinging lightly in the ghost breeze the room had drafted, sending thick shadows sprawling in all directions. Apart from the beaten staircase on their immediate right, nothing else in the room caught his eye besides the out of place granite of the front desk. Behind the counter, an older woman was chewing on a toothpick, either watching the monitors of the place for suspicious behavior or, more likely because of the sounds of talking and laughing beneath heavy white-noise, watching sitcoms or soaps to pass the time along. Their attention was given a lazy look over from her sleep-deprived eyes, the shadows underneath them making it look as though she were almost angry. Instead, after clearing her throat from the lack of speaking that night, and with a surprisingly optimistic tone, she leaned up and rolled her chair to the counter, awaiting both Darian and Robyn’s approach.

“How can I help you, stranger?” Darian was impressed by her voice. It was clear that she had seen better days, but she had a sweet voice that was still full of enthusiasm and kindness for her visitors. That was much more than he could say for any of the other places he had ever stayed. “Can I get you two a room for the night?” She sniffed the air, and it was then Darian realized that, even though they had cruised through the night, they had also just left a burning building and smelled of char and cinder. He leaned unconsciously on his heels, hoping to keep her suspicions low, in case news was already spreading.
“Yes, a room. What are the rates on-“
“There are no other rooms to compare them to, sorry sweetheart.” How long had it been since someone called him that? He couldn’t even remember his own mother saying that to him. “We have one room vacant at the moment, 3rd floor: one bed and bath with a balcony. We can do 53 a night, as long as you don’t damage the room or smoke inside.” She smiled curtly, her job coming to her as naturally as a conversation.

Darian had the means to afford a night or two at the rate she gave. It would be plenty enough time for him to figure out what to do. Besides, he was sure that he wasn’t going to sleep that night, and looking for another place would be too much of a strain on Robyn.
“That sounds great. We may not stay more than one night, so here’s the money up front.” He pulled out his wallet by the chain leading into his back pocket. Opening up the crusted leather bi-fold, he pulled out sixty dollars in twenties, motioning for her to keep any change. After placing the money down on her desk, the woman swung a pair of keys into Darian’s hand muttering a final “302” before turning back around to watch the small tube television behind the desk.
“Enjoy your night. Stairs are right there; sorry the elevator is out of service.” She glanced apologetically at Robyn, noticing the limp she had when they turned.
“Thank you.” He nodded before motioning to Robyn to take his arm. He half-carried her up the three dark flights, floor two having eerie flickering bulbs that left him unsettled and moving faster. Upon reaching their room, he jiggled the key into the handle having to twist it several times before an audible CLICK chimed his success. Pushing this door open it led into their dark room, his hand searching the walls for the light. He found it after a brief moment of confusion, flicking it up and watching the room illuminate. It would have to do for now.

[Ciel of the Light]

⊰ The Synergist ⊱

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Her life was either over or she was beginning an adventure of a lifetime. As she clung to Darian on the back of the motorcycle, the events leading up to now tumbled over and over in her head. There had been people—or she supposed the were demons—that had been stalking her, attacking her, for the better part of a week. With every time that she escaped, the ball of fear inside her chest grew until it had taken control of her. She hadn't been sleeping, and had been piling in comfort foods like her a** cheeks wouldn't expand to the size of basketballs as a result. Her electric bill would have been outrageous... She didn't remember flipping a single light switch off once last week. Everything had been blazing to fight away the darkness. And not one criminal in all of New York would have had a chance at housebreaking. Her house—what had once been her house—had been fortified. Robyn had felt safer with those precautions. She had never expected that someone would come in the middle of the day when her guard was down. That is exactly what happened, and she partially blamed the man in her arms.

Only hours ago, Robyn had left a coffee shop and headed home. Paranoia had her in its grips, and she'd been too distracted with looking for her stalkers to avoid getting her a** thrown out into the street as Darian had plummeted into her. Part of her still raged for the complete rudeness that he'd responded to her with. Still, he had helped her home and hinted that today would be the last day of her life. He'd told her that they were destined for each other—or something to that effect. There'd been nothing romantic about it, but it still put Robyn on the edge. They reached her house and to her dismay at the time, he followed her in. Wounded, tired, and angry, Robin had retreated to her bedroom and called the cops, expecting them to come in enough time to escort Darian out of her house and out of her life forever. Fate had a different plan, however, when a man waltzed through the front door with a dreamy smile on his handsome face. His eyes were murderous, and had not looked away from Robyn.

He attacked, and shot by Darian, changed into a monster that would haunt Robyn for the rest of her life. In fear for Darian's life and her own, she rushed forward to help, and found that it was what she was born for. The demon had been of fire, and when she attacked herself, she took its abilities into her self and fought it back. She burned the b*****d back to hell, but at the cost of her entire house going up in flames. Distantly, Robyn could still hear the police sirens in her ears as they had retreated. How would they have explained what went on in that house? As far as she was concerned, anyone she ever knew was better off thinking her dead. It didn't seem like there would be any room in her life for friends, or even acquaintances. Still, Darian had not explained what exactly happened back there. She wasn't sure if she looked forward to his explanation or dreaded hearing it. Inevitably though, it would come. All she could do was wait.

They finally came to a stop, and Robyn allowed Darian to help her off the bike. She wobbled a bit as she walked. The pain in her hip was still fresh and sore from her first run-in with Darian. And it wasn't to mention that a 200lb demon fell atop her at the house.

“Lean into me, I’ll find us a place, okay?”

He was being way too nice. A completely different attitude from the one he had with her when they met. Darian helped walk her into the cheap motel and she remained silent as he talked to the woman at the desk about a room. With keys in hand, Darian finally turned to find their room. Robyn immediately grimaced at the stairs. It was a painful walk up, and she felt that Darian carried her more than she walked herself. As she was thoroughly embarrassed and annoyed, they finally found room '302.'

She didn't even bother to take note of the shitiness of the motel room before she limped forward to nearly collapse on the single bed. All she could think about in the moment was resting her tired and sore body. For a while she turned away from Darian, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room, not paying attention to what he did. However, Robyn couldn't hide behind her silence forever. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Darian?” God... Her voice... She sounded so worn out. “Tell me what the ******** happened to me today.”

[Slyfo]

In lieu of the decrepit sign out front, the accommodations weren’t all too bad. The room featured a five step radius from the center, which was spacious for a one bed room. The bathroom was connected to the wall on their immediate left, which just about a step into the room before peeling back to reveal the bed, in its entire half-broken and oddly stained majesty. He shrugged, maybe it he was just too slow to judge. The carpeting was a thin and dull brown, blackened in spots from spilling drinks and food. It probably cost them a fortune to clean each of these rooms periodically, he couldn’t imagine them being able to do much more than replace everything rather than get the stains out. Straight ahead was a tawny window, and a step to the right was the door leading to the balcony. It overshadowed the building next to them, being able to see just overtop the smokestacks and revealing trace amounts of lights from the city. There was a T.V. on a worn desk on the wall facing the foot of the bed for ease of night-time watching. He thought nothing of it, television being one of those things he had no time or interest for. Besides that, the room was as empty as he would have expected, and there was a lot of room to move around.

Robyn, having had the most annoyed expression the entirety of their voyage upstairs, gimped inside and threw herself at the bed. A loud crack from the springs and a cacophony of creaking ensued for a couple seconds until the bed finally settled. Darian was indifferent to her taking the bed; he had a few things to do before resting anyways. He was more surprised that she was able to just lie down and not cry or freak out. That’s what girls were supposed to do, right? Robyn was no ordinary girl that was for sure, and he assumed it was her adept-imbued strength that kept her from simply breaking down. He shut the door behind him, locking both the deadbolt and the knob-lock and checking both before wandering over to the balcony rise. Unlocking this door, he opened it wide, stealing the chair from outside and setting it against the wall, between the door and the window. The air was still warm and the noise outside was dulled by the building beside them, he doubted too much that Robyn would mind it being open anyways. Pulling out a pack of Camel cigarettes and a lighter, he lit it up in his mouth, puffing a couple times too maintain the light, then taking a full drag of it and releasing the smoke to the side facing the door. He felt the familiar surge of warm sensation prickle his arms as his hair raised. He coughed once abruptly, clearing his throat and flicking the ashes to the concrete just outside. He could already feel his muscles relaxing, which was something he had been looking forward to since he first bumped into Robyn.

She spoke up, her voice half-muffled from the cloth of the pillow her face was buried in.
“Darian? Tell me what the ******** happened to me today.” She was blunt about it, which was a relief. He shifted uncomfortably, the thought of explaining this situation was one on the list of many things he was going to think about tonight. It was only fair that she got a sort of explanation, though he wasn’t exactly the best at talking. He took enough drag, talking as he breathed it out.
”You’re going to have to bear with me, this could get long winded.” He frowned slightly, and then sighed, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head as a cushion against the wall. “A long time ago, there were demons that roamed the world and called this Earth their home. I don’t know how they came to be, but for the longest time humans could not handle themselves against their power.” His eyes shifted out the window next to him, his gaze searching for something besides the night sky that bled into his vision. Long story short, we were on the verge of extinction. People would pray to god to help them, and they would be slaughtered the next night. We had no chance. After a while, men and women began to stand up, and they fought instead of running. These people were said to have been blessed by god himself, having given them the power to fight the Shadows of Lament and ultimately destroy them” A smile parted his lips, and he shook his head lightly before turning his gaze towards Robyn. ”We call these people the Adepts, children of god that were blessed with the mission to destroy the Shadows of Lament. Back then, they were just given the power, had to learn it on their own. Nowadays, we don’t have that luxury. There are those with the bloodline of these Adepts in society, blending in much like the rest of the world, a lot of untapped potential. Other than the occasional power misfire, or the feeling that someone was watching you, they would be oblivious to what they were.” He stopped to gauge her reaction, he knew this was a lot to take in, so he took his time, playing off the cigarette he lifted to his lips again.

“See, I was brought into an organization called the Onyx Shades, not that I ever met another Shade in my life. I was trained to be your protector; well, not yours specifically, although that seems how it turned out. I was put through some pretty rigorous training, and given a lot of knowledge on Auras and unlocking the potential of the Adept.” He snuffed at the thought, his parents had been lacking in explaining that bit to him. ”I honestly think I would not have believed it myself had it not been for a bunch of lesser demons practically ripping me to shreds. That’s a story for another time, though.” He coughed to show his distaste with the subject, shifting in his seat again. The last of his cigarette burnt out, touching the filter. He stood, stepping silently to the door, dropping the butt on the ground and stamping it out. He sat back down quickly, pulling out another and lighting again. He breathed in sharply before starting again. “When I said before I had no choice, it was because I knew you were different, and I had my suspicions on you being an Adept. I would have walked my a** away from you in any other case. Because of that, it was my duty to keep you safe and I was not about to let you out of my sight for anything. I should have sensed us being followed though; I guess I was too focused on you. Besides, your aura is chokingly strong.” He pointed his glowing smoke at her. ”If we want to avoid what happened today in the future, that’s going to be the first thing we practice.” He sat back again, dragging and flicking from a sort of habitual monotony. He opened his arms wide and invitational. “I’m here to answer your questions, so if you have any let them rip. Otherwise, I would suggest getting some rest. We begin training tomorrow.”

[Dao Ma]

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ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: streets of NY
ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: a lovely little lady~
ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: thoughts/feelings
I-I WORK OUT~♥: mood music n/a

Ah, a warm night in New York. What wasn't there to love about the busy streets, the overly bright lights, the annoying noise of car horns and the immense about of crowded areas? Well that seemed like a bad thing for a lot of people, but for one man in particular, it was a pretty safe place. You could blend into plain sight and it would be a nice game of Where's Waldo. Even with a bright red and white striped shirt, Waldo could hide in the most obvious areas and for a good amount of time couldn't be found. That's how Aisander Severin D. liked to be. Lost in plain sight. Even with his long golden hair, he was hard to pinpoint. Perfect for an assassin.

Shedding his black leather gloves, he stuffed them into his messenger bag as he walked away from a large building. Up in the penthouse, there would be a nice little surprise for the maids to find in the morning. By nice, it was an assassination. But little, there were pieces of the guy hidden in different drawers. He didn't like the means of how he did his job, but unfortunately it was specified. He hated messy jobs. Not because of the gore or because of what he saw, but rather it just took up time. Time that he could be using to doing to that very special diner that had those very special waffles.

Reaching up, Aisander pulled at a red ribbon that held his long golden locks up and out of his face. His hair fell as he pulled the string along and finally out of his hair. He quickly ran fingers through his hair before tying the ribbon around his wrist. With a small sigh, he continued to walk out into the city-lit night. Thumbs slipped into his front pockets, she continued to take in the city air. How long had he been living in New York? Only for a few months now. He had lived all over the world. One of his most recent stops prior to NY was France. How interesting that was. But then again, he only got to enjoy so much of France before he had to go back to work. The life of an assassin was a busy one. Who knew so many people wanted others dead for such petty reasons.

As he walked, he looked out ahead, making sure that he looked as inconspicuous as possible. He always did a pretty good job at it, seeing as he never actually got caught. There was one time where he was given wrong information, and coincidentally someone happened to walk in on him having a nice little chat with one of his targets. That didn't end well for the guy that walked in and his target. No bueno. Soon Aisander came to his location of interest. He stopped in front of a darkened diner. Unfortunately it had closed a few hours ago. Aisander's default smile faltered as he pressed a hand against the door, not pushing, but just to rest, as if caressing it.

"My sweet, sweet, delicious waffles..." He said with a sigh. "Tomorrow morning we shall reunite along with that rich maple syrup and I will embrace in your savory flavors! Tomorrow I will dine like a king and you shall be my delicious queen!" Dramatic, yes. But that was Aisander's way of saying he was going to get waffles tomorrow.

Just as he turned to leave, his hair was whipped around in the breeze and in that moment, he lost track of what was before him. Taking a step forward while brushing his hair out of the way, he bumped into something. He looked to find he had bumped into a young woman. Rather, knocked her over. "I'm sorry!" He called out as he held out a hand to her. "I didn't see you there! Here, let me help you up." From the looks of her, she was cute. Very cute. Not overly gorgeous or gushing with cuteness, but she had an air about her.....An air....Aisander couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was about her, but there was something off. He never thought about having a sixth sense, but he had joked around about having one. He couldn't tell if it was a good or bad feeling. Maybe he was still feeling the edge of his most recent hit. He would be cautious though.
#A63535
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxɪ'ᴍ sᴇxʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ

[TheHarlequinGhost]

I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I'll always be by your side
I just want to be your housewife

Moira Lachesis

Her life was over... it would be filled with the torment of crushing lonelieness until the day time stopped. It was unlikely any pathetic human would ever be able to kill her... Only her love could have slain her and he had done just that when he died. Thoughts of her gloomy future created a haze over the demoness' senses. She completely forgot about finding the injured or dead demon and instead fell to mindless wandering. Something would cheer her up... a walk in the park maybe. On nights like this moths would be bumping sweetly against the street lights hoping to reach into that pure white light only to be pushed away time and time again. Lowering her gaze to the street she watched her black boots push her along through the sea of people. Their smell was intoxicating... their fears and worries surrounded her like a perfume. None were as perfect as the boy she had lost. Without warning she was suddenly pushed off her feet and pain shot through her elbows as they scraped against the concrete beneath her.

With a small gasp she looked up into the eyes of the man who had knocked her down. Her large blue eyes widened and she sat up. An apology escaped his lips and a hand reached out to her. Moira's eyes found his hand and for a moment she stared at it. Her own hand trembled as she reached out for him. This scene... a man taking a woman's hand she had seen it many times in her book. Now it was happening to her. "Let me help you up..." Moira slid her hand into his and he pulled her to her feet. Lingering for a moment she stared up at him. He wanted to help her... he might as well have told her he wanted to save and protect her for eternity. A soft smile spread across her face and she blushed. "It wasn't your fault. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. I have a history of clumsiness."

Tilting her head to the side a little she admired the man who had come to her rescue. His golden hair fell around his face so delicately... he might as well have stepped right out of the pages of her book. His clothes were well made and tailored to fit him just the way he liked. Moira noticed. "You were kind to stop... Most people would have just kept walking." With a little glance to her feet she laced her fingers around his and smiled. "My name is Moira..." Her heart fluttered a little as she introduced herself. This is how it should feel... true love. The universe had shifted and turned her tragedy into the beginning of something that was meant to be. This was permanent and real. Moira was in love again... and he was so tall! He could carry her easily... maybe she could feign an injury? Anything to hop up into those arms. Another smile pulled at her lips as she tried to contain her excitement. Men didn't like a girl that was too eager... she had to be smart about this.

And it's nearly midnight
And all I want with my life
is to die a housewife

[Maleficent Andromeda]

Where is My Current Location? Alleyway.
Who am I Gracing With My Presence? Poor young girl..
What is on My Mind? You just looked so...delicious.
What Form have I Decided to Take? Demon

That poor, poor girl...she never really stood a chance. I guess it is what she gets for having such an...aroma. She should have been a bit more careful handling that trash bag. She had to have known that there was broken glass in that bag. Once that broken bottle sliced open her leg, her fate was sealed. As soon as that blood hit the ground, a nightmare lurked onto the scene. It smelled sweet, like freshly baked sugar cookies. Well, she had never had sugar cookies, but this is how she would imagine they would smell. There were a few things that were problematic with this situation. Dahlia could not just go out there and start tasting her blood, that would cause so many issues. She would surely freak out. Then there is the whole, what if she was not done tasting. Then there would be this struggle and there would be screaming and loud noising, something that Dahlia really did not need to deal with. Someone who knew what they were dealing with would come along, and she would have to kill more things, which would waste more of her time. Then of course, the girl would report that another female started tasting her blood, then there would be a bounty type thing out for her, causing unwanted attention. It would be just a mess if Dahlia were to act on impulse. Luckily she was not one to do such things. She was more into planning, making sure that she gets her full experience, and she really wanted her full experience with the sugar cookie blood.

Dahlia was in her human form when she stepped out. First things first, Dahlia had to find more about her current victim, so while she seemed concerned on the outside, she was really breaking into the poor girls mind. She was twenty years old, she worked at this restaurant, and she was super excited to see her boyfriend after her shift was over. She likes the color yellow, her favorite food is Thai, and her biggest fear was...needles. Dahlia could have smiled. One of her favorite things to play with were needles. All she had to do was to get her to sleep. It started out with small hallucinations. She was not bleeding enough to pass out, but she did not know this. So Dahlia began to blur her vision as she "helped" the girl. All while there were flashes of Dahlia's demon form, and her needled fingers. Eventually Dahlia lured her to sleep. For someone with a normal mind, it was scary, to not be able to control what you may or may not want to do. It was the strong minded people that she had to be concerned about. They were always harder to control. Luckily this little gem was nice and weak. Dahlia let out a soft sigh and gently dropped the girl onto the ground. She stood up straight and looked down at her right palm. After a few moments an eye appeared. It looked up at Dahlia; she smiled down at it. The eye glanced at her dark hair, and almost immediately, it because to turn into a light pink. When the eye looked at her face, her eyes disappeared, and her lips turned blue. The more the eye looked over, the more that Dahlia began to change, until finally her demon form was complete. Dahlia let out a soft sigh and stretched out her right hand and faced it towards the sleeping woman. Needles was the way to go, and you know what? Her boyfriend was going to kill her. Oh controlling dreams was an art, and Dahlia was the master.

Dahlia leaned down and pressed her palm against the girls forehead, and in just a moment, she found herself in a scene. She was having a lovely time with her boyfriend. They were kissing in what looked like her bedroom. How sweet, she really loved this man. Dahlia walked over to the dream portraying the boyfriend and she ripped it out, and soon took its place. She continued the dream for just a little, until she transformed her finger into a monstrous needle and lightly jabbed her side. She seemed disturbed, but Dahlia reassured her that everything was alright. Then she made all of her fingers needles. She leaned up and gave that girl a loving look, and she then warped the dream so she could not move on the bed. "Oh darling~ I love you so much, you are so sweet...I imagine your blood tastes like sugar cookies...I would love to find out." There were pleas and cries, but that only made Dahlia continue. I bet her tears tasted like gumdrops. It did not take long at all for Dahlia to go taste them. She had been correct. If she knew what gumdrops tasted like. She stood above the poor girl and lightly pressed one of her needle fingers against her chest. A small dot of blood appeared. Dahlia sampled the blood. A million times better than the tear. A chuckle left her lips. She stood there a moment and suddenly began to plunge the needles into the girl, over and over. Her screams were loud, but she was in dream, outside there was probably whimpering, and of course all the bleeding...finally the dream went dark. Always a good sign. Dahlia left her mind and looked down at the girl. Dead as a doornail. She leaned down, and looked over the girl with her hand. She stole her image. Perhaps one day, Dahlia could get a taste of her boy. She scooped up some of the blood and dripped it into her mouth. She almost squeed, but that could have given her position away. It was just too good. Much better than the dream, and the dream blood was....glorious. She continued to drink the blood, keeping an eye out for anyone that may possibly stop her.

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

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Where is My Current Location? A bar. Or something.
Who am I Gracing With My Presence? People.
What is on My Mind? Milk. I want some milk.
What Form have I Decided to Take? Human

Dahlia found herself in a bathroom. The bar's that was across the alleyway from the restaurant that the poor girl worked at. It was quite simple, she walked in as the sugar cookie girl, and when she went to the restroom, she formed back into her human appearance. It would confuse the hell out of everyone who is anyone...unless someone knows what she is, but there aren't many out there that know of what she is, so it is quite alright. Dahlia stared at herself in the mirror. She still couldn't get over that her eyes were where they were. She may be in her human form more often than not, but when she thinks of herself, she imagines her demon form. Her dark eyes blinked several, a smile was still prominent on her face. That should hold her for awhile. That is until someone else foolishly cuts themselves. Dahlia stepped away from the mirror and looked down at her self. No blood. Which was good. She was wearing a a white sundress with big, brightly blue flowers. It would have been such a shame if it were to be ruined over a bloodlust. How silly. There was a drop of blood on her heel though. It was black, but you could still tell. She wiped it off, and placed her finger in her mouth. Still sweet as hell.

Eventually Dahlia stepped out of the bathroom and looked around. It was quite boisterous. People were yelling, couples kissing, the occasional person glancing at her. She did not blame them. She was a girl who decided that wearing a sundress in a bar was a swell idea. Perhaps for this outing she should have opted on a black tank top with a floral vest and some jeans or something. It was too late for that though. Dahlia made her way over to the bar and sat down. She waved down the bartender and smiled lightly. "Hello there handsome man.~ Could you do me a favor and get me a glass of milk. I am sure you have it.~ No alcohol though. It will make my stomach ache terribly." She flashed him another sweet smile as he went off to get what she wanted. Dahlia turned and looked to the crowd. All of them looked so defenseless. Granted, a few could probably take a human no problem, but someone like her? Probably not. She would imagine that it would probably end poorly if anyone tried anything. Unless, unless if it was an Adept. Then it would be a challenge for sure. And there would be a chance that her dress would get ruined, and there was no chance in hell that her shoes were going to be part of that scrap. So maybe it would be a good idea to lay low. Unless someone by chance is able to pick her out of a crowded room. Which was highly unlikely. Dahlia turned around to see a glass of milk in front of her. She smiled lightly and pushed her hair behind her ears. She picked up the glass and took a sip. It wasn't blood, but goodness, it was still such a delight.

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

[Slyfo]

The time spent in her apartment bedroom was evident on how awkward it was for her to push herself into this coffee-shop, teeming with people. Her clothes felt tight on her, the turtle-neck now choking her slowly and her jean’s belt was twisting tighter until her breath was being forced out haggardly. She was having a slight panic attack, and at one of the most inopportune moments. She was unused to the low mutter of people’s voices, and it made her quite paranoid. The mark she followed from her apartment was here, and she cursed her luck that it was this place he chose. She imagined that it was in the personality of these people, and as she pushed the ornate glass door to the side, she found herself choked by aroma, heat, and bodies around her. Her eyes slowly surveyed as she held her breathe. Looking. Sensing.
Breathe…
Her eyes laid over a handsome man conversing with two young girls, each of which were plastered to his side, both willing to lend their love to his clever façade. Fools, all of them. It enraged her to think that anyone would be different, would notice that something was wrong about how they were feeling. In fact, his deadly perfume reached her in sickening waves of death. Corruption gleamed off of his perfect hair, beautiful smile. Kristael looked away in immediate disgust, also trying to keep a low profile.

“Well well, girls. It would seem that we have another admirer tonight… and a lovely young lass she is!” He had a voice that was just screaming to be ripped from his throat as far as she was concerned, and a personality to match. The girls beside him squealed and other patrons in the café turned to see for themselves, focusing their attention on her. Her face blushed immediately, although no comfortable heat stung her cheeks, as it hadn’t in a very long time. She stopped in the middle of the place, her way now blocked with onlookers. She had its full attention now.
Keep breathing…
Her blue eyes crept up from the table to meet the hideous blackness of the man’s, fighting the sudden urge to cave that his glare brought. He was menacing, but she sorely doubted that anyone else who looked into his eyes that night felt the same.
“Why don’t you—Oh, come have a seat next to my… friends here.” He patted a seat beside the other two with suave persuasion, the girls giggling and whispering to each other. Kristael shook her head slowly and strut over to the table, as temptingly as possible. She would never wiggle her a** like this again, and never would have if it hadn’t meant accomplishing the task she had before her. She leaned with elbows on the table, a caress in her eyes as she stared dazedly at the man.
…BREATH GODDAMN IT! A soft inhale reached her lips with a cute grin, her eyes relaxed and dream-like.

“I have a better idea. I think you should accompany me, and somewhere private too.” Her words dripped with an invisible acid, it burned her tongue and plagued her mind. How much she disliked this moment was beyond compare with the rest of her life. Well, almost. “What do you say to a one-night offer—“ She hesitated a moment, suffocating on her words, the turtle-neck not only choking her but simply crushing her throat. “— you could show me a good time, maybe.“ It was clear that she had his interest, and to seal the deal she pushed her aura out seductively. As if being hit clear in the face with it, his eyes shot open and he leaned back in surprise. It was clear in his eyes that he had gotten an easy out for a kill tonight, and she showed her teeth now half to keep her cover, and half because he would never see it coming.

“Well, I’m sure you girls wouldn’t mind,” He peered over to them, his eyes doing a better job than his lips. The girls nodded, disappointment riddling their faces, but contentment helping them out of their seats and out the door. Two more lives, however worth it that was, were owed to her slutty act tonight. “and it would seem that we have the night to share with ourselves, my dear.” He stood, a hand left out waiting for hers to clasp. She stood straight up, backing away a little before walking out the door. She would be obstinate, if it meant avoiding contact with him at any cost. The night air drifted weightily into her face, the lack of humidity was drying her lips out. She had brought nothing that would get lost that night; she had no patience to take care of things of little consequence. Her new partner for the night escorted himself out of the café, somewhat displeased but unable to show it. He slid next to her, guiding her down the way, beginning idle chatter.
He certainly talked a lot for a demon, she always imagined that they were the cut-to-the-chase kind of creatures, but he certainly redefined them all. It was almost witty, as he slipped on many of his phrases as they came out sounding more violent than they did seductive. However, she could hardly pay any attention to him at all. All of her focus was on her aura, making sure it was well contained and still releasing the mysterious vibe that kept wrapping his attention to her. It was only a matter of time before he snapped from his charade, and took matters to the next stage in his ploy.
“Why don’t we slip down this way, shall we? There’s a wonderful bar—much more private than that last place.” He turned wistfully down the alleyway, Kristael turning with him sharply, snapping her mind out of thought. Here was what she came to expect from these things, their bloodlust not able to contain themselves when such a prize was near. Her teeth grit as her eyes shifted away from her new ‘friend’, she was nervous. This would be her first ever since her partner died, and she wasn’t completely sure of herself.

It was then she noticed two things. First, she felt another’s aura close by, and one that wasn’t demonic. It was nice. Warm. She embraced it inwardly, forcing her eyes to search both ends of the long alley, even up towards to rooftops. It was very distinct, but had lasted only as long as she had started looking; then it was gone. This brought her attention to the other thing. And a thing it was, for there wasn’t another way she could describe the being before her. Where his tall, handsome form had been before, her escort had ripped and burned it’s flesh off, leaving a mass of wet, solid material splashing onto the ground. Its back had grown a massive arch, creating a four legged beast whose eyes bled red with the blood of innocents he had already coerced. It was massive, standing about her height of 5’ 7”, and growled viciously, uncaring of the attention he could attract. Careless for a demon, but his hunger was obvious in his eyes.

It lashed out with talons the size of rulers, gnarled and sharp, cutting the material of her sweater at the base of her stomach. Her instinct had her fall back, pressing against the wall behind her for support as the beast lunged again. This time, her boot stuck out and forcefully met the demon in the face. Its momentum carried the beast forward anyways, but gave her enough leverage to prop herself over it and land rolling into a somersault behind it. Her hands grasped the metal of the handgun tucked neatly into the base of her jeans, just under her sweater as she whipped around to face the demon that was already in quick pursuit of her. She left her off hand on the wall behind her and fired two shots into the face of the blasphemy, it curling off to the side in pain. It hissed in what seemed like laughter, its blood surging out of the now-open wounds in its face. It turned to her with what was a devilish smile, reaching literally from ear to ear, and steam rising from the now closing wounds. Kristael knew it wasn’t going to be easy, though its regenerative property was still off putting. She smiled slyly back at the beast firing the remaining eight shots in her clip. The beast stood, taking every shot in what seemed like an attempt to intimidate her. It wasn’t working. Its face was neatly torn away, revealing a skeletal structure as black as night, and blood now gushing over the open concrete. Steam was rising in billows as the flesh attempted to reconnect itself, and began to reform.

It was halted immediately, as Kristael lanced her hands out in a vice grip, grabbing the loop of the eye sockets and focusing all of her being into her hands. The demon lashed back, pulling her off of the ground and flailing in the air in an attempt to buck her off, but she kept a study grip on the demon’s skull. Ice began to spread slowly from her fingertips, halting the process of healing, and curled in a creep around the circumference of its face. The steam stopped, and the demon reeled insanely back and forth, finally able to shake her off of its back, Kristael hitting the ground with all the force into her side, tumbling prone. The beast clawed desperately at its face, succeeding only in peeling more flesh from the river of gore that flushed into the dirt on the ground. With a final throw of indignation, it fell at Kristael as she barrel-rolled out of its path, her head knocking the brick wall of the surrounding building. The beast fell a few feet in front of her, still twitching, but slowly decomposing rather than regenerating. Kristael sat up, backing several feet away before bringing her knees up to meet her face as she sat and watched the Shadow’s rotten flesh melt away into the gravelly concrete.

And she began to cry. Her tears dropped like icicles from her cheeks as she struggled to get a breath. She was winded, tired, bruised… and she felt little satisfaction for killing this demon. It was one of many, the first of an army. She hadn’t even scratched the surface, and it was apparent what sort of toll this was to take on her. All she wanted was to go home now, to clean up and dress her wounds. She could feel her entire side bruising already, her face and hands dripping in the beast’s foul blood. Her clothes were drenched in its lucid smelling, sticky concentration. Yes, home—but her legs would not move. She could only cry, sobbing noisily as the last of the creature faded from existence like a terrible nightmare.
Just… breathe…

[Dao Ma]

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ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: streets of NY
ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: a lovely young woman~
ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴅʏ: What is this I see? A lovely blush on a lovely woman~? ♥
I-I WORK OUT~♥: mood music n/a

Aisander's eyes remained on the woman as she hesitantly (or so he though hesitantly) slipped her hand into his for him to help her up. Slowly, he pulled on her arm, slipping his free hand behind her shoulder as he raised her to her feet. Once she was up, he loosened his grip on her hand and lowered his other to his side. She...didn't let go. Maybe she was scared? He gave her a warm smile, as he did with many women. He continued to hold her hand, wondering at what point she would let go.

"Clumsiness, hm?" He mumbled after raising up. "Clumsiness tends to have a way of meeting new faces, don't you think?" He couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Ah, people are rude these days. Not a sense in the world of consideration for others." He turned his head slightly and wrinkled his nose, as to find disgust in humanity's rudeness. "I couldn't possibly leave a lovely woman such as yourself on the ground to be stepped on by another! What sort of person would I be? Obviously someone without good character!" A slight joke, but no one would really catch it. His eyes returned to her as she introduced her name. A smile just as bright as the city lights flickered on Ai's lips. "Aisander. Pleasure meeting you Moira, even if the circumstance was accidental." He lightly gripped her hand, raising it slightly and lowering himself to press his lips against her knuckles. Yup, he was a charmer. Right out of a fairytale.

Aisander wouldn't know what he was doing to this young demoness. Turning her heart up and causing it to flutter. Making that blush rise to her cheeks. He noticed the blush, and his eyes brightened at his amusement. Was she just an average girl that was oh-so-shy? Those ones were always fun to interact with. They always seemed to insecure, but when he got to dig deeper into them, they became something all too interesting. Was she like one of them? How she spoke was slightly more bold than the super shy girls he'd met before. Yes. This one interested him. "Are you alright? No injuries?" He asked, wanting to be sure he wouldn't have to aid her in going to the hospital or anything. He hates hospitals. Too many run-ins with a certain doctor. Though that one time he was able to stab him in the neck with a syringe to subdue him was a rather nice incident.

He slowly dropped her hand and hooked his thumbs into his pockets and took a quick glance around. It was late. He wondered what she was doing out at this time? But then again, it was New York, where everyone was busy at every minute of the day. He turned his attention back to her and waited for her to reply. She looked alright. But who knows how hard he actually bumped into her frail-looking form.
#A63535
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