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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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 Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 10:27 pm
Breathing heavy having just escaped the claws of a particularly large and very cat like youma, Paris was not looking forward to whatever else the city had in store for him that night. It felt like youma were everywhere, and he'd no idea why. It was a Thursday, didn't youma have better things to be doing? Like going back to whatever hell pit they came from? But no, they were monsters, and they existed to keep Thursdays lively. His heart slowing back to normal, Paris worked to lower his breathing, leaning on the side of a pastry shop, the light by the door showcasing through the glass the delicate and fancy decorated cakes. The sight of them had him smiling, wondering if there was a way to use his power to sneak in and maybe take one. As he summoned his skull to his hand- "Once more, I'm reminded just how useless you are." He said to the skull. It said nothing back.
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Posted: Mon Feb 22, 2016 7:46 pm
Wolfeite enjoyed the youma.
He found them fascinating, on a purely scientific level, a strong desire to study and pick them apart and learn how they worked deep within Wolfeite's mind. He liked the ferocity of them, the raw potential they had. And most of all, he liked that he could control them.
Not yet, of course. But soon enough.
He felt now, the brush of an Order signature. Wolfeite strode along the sidewalk, a starseed in hand that he'd recently tugged free of a homeless man's chest, and he brought it to his lips as he neared the figure leaning against the building, as plain as day.
"Talking to yourself?" Wolfeite murmured, and there was a crunching noise as he bit into the starseed and swallowed it, the taste of it burning pleasantly down his throat.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Fri Feb 26, 2016 3:23 am
The sudden arrival of another had Paris jump, the skull in his hand clattering to the ground. Paris frantically reached down and picked it back up, glad it hadn't shattered or borken. Skulls were a lot more fragile than he'd originally thought. What, being bones and all. "NO!" He yelled out before looking at the skull once more and correcting himself. "Well, ah, yes, technically but also no?" The skull had been a person at one point. The fact still was unnerving. "Ah-" It took a second but the sudden wash of chaos radiating off the man became thick in the air, pushing at Paris's sense. Y-you!" He stammered. "I know what you do so- so stay back!" The skull was held up threateningly. As well a skull could be.
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Posted: Wed Mar 02, 2016 9:42 am
He stood, unfazed by the clatter of the skull, and watched the page flounder with it, Wolfeite's eyes the only part of his expression visible beneath the kerchief tied over his nose and mouth. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes a little, and in spite of the almost lazy way in which he surveyed the page, his stance was anything but relaxed.
"Do you, now?" he asked, as he advanced forward, and Wolfeite felt the thrill of violence in his veins, the heady desire to attack making his fingers twitch with the effort of holding back.
"I don't stay back," he said calmly. "I will, however, give you one second to beg."
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 5:43 pm
This was not good in any sense of the word. Paris was by no means a fighter and he had a terrible habit of ruining everything. Himself included. Luck was not in his name and the page could already tell that his luck was very much in the negatives. This guy was business, Paris was not. "I- I... I I I I-" His stuttering became gradulaly worse as past instances where he'd been stuck at the end of childhood 'pranks' came forth. "I'm not afraid to use this!" As The agent took a step- Paris threw his skull. He was pretty sure he was done for.
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Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2016 7:27 am
He liked to hear them beg.
It was a pointless endeavor; he would never let any of them go, if he could help it - but hearing them try and plead for their useless lives and their cause, whatever that was, made the rush of victory so much better. They were all so determinedly sterile, the White Moon.
It made Wolfeite want to turn it all to charcoal.
The skull cracked against Wolfeite's jaw, his head jerking with the motion of it, the impact sending a jolt of pain reverberating up the side of his face. He lifted a gloved hand, fingers pressing briefly against the bruise that would eventually begin to form on the edge of his jaw, eyes glittering with malice.
"Time's up," Wolfeite hissed, and lunged, fist swinging.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2016 7:15 pm
Well that worked perfectly. Paris never really thought through the whole fact his weapon was a skull, and for the most part kept screwing up on how to use it and not leave himself defenseless like he was now. The skull might have connected but Paris knew as it clattered to the ground he'd made a mistake. He should have run yet now? Now he was frozen in place by fear. His mouth was open like he might speak but no sound came out. The page's mind was blank, and he was at a loss. He was a sitting duck.
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 8:23 am
He liked the ones that were feisty, the ones that fought back pathetically, as though they had a chance in hell of winning. But there was also something appealing about the ones who clearly had no idea what to do, and this was one of them.
Wolfeite felt a spark of amusement, a rush of satisfaction as his fist hit; and he twisted immediately, one hand grabbing just above the page's elbow, the other seizing his wrist, fingers closing around the fragile bones there. He shifted, twisted, and in a smooth movement had the man's arm pinned behind his back, bent at a dangerously odd angle.
Wolfeite's voice was low in the page's ear, his head alongside the other's.
"I don't hear any begging," he hissed.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 10:38 am
When shock hits you, you often lack the feeling of pain and can only grasp the concept. Pain reception is stifled, and you're left hardly able react as your brain is tryng to focus on other things. When Paris was grabbed it hit him that he should fight, that he should be moving, but he wasn't ready, his muscles were tense and not receptive, and by the time his mind had caught up, he was aware that there was pain in his arm, that he'd been hurt, yet he didn't feel it. He just knew that he'd lost the ability to use his limb. The scream that left it was loud and terrified. Paris couldn't think beyond fear and so while it might have been ideal? The page was screaming and finally reacting, desperate to get away. kuropeco cut up his back or w/e break more bones i need this bab broken as hell
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Posted: Thu Mar 10, 2016 6:43 am
He hadn't yet done anything more than pin the page's arm behind his back, pushing hard so that it was bent wrongly; but to see the way he froze before he began to scream was immensely pleasing to Wolfeite. He lowered his voice, a quiet croon in the man's ear.
"Close enough," he whispered.
There was a sharp, awful, crunching crack. Wolfeite felt the push of the page's arm, now unnaturally bent, and a satisfied smile crossed his face beneath the mask. He rested his head momentarily against the side of the page's, rough laughter echoing out.
"All of you White Moon think the same," said Wolfeite, and then there was nothing but hard fury, a callous anger as he shoved, throwing the page and his newly broken arm hard. "You think you know better than me, well I'll tell you this."
His eyes were glinting, Wolfeite's posture almost feral as he bent over the page.
"No one knows better than me."
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 10:09 pm
Screams of Fear sharply turned into screams of pain. Paris hadn't broken a bne before, and now that he had- he wanted it to stop. The man was too close, and Paris was too scared, water filling his eyes and him wondering why he got chosen for this, why he was supposed to fight and get hurt and suffer. What had he done to this man? To anyone? "Stop-" He was crying now, and he couldn't stop it. Fear had taken hold of him. "Please, I'll do anything just stop!" Struggling as he begged, Paris was growing more and more frantic. When thrown, he immediately reached to hold his broken arm to shield it from further pain, further damage. "I'm sorry." He whispered as she shook, terrified and wanting to run. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." Blue eyes looked at the officer- and Paris tried to free himself, his chant growing louder, asking for forgiveness.
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 2:01 pm
It was such a delightful sound. Wolfeite liked the screaming, and he liked the begging even more. The page was now on the ground, clutching at his shattered arm, and a heady rush of power swept through Wolfeite, searing through his veins.
He liked being the one to cause this. To be the one in control.
Wolfeite crouched slowly down beside him, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight, hard chips of coldness. "I'll let you go, for tonight," he said, and smiled. It did not reach his eyes as he tugged down the kerchief, his face fully visible so that the smirk spread across it, twisted and maniacal.
"Come find me again when you're not quite so pathetic,' he whispered, and Wolfeite stood. He leaned back and then slammed his foot into the page's stomach before repeating the gesture again and then taking a step back, his teeth too white, smile too wide.
"Come find me again when you have a death wish," said Wolfeite, and then he'd slipped away, disappeared into the shadows to leave the man crying and crumbled on the ground.
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