Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

[Vinegar Bees]

Maylee found herself smiling a small, private smile as Shia described returning to his home. There was a certain ache to it, a longing—she missed having a home of her own to return to, but hearing Shia say he wanted to fight for his home made her all the more determined to fight for it, too. All of them—they were all fighting for their homes, weren't they? On a macro level, the world was their home, and whatever was happening to the moon was threatening it.

She had always found home in people rather than places, and the thought of fighting for the people fighting for their own homes—despite all of the doubt scraping away within her, it left her with a small, impenetrable hope that she was doing the right thing.

Maylee followed Shia and Evelyn upstairs, her mind quickly boggling at the sheer number of amenities Devlin's property offered. The tubs for bathing were spacious and pristine, a far cry from the cramped, mildew-stained little thing she had scrubbed herself in on many an early Monday morning (Adrien kept the house fervently clean, but there was something about those mildew stains sunk into the grout that refused to be vanquished). The twin sinks would have been a godsend for the daily tango of teeth-brushing, shaving, and hair-combing that threatened to fill the tiny bathroom to bursting.

Naturally, the bedrooms themselves were just as luxurious: a huge, plush bed that seemed ready to swallow her; a fireplace, a real wooden fireplace with a few decorative horse shoes nailed to its mantle; more space altogether than she knew what to do with. Shia advised her and Evelyn to pick a room, and Maylee hesitated as she watched Evelyn quickly make her choice. There were so many rooms it made her head spin—how was she supposed to choose?

You're overthinking this. It's just a room.

With a deep breath, Maylee strode into the first room on her left, her eyes scanning the bed to be sure it hadn't been claimed by Shia's bags. Slowly, hesitantly, almost as if she expected the room to spit her out in her comparative plainness, she made her way to the bed and placed her bag carefully down on its center. Carefully, she unzipped the bag and extricated her stuffed rabbit, placing it gently beside the bag and smoothing its fur.

For a moment, she looked silently into its rundown button-eyes. "We can do this," she murmured quietly to it. "We've got each other."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯​

The dinner was, as expected, dazzling. The food itself wasn't intimidatingly extravagant, instead comprising a cornucopia of comfort foods that matched the overall warmth of Devlin's home. Maylee scanned the dishes piled high with slabs of juice-bedecked meat, golden-brown rolls shiny with a buttery finish, and honey-glazed carrots sparkling like red dwarf stars beneath the cast-iron chandelier. Just as with the bedrooms, she didn't know where to begin.

When Tilly cheerfully inquired about her plate, Maylee found herself fumbling nervously. "Oh—um—" It would seem ungrateful, she thought, not to take advantage of the meal Tilly had generously cooked for them, but she had to admit she was far too shy to indulge as greedily as she would have liked. And what should she eat—? For most of her life, Maylee had been a vegetarian, but the wolf within her had quite willfully made some dietary changes. The husky scent of the meat was enough to make her mouth run with thick saliva, and she could almost feel her teeth sharpening into fangs as the wolf awaited the fresh kill with relish.

"Um... some roast beef, please," Maylee said shyly, "and some peas and corn, please. Um, thank you—!"

She glanced at Devlin as the man offered a chance to say grace for anyone who so desired. Maylee frowned, trying to pull at distant memories. She hadn't been brought up in any particular faith—Dad's family had been Muslim, she knew, but he had always had a laissez-faire attitude to religion, and if they had ever said any sort of blessing at the dinner table, she couldn't remember it now. She supposed she would need to go off-script.

Maylee furrowed her brow as she stared down at her hands, clasping them together in what felt like a proper gesture of prayer, and somewhat clumsily prayed: Um, God, I don't know if you're listening, or if you're even there, or... if you would want to talk to me if you were. But...

She clenched her hands together, her knuckles blanching.

...I'm not ready to give up on this world, or the people in it. So please... let me fight for it for as long as I can.

Unclasping her hands, Maylee looked bashfully up at the rest of the guests and the colorful array of food splayed across their dishes. "Thank you for the food," she murmured.

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Foster Croft

Tags: Indy Rhyme | Location: Brooklyn, New York​

Foster knew she needed him more than he needed her. Claws once more lifted and tapped at the top of the pane, and they'd drag down again if the window wasn't opened. He could hear her even with the thing shut, "Wonderful, an idiot and stubborn!" It did the trick though, and the window was opened for him.

Chortling, the coatimundi entered and dragged the bag inside with him. It was quickly apparent he meant to shift again right where he was. Even before he had finished the change to the naked flesh human, articles of clothing were being tossed his way.

"Dam..fu...wait!" One hand started batting it away. "Let me get in my damn bag, you fucking harpy!" He had clothing in the bag he dragged in with him. Foster fished out a rolled up gray tee, boxer briefs with a smiley face pattern, jeans with more holes than not, all naturally made with just wear and tear, and some slip on shoes.

"Need to get you some damn cat nip for the trip!" Foster was getting all his clothing on, while his mouth kept on running, because that's just what Foster did. "Carpet wearing Shakespearean shrew. Bet you scrub the toilet with your toothbrush before you use it, you foul lipped miniature troll reject. Even fucking Lord of the Rings wouldn't take you." Yet, somehow, one might start to feel he wasn't talking to her as much as he was insulting himself.

He was slipping on his shoes when Foster looked up and over to the girl. "Indy? As in Indiana Jones? HA! How the fuck did you survive this long? Hide in a flying fridge?" Total dig on the last, and thoroughly unmentionable Indiana Jones movie he saw.

Bag was zipped and shrugged over a shoulder as he stood up. "Well, cheer the fuckery up. There's someone who does want you, in all your wee little Brownie ways. Though, probably more of a Kobold with the way you clean, cough not clean cough. If you wanna tag along, meet some others, and kick this goddamn moon in its crater filled pus infested ass... let's go." He made a gesture to the open window and the world outside.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Malika

Tags: Luna Thropian | Location: New York​

The response to Luna was as expected. "Acknowledged. Head to the airstrip, lot B. We'll locate the flight and have the jet ready for takeoff upon your arrival." What wasn't expected however, was who would be joining Luna.

"Baron Malika will be joining you." The name stood out for a few reasons. First, she refused to be called Baroness, as it was too sexist. And two, she was a strong magician the Order found a decade ago, and has been quite loyal ever since. Loyal, and sometimes a pain, but she had respect and the ability to back her moxie up.

Baron Malika was indeed there to join Luna in her pursuit of the leech. She waited on the plane, a smaller jet, as it would be just the two of them and the plane staff. This is where the third reason Malika might possibly stand out should be mentioned.

She often wore an eye patch over her right eye, and sometimes donned a little crown. Baron Malika was known to enjoy the finer things afforded to her station. The eye patch was bejeweled as much as her crown was. However, it served a purpose. It was rumored to augment her magical abilities, though the woman was often reluctant to discuss personal matters and would neither confirm nor deny such tales.

"Welcome, Hastatus Prior Luna." Her voice screamed nobility, dripping with saccharine, sultry tones. Her overall voice and mannerisms could be perceived as condescending, and perhaps it was to a degree. Perhaps it was her natural state of being. "Our target is heading to Florida. Despicable place, hot and full of beasts." She gave a slow grin, one eyebrow arching delicately upward. "Like our tick, hmmm?"

The flight attendant handed her a glass of wine, and she offered up a small smile that came across as dismissive more than not. "Well, let's take off, it's going to be a long flight, and this circulated air will dry out my hair." Sip.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Coven Headquarters | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Clementine AsherMasher Edwin Thropian Winnie Vinegar Bees
Location: Coven HQ

Oh, no—the other two had already made it to Clementine's house. From a distance, Winnie could see the boy standing at Clementine's front door, with the latter seemingly listening intently to what he was saying. A thick clot of dismay formed in Winnie's stomach—Clementine was listening to him. What had she done wrong herself? Could Clementine somehow see through her skin itself, see through to the ugly creature that swam beneath?

As the grandparents' car came to a halt, Winnie cautiously unbuckled her seat belt and exited through the door, glancing over her shoulder as the grandparents mechanically followed, those strange smiles still plastered to their faces.

The bigger man who had been traveling with the young one stood nearby, and Winnie briefly glanced at him before casting her gaze shamefully down at her feet, her leather gloves crinkling as she squeezed her hands together. "I don't want to fight," she murmured quietly. "I'm sorry—I just—I really need to talk to the girl who lives here."

Seeing the car approach, and knowing that he did not look like he was in the right, Edwin took a defensive step back towards Levi. "Hey kids, we got some company." he pointed out as the car parked.

As he watched the crew exit, Edwin saw how strange the group was. The elderly couple looked spaced out, possibly drugged, and the young woman seemed afraid to look at anyone. She wrung her hands out as he mumbled something. Edwin feared magic, but nothing seemed to happen, so he positioned himself defensively between the two groups.

"You kids know them?"


"Why did it stop?" The male's voice was slightly distorted, warped and coming from somewhere Clementine could not see, or reach. "Did it break again? Goddammit!" The next sound was reminiscent of someone hitting their fist against the table, or wall, but the sound reverberated wrong.

Clementine could feel herself floating, weightless and timeless. It was warm and comforting, however Clementine had the sensation of lacking energy. She was tired, drained and ready for a nap. A nice long, deep nap, until the man's sigh warped through her existence.

"Fine. It lasted longer than previously. We're getting there." In the background, like white noise, she could hear other voices, muted and too jumbled to make out before the one male spoke again. "Did you get the information on the others she showed?"

Light started to pierce Clemetine's awareness, flickering yellow and orange, dancing a macabre ceremony of shadow and light. "Good. Were those agents two of ours? Find them, too." Another sigh, laden with a sense of responsibility. "Reset her."

Moments after those words were heard, Clementine felt a thousand pinpricks all over her body. The light became a blinding sun, obliterating everything from her senses. Sound buzzed louder and louder, until, for just a moment, everything Clementine knew wrapped around her like a cocoon before shattering apart. She floated, amid the broken remnants of her memory, a blank canvas.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Grandparents' Home | Current Timeline: May 11th​

Tags: Clementine AsherMasher | Location: Paradise, NV

The night was not a friend. Dreams skipped away, just out of reach, a brush of the fingertips and it was gone. Instead, something with a gnarled, twisted and callous talon took a hold of the outstretched hand, and it tugged. Like Alice in Wonderland, Clementine tumbled forward into a dark abyss. Falling head first, anguished whispers assaulted her ears, echoing hollowly as she continued to fall into nothing.

Ayudarnos... La sangre... Ayudarnos, ayudarnos...

The tight hold upon her hand remained, pulling hard every so often, making her fall faster and faster each time. A flash of lightning, illuminated the walls around her. Circular in shape, she was surrounded by something rippling, running downward, matching the direction of her descent. Another flash, another glimpse, something moved just on the other side. It was blurry, and too brief to make out what it was. Where she was. And still the haunting whispers, filled with pain and an indescribable sorrow.

Ayudarnos... La sangre... Ayudarnos, ayudarnos...

Faster now, rushing like a waterfall, the sound thundering louder and louder. The air was almost abrasive against Clementine's skin, it wasn't hard to imagine the skin drying and cracking, peeling away. The lightning returned, twice more, lingering long enough to illuminate a form rushing upward, toward her. There was no way to stop the collision, not enough room to slip by. A low growl started to build, reverberating off the walls, taking over all of the witch's senses as the fading lightning left her in darkness.

Then, a scream.

And in an instant, the nightmare was gone, only a memory, dancing on the edges of Clementine's consciousness for a few precious seconds. The alarm clock was going off, signalling the end of the blood filled night.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Block F | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Winnie Vinegar Bees | Location: Colorado

The holding room was stark, devoid of warmth and color. There were two cot sized beds, against the walls opposite one another. A small three drawer dresser was sandwiched in between, with a table lamp, her gloves, and a small mirror on top. The windows were high on the same wall, warded and protected from breakage, or escape.

The floor was carpeted, plush and still soft. And while there wasn't a closet, there was a single door leading to a small bathroom. Shower for one, toilet and sink, with the barest of necessities. Everything from the sheets, to the clothing found in the drawers were neutral colors; gray, white, black.

Winnie was assigned the bed on the left, but no one was in the other. She had been alone since being brought to the holding room. How long ago has it been now? Six months. Six months since a fateful mission had gone so very awry.

Her prosthetic leg rested against the dresser as the lights of the room came on. A moment later, a tray full of food was pushed through an opening in the middle of the door. It was like a mail slot, only on the inside there was a small ledge capable of bearing the weight of things like a food tray.

The tray had bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs and toast, along with a bowl of fruit and cheese squares. A thermos of water was pushed through a moment later, resting beside the tray. A male voice announced, "Breakfast."

Winnie could remember a girl, and a mission with Kessler to retrieve said girl. Only it felt like a dream, hazy and slowly fading away in her waking hours. In a little while, it wouldn't even be a memory.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Leviathan Black

Tags: Edwin Thropian | Location: Houston, TX (May 14th)​

Levi jolted awake on the bus. One hand wound up clutching at Edwin's arm until he had his bearings again. "Whoa. Okay. Trippy." He let go of Edwin and rubbed his face vigorously. Green eyes blinked until he could get the sleepy fog to go away.

"Weird." He sat up straighter, peering out the bus window to see where they were at. "Almost to Houston." A chuff, and a laugh that was more breath than sound. "How about you, Pops? How you... Pops? What.. I.."

Confusion filled his face before he laughed it off. Fingers combed his hair to be just right, even though it hadn't really been wrong, it was a comforting habit. "Sorry, just.. popped into my head. Ha! Pops. Popped. Get it?"

Edwin would have a similar foggy remembrance of another city, other people, a different bus with a different destination. Blurred lines of color, faded recollection of voices, words unrecognizable. All of this would fade the more awake Edwin became.

They were on a Greyhound bus to Houston, Texas, from where Levi met up with Edwin in Colorado. It was the early evening on Thursday, May 14th, and they still had a little while longer before they would reach their destination.

Wright Wranch.

coded by natasha.

 

[Maeteris]

Yeo-Jin Park

Stupid cat, with his dumb ears and face. She’s about to kick him when Banks spoke. “What now?!” She turns her head. She’d thought shouting at him would’ve made him leave her alone. Staring at her is Banks as he lifts up the spray they’d been given. A blast of cold liquid lands on the back of her neck. Tickly. Soothing.

“No it didn’t get me.” She scoffs, jaw clenched. She’s never been that angry, and that small rational part of her mind tries to bring her down back. “Yeah… Maybe you’re right.” She relents as she exhales. Shit. She’d just lose her cool because of some weird dust. Way to go, Park.

Morgan suddenly dashes forward jus as she eased her grip. “Damn it!” She runs after him, this time actually tripping midway up the stairs and landing on her elbows, sliding down a few steps before her feet caught their balance. “Shit, ow, fuck.” She groans, but manages to pick up her pace.

That fae was going to feel her wrath alright. She hated chasing after people on these stupid legs. This time she’s going to tackle him good.

location: Florida • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions

 

[Rhyme]

Indy(ana Jones)
Tags: Out Of Words
Location: Brooklyn​

The expression in Foster's beady eyes did not signify any intent to give in. He once again raised his sharp claws, poised carefully over the glass. If rats could smirk.

"Wonderful, an idiot and stubborn!" She opened the window and didn't bother watching his furry ass crawl inside. A life of shifting had prepared her for what was coming and she was not having it in her apartment. He was only mid-morph before she was grabbing random handfuls of clothing and throwing them at him. Could have sworn that hiking bag was in here somewhere...

"Dam...fu...wait!" Did she detect a tone of indignation? Good. "Let me get in my damn bag, you fucking harpy!" And there's my bag. A large navy backpack, flattened beneath a mountain of jeans and shoe boxes piled in front of her empty closet.

"Gonna need more than some catnip if I'm going anywhere with you," she muttered. Old t-shirts and pants were thrown into the bag as she made a loop around her apartment, digging through drawers and stepping carefully over the discarded food. About a year ago she had considered getting a dog, partially due to the irony; guess it was a good thing she had never followed through.

She turned finally and faced him. "Miniature troll reject? Really? And Jesus, man. Where the hell did you get those jeans? Out of a dumpster?" There should be a pair from some ex fling somewhere. May as well pack for him too, if he was planning on prancing around like a rock band roadie abandoned at the last music festival in the rain. "Don't think you have any right to shit on my name there, Reaper." She had no idea what a 'Kobold' was but she was not about to reveal that little tidbit.

"Just give me a minute." She reached past him for the small flip phone glowing on the small table between her windows and scrolling through her contacts until she found her boss's number. Thankfully, being the kid of the previous owner and working at the bar since before it was legal for her to do so came with perks. Her mother though...

It wasn't unusual to not hear from her for a few weeks; there was only one landline at the commune and it was generally reserved for emergencies. Most of their communication went through letters. Just gonna have to send her one when I have some time.

"Moon's pus-infected ass, huh? Should I grab the Neosporin?" Bag packed, she began to zip it up before freezing. She wanted to slap herself--had she really almost forgotten? She dropped the bag to the floor before flattening on her belly, purposely ignoring Foster's stare as she slithered under the futon, digging her fingers across the wall as they sought a familiar crack in the plaster. There.

The chunk of plaster easily came free of the wall. She dug a bit further until she felt the edges of a large manila envelope. Pulling it free, she wiggled back out and slipped it into her bag, trying to hide the action as best as possible by blocking her body from Foster with the futon and her own back.

"Right, you coming, ratty?" She heaved her backpack onto her shoulders and went to the window, sliding one leg out before turning to look back on her apartment.

She had left so many homes. It had never bothered her, granted she had spent most of her time in those temporary houses as a cat and her mind had been fully occupied by other matters. But this was her home in the real world, the place where she had discovered herself beyond the confines of her isolated birthplace...

A cloud of dust, displaced by the ruckus, flittered under the city light from her windows as she exhaled softly.

The fire escape creaked under her weight, then Foster's as he followed her out. She carefully closed the window as he leaped down the steps. She followed him through the alley, passing one last glance at the door to the bar as they carried on down the block. For the first time, neither truly spoke--though there may have been quiet muttering under someone's breath occasionally--and she found herself truly considering the young man as he passed under the streetlights ahead of her, muted shadows outlining his curls. Maybe she should have been more concerned with this broken moon they were supposed to fix, but she couldn't help the obsessive thoughts which circled over his mentions of others like them. Had there truly been that many like her, all this time? Her father had made it seem like there would only be two, maybe three others like them in the whole of the city but... What if there was a whole community all this time, a world she had been hidden from?

The number of questions on her lips grew exponentially as Foster finally stopped in front of a long, sleek... hold the fuck up, is that a fucking limo?

"Wha... is that... Wait a second, they can send a fucking limo, but can't send anyone better than a mouthy toilet brush with legs to come get me? I mean... Where are we even going? Off the Oz to meet your bullshit wizard friend?" Her tone was unfortunately at odds with the failed insult; this certainly added a level of credibility to his previous statements. Until they had wandered up the block she had still been mostly convinced she was following a manic nudist with no actual intended direction. This was certainly a welcome development, though the unexpectedness of it all began to brew a spark of cold nervousness in her gut. She carefully ran a hand through her dark hair, letting her fingers pause slightly over her mouth as she tried not to bite the broken, stubbed nail on her thumb. "This uh, this isn't some scheme to drive me away and murder me, right? You working with one of my father's guys? Because I don't know shit about that."

 

[Thropian]

Luna
Location: New York​

Luna gave a slight nod as she approached the Baron. Though no respect was required, the nod was the minimum of respect that can be given. "Baron." She said, with a polite tone and distrustful sneer. Luna knew she could be reprimanded for such actions, but the gaudyness of the Baron earned her little respect amongst the knights. If not for the priest backing her, she wouldn't be in the Order at all.

"Really? I quite like Florida, it's hot and full of beasts. A perfect hunting ground. Bit ironic, that the Sunshine State would house such darkness though." Luna countered as she accepted a glass of wine as well. She held it up in mock toast. "To the air, better that it is circulate than not." she drank without waiting on a response.

The flight was short, relatively, and Luna made no effort to carry any conversation. She instead focused on her journal of notes. All the strange night time occurrences that the Preator was looking across, but also the nightmares she hadn't shared. She knew they were important, as nothing in them scared her, but they were nightmares all the same. A professional seer should be handling them, but Luna refused to look weak. She'd solve this part herself.

-----------​

"So," Luna started, without warning, as they landed. "we know about when the leech arrived, we'll just need access to the security cameras. I have an old TSA badge, and as long as no one looks at it too hard, it should be good enough."

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

BUG

Tags: Allison @bread-and-butterflies | Location: On The Road Again Houston, TX​

Bug was quite nervous after the words left his mouth, and he very nearly called them back before the mere idea of it could be squashed like an ant under someone's shoe. Yet, he found himself unable to draw breath, to suck the letters in and swallow them whole. Unable, unwilling, but not unafraid.

Then an answer, not family, but a mentor. And it was honestly more than Bug expected, more than he had. Voice still breaking slightly, he chittered, "Obi Wan, you're my only hope." And because it was Bug, who was not very strong on self control by any stretch of the imagination, he glomped Allison as much as he was able to in the front of a car.

Arms moved to hug her, and his happy little chorus of chitters filled the car. Serenades from all manner of insect hoardes, lifted at once in celebration. He had a someone, someone who might just miss him if he were to pass from the world.

"I love you, Obi Wan Ally."

Bug didn't linger in the action long, as most tended to push him away, so he withdrew before that could happen. He wriggled around in the seat, wiping his face dry and picking up the phone with the maps app still open. "Let's go get this done!"

coded by natasha.

 

[Absurdisan]

Gavid ColdLocation: Block C​

Having been ushered into the break room he fished some berries from the fridge, popping a few into his mouth as he looked around. No great surprises, nothing really grasping his attention. His interests lay outside those of humans, what they would probably consider ‘simpler pleasures.’ The feel of the wind. The sound of trees. Retelling nhaaken stories in the dark.

Luckily it wasn’t too long before he was joined by someone. “Key,” he nodded, noting the familiar magic that followed the man. He listened to the briefing, his eyes wandering almost everywhere but Key himself before letting out a deep breath at the mention of new employees. He dutifully heard out the rest of the update before finally meeting the man’s gaze.

“Speakers’ bones, Key, we’re babysitting four?” He briefly tried to pick up any magic from the mentioned parties, but they must have been outside his reach. Whoever they were, bringing new people into the fold was always a pain - lots to explain, but too few who took the time to actually hear it. Add on the SAM protocol and it was like herding cats. Another sigh. He’d lost count of how many times he’d sighed today, the weight of the world seemed upon him. Shaking his head he looked around the room once more.

“You know me, I’m a night owl. Won’t be sleeping.” His eyes met Key’s once more. “Show me to them. If I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on them I’d best get started.” He didn’t want to sit idle in the break room, nice as it was. He’d rather be getting things done. With another nod of appreciation he added, “at least neither of us has to do this one by ourselves.”

TagsKey Out Of Words ​

 

[Britt-21]

&
Careless.

There was a dull ache in his back after he hit the floor, but Coda didn't mind it much. There had always been long stretches of time when he didn't feel real—pain was, at least, a confirmation that he was flesh and not just an amorphous concept.

"Don't patronize me." Coda stared up at Roje, hissing in defiance. His habit of rushing in without planning his attacks was a bad one, for sure, but he wasn't done yet. "Sorry to hear about your shitty job, though."

Quickly, he was on his feet, aiming another punch at her—but it was a feint, morphing halfway through into a grapple around her waist as he tried to tackle her to the ground, too. Payback.


This was a smart move from the halfling. Tricking her into thinking he was going for a punch, but turned it into a tackle that left her midsection open for him to take advantage of. She was knocked back and slammed onto the ground with the force of Coda, causing the air to escape her lungs as quickly as it came back. "Not bad, Kid." she managed to get out, looking up at him, another laugh escaping her lips "You talk about personal space, but yet you're very much in mine." after all, he was on top of her, which would have kept her down for good if she was a human, but she wasn't.

Though his face was really close to hers, no doubt he was probably having a collapse within his mind. After all, he grew shy and then angry when she went into his space. But none of this seemed to bother her. "If you wanted to kiss me, Soda, you could have just asked." she wanted to do her signature move, but she waited to see how this played out first.

Spoiler: Fight

Again with the lack of foresight. When the initial burst of adrenaline settled, Coda realized that he was, indeed, very much in Roje's personal space, and the horrified flush was already creeping back into his face.

"I—I'm not—"

Frazzled, he drew his face quickly back from hers, and the distance rekindled his embarrassment into anger. "I wasn't trying to kiss you! Don't flatter yourself!"

In that moment, the floor was the last place he wanted to be. Coda shot back up to his feet, grabbing a chair as an attempted makeshift buffer against whatever attack she threw out next.

...or maybe for a little extra personal space.


Why was this so funny? Roje had no idea but she was having a ball "Don't flatter myself? I don't need to flatter myself when I know I'm already good looking sweetheart." she got up from the ground, dusting herself off as she caught sight of him actually using a chair to use against her. There was no way she was able to get more amused than she was now as she approached Coda, grasping onto the chair and looking at him "You actually think..." she yanked the chair from his grasp and tossed it aside before speaking again "A chair can stop me? You have so much to learn, you have no idea. What happened to wanting to fight me, hm? It seems I just scared you back into that hoodie of yours."

The vampire began to close the space between the two, her walk slow and probably agonizing. "Did I scare the wittle Half Demon?"

Coda gritted his teeth, fury bubbling up within him at the figure standing at a distance. Its shape had grown foggy, now, suddenly towering over him, making him feel small. A moment ago, hadn't he been the taller one—?

The voice that emanated from it was distorted, mingling with the others screeching in his head.

What's wrong with me? Why can't I be like everyone else?

"Did I scare the wittle Half Demon?"

No! You're lying to me again! I'm sick of everyone lying to me!

Lies like—

There's nothing wrong with you.
I love you.
You're my

half-demon freak

son.

freak
freak

"Shut UP!" he bellowed, lashing out a hand at the figure's throat—

Please, .̎̂҉̬̤̘.ͥͮ̓.̖ͮ̓.͗ͨ̐.͌̂̎, you're scaring me.

He froze. The figure in front of him was once again a clear image of the vampire woman Roje.

Dazed, he dropped his hand. Only distantly was he aware that he was leaving himself foolishly open for an attack.

Roje noticed how angry he was starting to get, in fact, his demeanor changed and within the silence he broke with his own words, his hand shot out and the vampire flinched back and whacked him on the side of the head with an open hand as a counter, though with not enough force to knock him over, just to be like 'yo wtf'. He wasn't the same person just moments ago. Something was off, and she felt it "Coda." she said, her voice different from before. It was more serious, more concerned rather than in her playful mood. If she had just triggered something, then it was best she would stop her antics. Messing with someone's triggers were only useful if she was actually fighting against them and needed to throw them off their game. She grabbed his chin with her hand and made him look at her, despite his height "You cant hide this one from me, Kid. You slipped up."

The whack to the side of his head was enough to clear whatever residual ghosts were still clinging to his thoughts, and Coda winced, looking sulkily down at Roje. He hadn't wanted to actually hurt her, he had just—sort of forgotten where he was. Now she was going to think he was a freak for sure.

(Not that he cared if she thought he was a freak. Why should he?)

(Bad liar.)

Instead, she took him by the chin, forcing him to look down at her. Again, Coda squirmed—for real, what was with her and all of the touching? And why were her hands so warm? He tried to avert his gaze, but there was only so much he could do when she was preventing him from moving his head. Sullenly, he decided to look at her forehead instead of her bright, perceptive eyes.

"You—" He searched his mind for some kind of defensive retort, but the fish weren't biting. Finally, he clumsily muttered: "What, now you're my therapist?"

Roje laughed lightly "I'm not a therapist, but I know trauma when I see it." she admitted "I'm not going to prey on my partner's past and use it to my advantage to punch you. If it's serious, I dont want to push it. That's not who I am." dropping her hand, she slid both of them into her pockets, keeping her eyes locked on him. "I can be an asshole, I can tease you till the ends of the earth. But I wont prey on a past and take advantage of it unless you're an enemy."

Shit. Wasn't it a little too early for him to start spilling his guts to some vampire he just met? He didn't need her to know about his past—he shouldn't even be thinking about his past, himself. He had said himself that that person was dead now.

He gritted his teeth. Was she feeling sorry for him? Had he really put on that pitiful of a show? And why did she care? Every minute he spent around this Roje made him more confused than the last, and he wasn't sure whether to be more irritated with her or himself.

"Yeah, well, whatever," he said moodily. "If you're looking for someone to talk feelings with, look somewhere else."

Something clicked in his head then—what was that she had just said? She wasn't going to prey on—

"H-Hey, hold on a second," he said sharply, the embarrassed heat making a swift return to his face. "Since when are we partners?"​

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Devlin Wright

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris Maylee Vinegar Bees | Location: Houston, Texas​

Devlin smiled and they made small talk for the rest of dinner. He regaled them with tales of how he lived there for about twenty years now, and he was quite satisfied with the ranch living so far. He spoke of his love for the animals and farming, something about growing your own food with your own hands feeling so fulfilling, he couldn't imagine not doing it.

Shia spoke up when Devlin seemed to be drifting a bit, with whatever sights he could see. Sometimes conversation helped keep the man grounded in the hear and now, and it seemed to draw Devlin back successfully. Shia talked about the magicians they ran into when meeting Maylee, and there was a little discussion over who they might be.

Devlin took some notes while he was still present, and then dinner was cleared and desert brought out. Tilly loved baking, as was evident in the New York cheesecake, cupcakes with various flavors, and the upside down pineapple bundt cake. She at least didn't try to make homemade ice cream. That was store bought.

Devlin had to excuse himself around then, the sun was nearly gone, and so would be his ability to stay centered. Shia excused himself and helped make sure Devlin returned to his room. Then he came back down and explained, "We're just waiting now for the others to arrive. Last communication I had, we should have more tomorrow night, and then hopefully the rest by Friday."

Shia gave a bow, "Please, make yourself at home tomorrow. Feel free to check out the grounds, and if you need anything let myself or Tilly know. I will be assisting Devlin during the day as needed." Another bow, "Miss Harper, Miss Song, good night."

May 14th

The next morning would find a breakfast buffet prepared by Tilly. They would also have a notepad to jot down anything they thought they might need. Anything they didn't managed to pack, or forgot, or didn't think about previously.

Tilly also talked about some hiking trails around the ranch, which covered enough acres to be declared its own park. There were some wooded areas, some hill areas, even had their own lake on the property. Walking sticks were available as were canteens and hiking shoes.

They were encouraged to relax and enjoy the day. There might not be time for it later.

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

Roje caught onto his attitude real quick and she decided it was best she backed off. Rolling her eyes at his remark, she turned away from him and started to walk toward the Futon, only for him to call out to her again, which prompted her to pause her walk and look over her shoulder "Since Key told me you were helping with the Charge. I can only do so many things on my own. I told him that, and thus he provided me with a partner I can hopefully trust." she turned halfway to look at him a little better "You also havent pissed me off yet. So right now you're not on my shit list."

Coda frowned. Now that all of the freak-out energy had started to settle, he was left with a dull, pulsing headache certainly not mollified by Roje's bewildering behavior. Just a moment ago, she had been gleefully fighting him with her smart remarks as much as her fists, but now she was as cool and calm as a puff of early-spring air. Again, he had gotten careless, showed the dint in his armor, and he couldn't understand why she wouldn't take the chance to kick him while he was down like everyone else did. Did she pity him that much?

"What's your deal?" he shot out abruptly, his tone whet a little more by frustration than he had intended. "I just picked a fight with you, and I'm not on your shit list? Most people would be telling me to fuck off right about now."

“Fighting is a hobby of mine. Being a bouncer, boxing other people, and getting myself into Trouble was always my thing.” She offered him a grin “There’s a difference between an unwanted fight and a wanted one. I wanted you to fight me. Little disappointed it ended so soon, but, there’s always next time.” Roje was her own kind of breed. She was able to flick switches when she wanted and easily caused trouble when she felt like it. “If you’re still mad you can come at me. I wouldn’t mind continuing.”

Trouble, huh? Coda had always had a knack for it, too, but it didn't quite have the same fun connotation for him. More often than not, he found himself on the end of someone's scorn simply because he didn't know what to do or say, and in the absence of a foothold, he jumped straight to standoffish. Over time, he had learned to embrace it, to point himself out as a problem before someone else could. At least, then, it would be on his own terms.

He clenched and unclenched a fist at his side.

"Hell yeah, I'm still mad," he said grouchily, and then he threw out another punch, telegraphed enough that he knew Roje would have no problem blocking it. If the word friendly could ever be applied to either Coda or a punch, this was about as close as it was going to get.

"But at least they finally managed to hire someone who knows what a fight is," he grumbled, trying to be as obtuse as possible about offering any sort of compliment. "I was getting sick of knocking down glorified training dummies."

Roje let out a happy sigh as she turned fully and blocked his attack with ease. Her forearm being used to stop the punch before flicking his nose with her other hand “You make it sound like you have experience but you keep leaving yourself open to attacks, Soda.” She gave him some feedback. If he wanted, he could always learn from her. Though the chances on that were slim with his grumpy attitude. “I was probably one of the best people they could have hired. No one really trains for nine straight years as far as I can tell.” She then backed up a little and waited for his next move before she could use her own. She had to take advantage of the space they were in and she planned on it.

He scrunched up his nose when she flicked it, letting out an irritated snarl. She really liked to tease, didn't she?

"That's what I do," he said, swiping at his now-itching nose with the back of his hand. "Get hit." He aimed a few more swift punches as he tried to blast through her guard and then quickly dropped to the floor for a leg sweep. "I try to bleed as much as possible. Makes things more interesting." Sure, it hurt like hell when his blood scorched his own skin, too, but why bother picking a fight if he didn't want to feel the sting afterwards?

Roje let out a slight huff, using her arms to block his hits. Her forearms taking the constant hits before her legs were swept out from underneath her, causing her to slam into the ground. Now she wasn't sure if she was underestimating the demon, or being too cocky, cause she was making simple mistakes that she would usually avoid. While on the floor, however, she took advantage and grabbed his ankles, yanking on them with the intention of pulling his own feet from underneath him.

Coda hissed as he smacked into the ground, stars popping across his field of vision. She didn't mind playing dirty, that was for sure. He pulled a leg up to the knee, readying a kick to her abdomen to push her away, but then he realized she was actually fucking straddling him, and all brain function ceased as he stared with wide eyes and hot cheeks. Mundane small talk was bad enough, but all of this flirting Roje was doing—if that was what she was doing—was about as comprehensible to him as Pig Latin to a housecat.

Fucking Key. He had probably planned this from the start just to get a few laughs at his expense.

Roje had managed to maneuver herself to straddling him, noticing his movement cease, staring at her with wide eyes and widened cheeks "Well would you look at that, I just made cute little Soda blush once again." she said, leaning close to his own, "If you really want this, Soda. You're going to have to work harder than that... I like my men with more fight in them." she said with a laugh and sat back up, crossing her arms over her chest while still straddling him. Her head tilted slightly as she spoke "Are you done? Or do you want to keep going? I dont mind either way."

Cute? Did she just call him cute? At this point he was basically a bull seeing red. Sure, he was a sputtering, flustered mess, but he still had plenty of bite left.

"Like hell I'm done," he growled, readying himself to pull his head back and then smash it into her—if a headbutt was what it was going to take to get out of this, so be it. He was dizzy enough already. "And let's get one thing straight, I am NOT cute—"

Before he could make the blow, though, he heard someone at the door, and all systems abruptly switched to: FUCK.

roje and coda.

is this what they call a "meet cute"

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Morgan Feigh

Tags: Yeo-Jin Maeteris | Location: Orlando, FL​

Banks attempted to chase after the fae as well, but ended up nearly falling over Park when she tripped on the stairs. "Shit! Parks!" He did that a lot, adding an 's' to her name. Hands moved to help Park stand up and find her feet, then followed her up and out of the basement.

Morgan had just managed to open the front door when the pair of them hit the main floor. He bolted as fast as he could, but he wasn't a seasoned, trained officer. He barely made it a couple of steps out of the house, when he was tackled from behind.

When he opened his mouth to yell for help, Park covered his mouth with one gloved hand. She clamped her fingers into his cheeks, pressuring it as she said, "Shut it, or I'll tear your jugular and spread your life juice all over the ground."

Morgan knew though, this was probably his best chance to get help. So struggling, he did try to scream for help, only to see stars as he was hit in the back of the head. Another solid thud and Morgan lost consciousness.

Banks was there, checking his pulse to make sure the cat-thing was still alive. He was. "Let's get him to the car, quick. You okay, Parks?" He offered a hand up, mindful of any dust particles. They looked like there wasn't as much compared to before the collar and cuffs had been slapped in place.

"Good tackling."

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Foster Croft

Tags: Indy Rhyme | Location: Brooklyn, New York​

Foster gave Indy a big grin when they came across the limo. "Right? I mean.. wait." He frowned right afterward, but actually didn't say anything, didn't address her questions even. He just opened up the back door to the limo and entered, leaving it open for her to come in or not.

She hesitated, giving into the temptation to bite her nail as she looked quickly over her shoulder. "Well that's reassuring. Hope the news channels at least use a nice picture of me when they find my body at the bottom of the Hudson," she muttered, following him inside.

Once the door was closed, the driver greeted them by their last name. "Mister Croft, Miss Sanderson." Then the limo pulled away from the curb and drove in the direction of the airport. "There are some chilled water bottles in the console."

Foster was frowning, bag set down beside him, but he did reach into the console. He Even handed Indy one before snagging another for himself. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he took some big swigs, and just looked out the window.

After a couple of minutes though, his face turned toward Indy. There was a slight growl underneath his tone, but not an aggressive sound. "Look. I know I got a mouth. Been trying to work on it, but well hell. Saving that pizza, my ass. It was buried under three plates and water logged to boot. You weren't saving it."

Foster scoffed before continuing. "We're going to the airport, got firstfuckingclass tickets, too." Here he grinned. "Traveling in style to Houston, where the magician guy lives. He's paying for all this. And if we needs anything, he said he'll get it for us. Don't know much more yet. We'll be told shi... stuff when we get there. When the others are there, so like, it's all told just once."

He sank a little into the seat cushions, trying to get comfortable. "So.. I'm Foster, you're Indy, and let's.. hell.. get along a while, yeah?"

coded by natasha.

 

[Maeteris]

Yeo-Jin Park

“Thanks.” She tells Banks, “You wanna help me lift this punk up?” Park tries to hide the embarrassment from her voice. Going off on Banks like she had a minute ago was plain mean on her part. She tries her best to filter what goes through her mouth most of the time, barring the usual F-bombs.

When they finally load Morgan up, she quietly enters the driver side. “Hey, uh.” She starts, “I’m sorry about what happened back there.” Nails dig into the wheel. Apologies aren’t her thing, because she never has to apologize. Well, except for the infractions she’s caused with the force, but that’s another matter.

She’s known Banks for quite awhile now, and he’s usually more forgiving when it comes to her, but she’s never been truly mad at him for anything up until that point. She suppresses the bubbling sigh, can’t afford to be weak in front of the package; albeit unconscious package. She has an image to keep up.

The ride back to Block C is a little awkward with Park trying to act cool. She’s glad the job is over though, for now. “Home sweet home.” She murmurs, pulling the car up.

location: Florida • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Malika

Tags: Luna Thropian | Location: New York ✈ Miami, Florida​

Malika raised her glass in a toast to the comment about the air being better circulating than not. "Here, here. I'll drink to that." Aside from small commentary here and there, the flight to Miami was quiet, even relaxing, at least for Malika.

When they landed, and Luna offered up the idea of looking at the security footage, Malika agreed. "And I'll go flirt with some of the staff in the baggage claim. See if they took a rental car, had someone pick them up, and so on, so forth."

She tugged her handbag over a shoulder, following Luna off the plane. "Rendezvous at the passenger pickup? Are we going to have a rental, or use a taxi?" It was clear from her expression the idea of using a taxi was somewhat abhorrent. Regardless of the answer, Luna went to see about getting access to the security cameras, and Malika went to practice her charming techniques.

Luck was with Luna, no one looked too closely at the TSA badge, they hadn't updated them in a while, so it was still more than passable. Using the rough time frame of when the target arrived at the airport helped. However, it still a good while to comb through the footage.

There were several gates to cover, but after about two hours, Luna found a glimmer of what she was looking for. The camera caught a limo arriving at the private landing strip, which wasn't directly covered by any cameras. Or, if it had been, there wasn't any footage.

Two figures approached the limo from the private landing strip, one was the vampire they were tracking, accompanied by a man with spiky hair and a fondness for the color black. They both climbed into the limo, and it drove out of the airport. There was a license plate, visible when Luna zoomed in.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Block C | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Yeo-Jin Maeteris | Location: Miami, FL

By the time they reached Block C, Morgan was awake, but appeared mollified. He struggled at first to open up a door, but it was locked and could not be unlocked from the back. Cat ears flattened against his head, and he curled up in the seat as much as possible, toying with his tail.

The dust was barely showing, only a few sparkling specs occasionally caught the light, but it could have been from before as well. When they arrived, he perked up a bit and tried to figure out where they were. He spoke up for the first time since being knocked out. "Why am I being arrested?"

Banks was the one to reply, "You'll be briefed inside. Don't fight again and we'll put in a good word for you." He winked at Park where Morgan couldn't see, then got out to help escort their package. He waited for Park to get on the other side, holding one of Morgan's arms.

They walked inside and checked in at the front desk. As soon as they were verified, two of the guards walked them back to another room. "Wait here, someone will be with you momentarily." It looked like a waiting room, with seating areas, a coffee table with books and some magazines, and a Keurig coffee machine along one wall with a water cooler and sink.

Banks moved to push Morgan down in a chair, "Stay there." Then he moved to the sink to wash off his gear. "Safe than sorry." Once he washed it, he'd dry it off and put them back on.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

On the way to a Steakhouse, baby! | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Maddox Ward @KodakWolf | Location: Houston, TX

"After the fifteenth time I heard 'sparkling', I had to." Leif spoke with a fake disappointed sigh when Chase mentioned the movie that'd been a tad bit crueler to vampires than it'd been to werewolves when portraying them. Then another admittedly funny movie reference, apparently all the… wuffling, was it? … probably got on the way of Chase’s hearing.

He'd listened closely to Chase's theory, furrowed eyebrows trying to assess how much of that could be true.

"Could be, but... I don't really feel poisoned." chuckle. "Maybe being stressed by something else made your brain shut the pain off." he paused. Too soon to draw conclusions, definitely needed a second experiment. The thought made him chuckle again.

"Could always ask Shia..." maybe Shia could see something, but the idea of having said magician observe them like one does a lab rat wasn't very appealing.

Chase nodded. "Yeah, when we get to Devlin's I'll see what he thinks. Probably nothing." Legs stretched out in the space he had as he turned a focus to food. "Okay, food. Meat. Lamb. Something. How about .. this one's close." And he gave up the directions.

"Your pick, I'll pass this time." Leif would eat sometimes, even though it didn't do much for him. "It's L-E-I-F, pronounced "life", by the way." he chuckled again. One of the perks of a regular American name was not having to spell it every time. "Ironic, I know."

"Where are you originally from? That's a cool name." He spoke with another glance at the shifter, his tone now letting some genuine curiosity slip. Chase's name reminded him of his time spent with native tribes several decades ago, which sparked back good memories.

Chase tilted his head, and then wuffled with a grin at the irony in the name of the vampire. "Yes, that is... an interesting name." He gave some directions to the place he picked before answering Leif's other question. "Originally? Rocky mountains, Utah area. great forests. Soon as I became a Runner though, home became wherever I was allowed to rest my paws. Lots of couch surfing to be had, but most folks were pretty hospitable for Runners."

Leif nodded in agreement at Chase's words. Great forests indeed, that used to be much greater.

"Your name sounds native american. I spent some time with them." again his attention seemed to somewhat drift off, as if absorbed in thought, though not completely oblivious to Chase's presence, as shown by the occasional glance he'd throw the shifter. "Hati is the name of the wolf that chases the moon. Sköll chases the sun. Know anyone with that name by chance? Any siblings?"he raised an eyebrow, finding the coincidence amusing. Only then did he notice it probably sounded quite random, so he added: "It's mythology."

Chase grinned. "Yeah, heard about that one. Pretty sure heard an elder in one of the communities talk about it as well when the moon started bleeding. He was certain Hati had taken a bite out of the moon." As for the other questions, "I don't know anyone by the name, most of them have names like Bangs-Fist-On-Head, or Growls-At-Mountains. At least mine can pass for a 'normal' first name." Wuffle wuffle. "Four sisters, but I don't know where they are. They went with my mother. As the male, I was sent to my father's."

Leif grinned at the elder's thought that'd crossed his mind aswell. "Oh, I like it.David's a lame name. Couple million David Smiths walking around, another million Johns, and so on. But those are unique."

"So how did you come across Devlin, couch surfing then?" He added after a pause.

Chase laughed at the lame name bit, and of course wuffled a couple of times. "Well, first Shia found me. He was the first, I suppose, who was contacted by Devlin. Then we met up at Devlin's house. Real nice place, ranch with crops and everything. And then we found Leviathan and Bug." He wuffled a lot then. "Bug is ... a character. It's entertaining to see people meeting him for the first time."

The mention of a ranch gave Leif a pleasantly surprised expression. He was expecting maybe a penthouse, mansion, lavish estate, anything of the sort. Not really a specific reason why, but he’d pictured Devlin as some rich fancy pants that fooled around with magic in his (lots of) spare time. So far, he wasn’t really that concerned with whether Devlin actually knew how to fix the moon, as something’s better than nothing. Worth a try, anyway.

A ranch sounded way friendlier, and while Leif had lived in all sorts of different conditions over his rather long lifetime, the last decades as a writer in the vast piece of land in the Wyoming wilderness had been a rewarding break from other, more chaotic occupations he’d had.

“Bug? I’ll keep that in mind.” He spoke with a small smile. He could only guess what Bug was, given the name.

“I used to keep dog treats in the car, but I haven’t had a dog in a while, so… let’s just get to this steakhouse.” Leif tossed a cautious glance at Chase to assess whether calling him a dog would be going too far, and stepped on the gas. It wasn’t long until they were pulling over into the steakhouse parking lot. The upside of switching night and day was being able to have dinner food for breakfast, if you actually ate any food, that was.

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

Winnie shivered, though it wasn't cold in the room—the air was so blandly conditioned that she didn't feel it. Everything in the room, in fact, seemed tailored to melt into its own muted tones, so plain as to trick the eye into seeing nothing. The walls, the carpet, the cots. Even Winnie herself.

She drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them there, her glazed eyes tracing a fat bruise dripping down her knee like plum juice set into a tablecloth. It was with her bruises that she most reliably counted the days. That one—it looked about a week old; the tender spot on her elbow was fresh. Across her body, dusting her like a light pox, were myriad little discolored shadows where bruises had once been and never quite managed to find the way out.

There is no way out.

She wasn't unaccustomed to a bedroom feeling more like a prison, of course. The thin, stiff cot she perched atop was far more plainly dressed than the gaudy, stained pink sheets of the bed she had once shared with her sister, but their essence was the same. A bed, more often than not, was a mouth, its frame stretching and creaking as it contemplated biting down.

All at once, the lights flared to life, and Winnie couldn't withhold a little yelp, burying her face deep within the shade of her knees. A thin, scraping sound issued from the door, and Winnie's mind danced with visions of a toothy, hungry beast come at last to devour her.

She peeked out from behind her knees, the ragged ends of her hair trembling, and saw a small tray of food inviting her like a trap would a mouse. Numbly, she stared at it—when was the last time she had eaten? Did she feel hungry? Her body felt so distant as to be someone else's, a plastic doll's—and then she eased herself carefully off of the cot, crouching on the soft, pallid carpet. Forgoing use of her prosthetic limb (what was the use when she wasn't going anywhere except this room?), Winnie crawled across the room to the tray of food at the door, and she stared at the fatty sausages, Ticonderoga-yellow eggs, and rusty brown toast as if they were trinkets from another world.

For a moment, her hand hovered over the gummy mass of eggs in temptation, but then she drew it sharply back as if bitten. She had not done what she was supposed to do. She had not been a good girl. Only good girls deserved to eat.

Swiftly, as if expecting someone to catch her in the act, Winnie swiped up the thermos of water and scooted back to the familiarity of her cot, resting her back up against it as her good leg stretched out on the floor in front of her.

Only good girls deserved to eat, but bad girls weren't allowed to die, so she let tiny sips of water wet her Jordan-desert lips. Droplets scurried down her chin and plopped tiny circles on the lap of her pale shift dress, staining it like tears.

That girl—she had been asked to bring that girl back, hadn't she?

(Who had asked her? Her mistress? Auntie...?)

Someone had been with her. A ghostly smile tugged at her memory, a residual scent of old leather.

Kessler...?

Who was Kessler? She couldn't remember his face, but if she could remember his name, he must have been important. He was dead, she thought decisively and without quite knowing why. He must be dead. It was probably better for him if he was dead.

And that girl—Winnie couldn't remember her face, either, or her name, only quick snapshots of a warm house, a couple with hands linked, a family just out of her reach. Tantalus's pool of water. All she could really remember was that that girl had been good, and she was bad, and between the two of them, Winnie wasn't sure which she hated more.

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

[Vinegar Bees]

For a while, she found herself entranced by the dinner's spell—warm, golden light bathed the windowed room as utensils clinked against dishes and voices blended together, some of them (Tilly's) warmer and more comfortable than others (Maylee's own—for her part, Evelyn didn't make much conversation). After a while, though, as the sun began to sink in the sky and the taste of the food faded to a memory on her tongue, Maylee felt the image before her begin to crack like a thin sheet of ice atop a lake.

She was having dinner, really having dinner with people instead of the lonely takeout nights she had gotten accustomed to at her now-abandoned apartment. There were smiles, there was life; and all at once, Maylee imagined herself much smaller, her hands gripping a set of utensils she hadn't yet grown into as she fumbled to twist the spaghetti she had helped Papa make around her fork.

For a brief moment, Devlin and Shia and Evelyn and Tilly were gone, swept away as easily as leaves in the wind, and Papa and Dad and her brother were passing the potatoes along their line of dishes, white teeth flashing in comfortable grins.

But then a little bead of red dropped onto the tray of potatoes, and suddenly Papa was smiling through the blood rushing through his teeth, and Dad was laughing through the hole torn in his throat, and her brother was—

Maylee pressed a hand firmly over her mouth, willing herself to breathe slowly, steadily. She was in Devlin's kitchen, she reminded herself, and she must not let them see that she was afraid.

Through strain, Maylee managed to hold herself together while they finished up dessert and discussed the group's plans for the next few days. She gritted her teeth as she thanked Tilly for the meal and awkwardly bode Evelyn and Shia good night, and she could feel her breath lurching within her chest as she went briskly to her room, only letting it burst out in an anguished cry when she had shut the door behind her.

For a moment, Maylee simply leaned back against the door, her head in her hands, and then she approached her bed and plucked her rabbit up from the sheets and squeezed it to her chest as if it were a vital organ.

Save your tears for your pillow, she had told herself before. And she did.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯​

The next day found Maylee making her way through a wooded trail that Tilly had recommended. There was precious little time to relax, she had explained, and Maylee found herself wondering how the doting woman expected her to rest at all. She had finally arrived at this strange destination, and everything was still cloaked in mystery like a fog swallowing up a thicket of trees.

Be patient, she had told herself, again and again, but for the moment, she needed to do something a little more than just waiting.

Her boots scuffed against wayward leaves as Maylee hiked up to a particularly remote part of the trail, glancing cautiously over her shoulder to check whether Devlin's ranch house was still within view. Satisfied that she had put sufficient distance between herself and the others, Maylee shed her jacket and then began to wriggle out of her tank top and shorts, placing them in a careful pile on the bed of pine needles below. Discarding her boots and working the dirt between her toes, Maylee shut her eyes and let out a long, heavy breath. As a girl, when she had been troubled, she had never had to leave her own skin to feel better. Now, though, there were certain tensions she couldn't work out herself. Only the wolf could.

Maylee lowered herself to a crouch and rolled her neck, loosening a series of small snaps within. Another breath, gritted teeth, and then she finally let herself feel everything that had been wrestling through her mind over the last few days: all of the confusion, the anger, the fear—

—and even the hope.

A thick growl had sounded from within her throat, and white-hot pain flashed behind her eyes as she felt her bones snap and twist into feral shapes. Her teeth cracked grotesquely as they stretched themselves thick and sharp, and her skin was ablaze as deep brown fur lanced through it like thousands of tiny knives. The fur coursed down her back, her legs, in between her toes, so thick and long around the neck that it nearly resembled quills. There was pain in the transformation, rending and writhing, but there was also a fevered exhilaration, an electricity in her blood as she opened her wolf eyes and saw the forest, trees be damned.

There was no telling what was coming in the next few days. She would need to be strong. But for now, she needed to let herself be a little wild, too.

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Block C | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Park Maeteris | Mentions: Roje Britt-21 Coda Vinegar Bees
Location: Miami, FL

Key had been notified the moment there was a kerfuffle in the room with Roje and Coda. He had every intention of letting it ride out for maybe ten minutes, then going in to stop it. Only he became distracted by the arrival of Banks, Park and the cat Fae.

Well, the guard would listen to make sure no one killed the other, hopefully. Key diverted his path to where they placed the others. He stood outside a moment, listening obviously, and could hear the male using the sink.

Key took a breath, and then entered, already talking. "How are the control units working?" Chin held up, he was their superior, and that carried a certain responsibility to look the part, act the part, be the part.

Shaded eyes turned toward to look at each one in turn, settling on the creature on the couch. "How did the retrieval go?" Okay, he should introduce himself. "I'm Key. The one you are reporting to for the duration of this mission."

However, it was important he have a report on the collar and cuffs, and their effectiveness. "Any incidents?" Key's face turned to look at Park, then Banks, waiting for them to speak, though he hadn't really given them a chance until then.

coded by natasha.

 

[AsherMasher]

Clementine Holt​

A rush of adrenaline courses through Clementine’s veins as she shot straight up in her bed. Breathing heavily, she looked frantically around her room for a source of danger. After a couple of moments she felt no disturbance other than her racing heartbeat. She groaned as she leaned back into the plush pillows against the bed’s headboard. God damn nightmares.

Clementine rubbed her tired eyes and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She had about an hour before she had to get up for school, but she knew sleep would not find her again. As she lay back, a glimmer of moonlight reflected off something on her neck. In a sleepy daze, Clementine reached out to rub her neck believing she was still in a dream. She was surprised to feel a weight in her pressed against her fingertips that she did not remember being there. Curious, she looked down and noticed her mother’s pendant laying innocently against her chest. That’s weird, she thought to herself. Clementine couldn’t recall taking the sacred pendant out of its hiding place, or placing it on her neck. Ugh. Don’t tell me I’m starting to sleep walk too. Clementine groaned in annoyance at her unpleasant sleeping habits and threw the blankets off. She might as well start her day early.

The morning seemed to monotonously drag by as it did every day. Clementine ate breakfast, kissed her grandparents goodbye, and went off to school. Midterms were coming up right? Clementine thought. She should probably start studying more before her nightmares got worse. Lunch came and went, but with a strange feeling on unease. This feeling seemed to follow her as she walked across the school parking lot on her normal walk home from school. A strong sense of deja vu stopped her in her tracks. Clementine’s eyebrows knitted together I’m confusion as she stared at an empty spot in the lot. A shiver ran up her spine as she tried to recall why she stopped there. Without thinking, Clementine began walking a different route home from school that day.

“I really need more sleep,” she murmured to herself as she trekked home for the day.