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Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Leviathan Black



Levi wasn't one for drinking, not of age anyway, but he did grab a cold bottle of water. He felt very energetic, couldn't stop moving some part of his body. Whether it was a tap of a foot, or fingers that toyed with the hem of his flannel over-shirt, Levi usually had to keep moving in some fashion if he wasn't indulging in a siesta. And tonight it was even more pronounced.

Maybe it was the relief of finally making it back, or the knowledge they were about to find out more. Levi felt like he was part of a superhero group or something, and it was a pretty heady feeling for a seventeen year old. Who needed more schooling when they could save the moon? Chuff.

When the secret passageway opened up, he couldn't help but whisper, "Coooooool." Green eyes darted about, wondering if more books hid even more secret tunnels. Oh, wouldn't he love the chance to find out. Now that he knew of the one, the possibilities were endless!

He did his best to help Shia keep Bug focused, knowing the man had attention issues that greatly outweighed Levi's own tendencies. However, when the scent of petrichor hit, Levi gave a rumble as close to a purr as he could get. He loved the rain, and the smell of it even more so. Oh, he had the urge to cat out and explore, but everyone was being directed to the sitting area. Ptth ptth!

After directing Bug to sit, Levi perched on the arm of the chair. Though, he could hardly sit still and wound up standing a moment or two later. A near constant shifting of his weight from one foot to the other followed.

He listened to what Devlin had to say, and it made his grin grow until his cheeks hurt. They were going to learn secrets tonight! It was going to be exciting to know what all these new faces could do, and what they had to add to the superhero group.

Everything paled in Devlin's revelation. Like colors in the world seemed to actually fade, muted, lines blurred until all there was, was the dragon. A dragon. Levi grew still and wide eyed. Yet in his head, his comic book, superhero loving self was screaming in glee. And all he could think in that moment was a line from a movie, and he very nearly said it out loud.

Avengers, assemble!
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Block C | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Britt-21 Britt-21
Location: Miami, FL

Key's expression remained mostly neutral behind those tinted shades. He noted down what Roje experienced as he remarked on the suppression unit. "We haven't had a duster with the all type of dust before. Some adjustments are expected."

As for what he planned on doing, he tucked the notes away first, then looked to Roje. "I will be making sure everyone and their charge has a room for the night. Then I will be making sure the flight tomorrow is adequately prepared and stocked for the larger crew, it is more than was originally scheduled."

It was like reading off a laundry list of to do items. "Then I will be letting our technicians know about the dust leak, and they will work on an adjustment to be applied to the unit before we depart for the airport tomorrow. Then I hope to get some sleep myself, and some food."

Which helped him remember, "When you need more food or nourishment, you can let the personnel outside the door know and it will be retrieved." Not that the guard would be doing it himself, but would radio it in and have the needed items delivered.

There was the smallest motion of his head as he looked toward the cat-fae. "Roje is in charge of your well being. It would be in your best interests to listen to what she has to say. Yes? Everyone will be briefed in the morning after breakfast, and before we leave for the airport."

And Key was ready to leave. "Get some sleep."


coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Chase Moon



Chase was just happy to be there, and to have some of Tilly's food. He couldn't even wait to be seated before he began to steal little bits of the food. Left him with a grinning, chipmunk cheek kind of look if anyone caught him in the act. Wuffling gave him away more often than not though, but Chase didn't really mind.

When the cavern was revealed, food was temporarily forgotten in favor of enjoying the scenery. "Whoa..." Wuffle. A wolfish grin was flashed toward Maddox with a bit of an eyebrow wriggle, mouthing "Cool, right?" Though he was back on track with his plate of food as soon as he claimed a seat.

Chase was definitely in tune with his wolf side, had spent the majority of his years so far as a wolf. So to say he wolfed his food down was no exaggeration. He did just that, with an ample amount of quiet wuffling. A couple of more enthusiastic sounds escaped when he was really enjoying Tilly's cooking, but nothing that disrupted Devlin's speech.

When the big reveal occurred, the fact Chase stopped eating, in favor of staring at the dragon before them, revealed he hadn't a clue prior to this moment. Seeing a dragon was both awe inspiring, and downright terrifying. For Chase, the terror had a slightly stronger hold.

Thankfully, Chase had been eating off the plate set on the coffee table, so there wasn't a shattering of a plate, or spilling of food when Chase changed forms. Chase was a little faster than most in the transformation. It took a minute, but may have been perceived as a blinking of the eye with everyone's main focus being, rightly so, on the dragon.

The white wolf ducked behind one of the sofas with a heavy whine. Dragons were like on top of the pyramid in Chase's mind, and he'd rather not get gobbled up thank you very much. Only, a moment later, the wolf peeked out from behind the couch, ears perked forward, bushy tail not quite sure it wanted to wag just yet. Dragons were still cool. Terrifying, but cool.

Wuffle.
coded by natasha.
 
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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Devlin Wright



Devlin waited about five minutes, moving around slightly, showing off (not going to lie). It was nice to be himself, and he wanted to make sure the reality of it sank in past any initial shock. Was that the shattering of a glass he heard? Chuckle.

When he changed back to his human form, the light transformation was the same. Still chuckling, Devlin walked back toward the group. The warm smile couldn't be held back, he really hoped it hadn't been a mistake to reveal his secrets.

"Well, you now know my true self. I showed this to you as a measure of good will. And faith in the purpose I called everyone here for. To save the world. If the moon falls, the world will end. And.. I'm rather fond of this world." Devlin moved to take one of the still empty seats with a bit of a heavy sigh.

"I would appreciate if everyone here would, in the very least, introduce yourself to the group. If you have things you'd rather not reveal, that is your choice." Devlin rubbed his face once, to keep himself focused. "This isn't going to be easy, by any means. And there is a possibility that not everyone here will come back home the same, and possibly not at all. I hope by your coming here, you are committing to this group."

Devlin made a point to look at everyone gathered, one by one, looking to their fazes ... and muzzle. Devlin grinned and winked at the white wolf, who wagged his tail in response. "I'll save the doom and gloom for after everyone has had a chance to introduce themselves. So, who's next?"
coded by natasha.
 

"Oh, wow." Indy knelt to the ground, grabbing her discarded bloody clothing. "A true rebel. Let me guess, you jumped the gates for the new My Chemical Romance reunion tour because tickets are for losers? Here, guard, why don't you do your charge a favor and get these washed for me." She tossed the bundle at the looming, seething teen before crossing the floor to the bag Key had dropped. There were a few shirts and pants in various sizes. She dug through, chancing a glance at Foster. He was frozen, staring blankly ahead as the guy--Banks--was trying to encourage Winnie to speak to him.

Indy shrugged into a long-sleeved shirt, shivering lightly as the fabric pressed against her chilled skin. Jeans followed, her wet legs sticking as she tried to shimmy into them without looking too much like an idiot. It was funny how your body tends to so quickly adjust to the sensation of dirty, blood-soaked fabric; even through the discomfort of her wet underclothes sticking to her skin and soaking through the new, clean clothes, Indy had to fight the desire to pull on more layers. Besides, the cold chill of the cuffs on her neck and wrists were an ever-present reminder; small comforts weren't made here.

Both hands full of the extra clothes, she dropped a set beside Winnie as she shrugged past the abrasive woman standing in front of Foster, ignoring Coda the entire way. His eyes were empty. Every feature of his face was exaggerated with shock, she doubted he had even heard any of the previous goings-on within the last few minutes. Park looked like a sergeant from a shitty military movie, her tone stern and directive as she demanded Foster "gear up." Like we're your fucking soldiers.

Indy ignored her, too. Her back to the woman, Indy pushed the last bundle of clothes at the rigid Foster, eyes searching his. "Beginning to think you like being naked." Her tone was flat, but her hand lingered on his arm. Keep it the fuck together, man.

Escaping wouldn't be easy alone, much less dragging a self-loathing vampire and a catatonic rainforest raccoon along for the ride. If Winnie was a chance at getting out, she needed Foster to know where to go next. Or at least, tell her where to go next. Somehow, she got the feeling her city days were a ways behind her now.
 

Roje.png
Interactions: Out Of Words Out Of Words | Location: Block C

You couldn't have adjusted them to be strong from the way beginning? she thought to herself. This man takes precautions but yet doesn't think to have the damn thing improved before putting it on her charge. As she listened to his list of shit to do, she nodded and spoke "Sounds like we have an eventful day tomorrow." she said, her hands sliding into the back pockets of her black jeans and watched him as he got ready to leave, "Awww, playtime is over already? I thought you would have stuck around for a little longer." teased Roje with a laugh and a shake of her head before she thought of the whole Moon shit and decided to ask about it "Yo Key," said Roje as she walked over to him, tilting her head slightly "Does he know what we're on about? Or is he staying in the dark?" she knew Morgan was in the room and could hear her no doubt, but quite frankly she didn't care. Regardless of what her boss's answer would be, she would tell the kitten all about the bleeding moon and all that shit. No one could really keep her mouth shut anyways, not unless they had an upper hand.

As far as she knew, Key had nothing but that magical power he kept showing off when they had met earlier today. Roje already learned not to try to test this guy just because she didn't know what she was up against. As she stood close to him, she was picking up faint smells of other supernaturals. But didn't think much of it due to being in a facility that probably had more people than she had seen once before. Glancing at Morg, her thoughts continued to race, cogs in her mind beginning to turn as she tried to think about the very situation she was in. That kid had no idea she was forced into this as much as he was just because she wanted a ring to allow her into the daylight. Though she came more willingly and didn't run into the issue of getting cuffed. Even so, she would have broken those things. The more she thought about it, the more her mind began to go. If she did try to run, would Key have done something to keep her from doing so? Break an Ankle? Snap her neck to keep her out for a few hours?

Man she was in some deep shit that she probably should have fought to get out of. Mother Fucker. she thought to herself. Trouble always came after Roje, but it was mutual as she always liked to go after trouble, even for the betterment of others. She shifted her stance, looking at the spikes of Key's hair. Should've named him Sonic. Damn, missed that shot. his hair was spiky enough to probably poke someone's eye out. The amount of gel that was probably used must have been at least a full container... How come she really didn't notice this before?​
 


Maylee didn't swear much. It wasn't really purposeful—she didn't have any moral objections to swearing or anything silly like that—more a force of habit. In their childhood home, Dad had been known for his vivid language, and after a certain point, Papa had instated a 'swear jar'—a quarter for each unnecessary expletive. Dad, of course, had seized the opportunity to invent his own language of increasingly-creative swear substitutions. Bolsheviks for bullshit had been one of her personal favorites.

Sometimes, though, there were feelings only a proper swear could convey.

"Holy shit..."

She was far from the only one to vocalize such sentiment. While some, like Allison, somehow managed to keep their cool—more evidence in Maylee's mind of the woman's hard-won wisdom—most either uttered or displayed some sign of shock. The young man who had arrived with Leif had had such a fright that he immediately revealed himself as a shifter (oh, another wolf, she thought with something akin to relief); even Leif himself, whom she had always known to be downright unflappable, had dropped his glass of liquor and was beginning to sweep up the shards with his boot. Maylee hurried to his side and began collecting as many fragments as she could herself—Leif didn't really need the help, she was sure, but it gave her frenzied mind something to do.

Only a few moments later, Devlin had shifted back to his human form (his true form? Or was the dragon the real one and the human skin merely that—a skin?), moving to take a seat with what seemed to be a trace of exhaustion in his limbs. To her horror, he revealed that the eerie phenomenon afflicting the moon could spell the end of the world—had she really expected anything else?—but before he could expound on the doom and gloom, Devlin urged the others to introduce themselves as he had. The implication was clear: coming from a man who had just revealed himself as a dragon, it was easy to understand that Devlin was referring to more than just names.

Maylee looked around the room, trying to gauge the emotions on the others' faces. Surely they all had secrets they would feel safer keeping to themselves, but—Devlin's unveiling of his identity proved that he had not been speaking emptily of trust. So who was going to bite the bullet first—?

The silence was swiftly filled by the pounding of Maylee's heart as she realized no one was speaking up, everyone apparently waiting for someone else to go first. The reminder of what she had to reveal crawled cold and heavy down her back, and all at once she began to second-guess her decision to tell the group altogether. Sure, she had already told some of them—but this time she stood before the entire group, one of which had revealed himself to be of an ancient and highly sought-after race. Surely she could trust those she had told to spread the word...?

Maylee gritted her teeth. No. Be scared, but don't be a coward.

Her mouth was sandpaper-dry as she parted her lips, and she almost feared her voice would fail before she could force the words out:

"I—I'll go first. Though, um, I'm not as exciting as Devlin."

She gave a wry little laugh and winced inwardly—she hadn't been able to smile or laugh convincingly in a long while, and she could only hope the sound wasn't too awkward. Predictably, several heads turned to look at her, and Maylee felt the heat of the spotlight washing through her veins. Her heart perched high up in her throat, and she tilted her chin back and willfully squared her shoulders to steel herself.

"My name is Maylee. Maylee Song. I—there's one thing I need to share right away. It's... important."

This was all more than a little surreal, a circle of unfamiliar faces waiting on her to speak, and Maylee found herself reminded of that grief counseling group Ms. Baker had gently suggested after she began to notice some of Maylee's less-than-healthy ways of coping. She hadn't been able to stomach it—gathering people together for something so painful was merely salt in everyone's wounds, and this strange, prolonged death of the moon the current group was assembled for wasn't exactly a party, either. Feverishly, Maylee searched the crowd for a friendly face. Leif—he didn't know what she had been up to in the last three years, and so shame drew her eyes away from his. Evelyn—she had known her longer than most standing before her, had already told her about her occupation, but while the elegant elf woman was by no means an enemy, she was certainly still an enigma. Ultimately, Maylee found her gaze landing on Shia, who had grabbed her beloved rabbit for her on the precipice of their exit from her apartment.

"I'm a hunter," she said, swallowing hard. "So... I understand if that makes you... wary of me. I don't—" She frowned, the blood buzzing dizzily in her ears. "I don't hunt for pleasure, or, um, money. I don't go after anyone unless they've harmed an innocent first. To be honest..."

She was powerless to stop the words that came out next, just as she had been powerless to stop the one they described.

"...I became a hunter because of one person. And I kept seeing more people like him—people who just hurt, everywhere they go. That's who I hunt. But—"

A sharp breath, an attempt to fill her lungs with steel. "Having a moral compass doesn't mean I'm not a hunter. And I know that might be... weird. Or uncomfortable. So, um, I needed to make sure you all knew—right away."

Shit. Part of her wanted to take a step back, carefully gauge the group's reactions, but she had to share the rest of herself, didn't she? At least, by comparison, this truth was more embarrassing than conflict-generating.

"Um... like I said, I'm not a dragon. I'm a shifter, but... not for a long time." She was achingly aware of Leif's presence in the crowd. She would have preferred for him to find out a different way, but... well, the world was at stake. "I turned three years ago. Found a werewolf, he bit me, and I've been a shifter since then."

Surely that was enough? She didn't need to tell them why she had gotten herself turned, didn't need to open those wounds, right?

"So... yeah. I can turn into a wolf." Maylee glanced briefly at the white wolf curiously watching the proceedings. She then splayed her hands out in front of her, clenched them into fists, and gritted her teeth through the sting as fur and claws pushed through, twisting her hands into heavy paws.

"I... I can't make a full transformation without losing my clothes," she said, a touch more bashfully than she would have liked. "So... I hope you'll take my word for it—for now, at least."

That was it, then, wasn't it? Her heart was still a runaway train within her breast, but it was done. Maylee took a step back, slipping her hand into her jacket pocket and fingering the dewy bottle of beer for a touch of comfort.

"Like I said, I've only been a shifter for three years. So I may not be as... useful as some of you." Her arm withdrew from her pocket and folded with the other across her midsection. "But I swear I will do whatever is in my power... even if my power isn't enough."

There was a sudden pull within her chest, and Maylee recalled that ominous remark Devlin had just made: something about the possibility of them not being able to return home. She had already decided she couldn't call herself daughter unless she won justice for Dad and Papa. But if she died on this mission, before she had a chance to confront their killer...?

I'll find a way, she decided. I'll find a way to do both.

Maylee took another sharp breath, her brow hardening in resolve. "And... I don't have a home, just a little apartment. So if I don't come back from whatever lies ahead—so be it."


maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 
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Shia D'Shire

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Maeteris Maeteris bread-and-butterflies bread-and-butterflies Thropian Thropian KodakWolf KodakWolf ⬇
Location: Wright Wranch - Houston, TX​


Shia grinned when Maylee looked his way, he tried to keep his expression encouraging. Somehow, he felt more at home here and was more free with his expressions.

He was rather interested in the part about Maylee finding a werewolf and being turned into a shifter. It wasn't clear if Maylee had wanted to find the werewolf, or had been found by a werewolf. Shia filed it away for the time being. Now was not the place to ask questions.

The partial transformation also drew his interest. As long as he's known Chase, not very long, but he hadn't seen Chase partially shift. His knowledge seeking mind wanted to know if it was possible with all shifters, or just unique to the circumstance, or individual. Again, filed away for later.

When Maylee was done, Shia moved to stand in front of the group. "Thank you, Maylee. Again, I appreciate your honesty." A little smile crossed his face as he dipped his head in a bow.

"I'm Shia, and.." He glanced to Maylee and Evelyn. "I apologize for not being upfront with everything. As you can see, there were reasons, but I do still apologize for withholding the truth." Another bow, of respect, and he looked at the others.

"I have resided with Devlin off and on for a while now. He is a mentor to me. And, to be honest, very much a father figure." He paused for a moment, as if gathering his words. "From magic and more, he has taught me more than anyone else. And.. while I am most definitely not a dragon.."

Shia took a couple steps backward. "I would be classified as a wyvern." When he changed, it was with a swirling mix of purple and teal, like a vortex of color blurring together and then separating again until said wyvern stood in his place.

It was much, much smaller than Devlin. About the size of a large Clydesdale, mostly black, with almost luminescent teal and purple feathers along its chest and tail fan. The wings were membrane, not feather, and the face bore markings in white, purple and teal. It looked soft to touch, where the feathers were. The wyvern stood on two legs while using talons along the top of its wings as 'hands' to help steady his balance.

Devlin spoke up while Shia gave them a moment to see the wyvern form. "I came across an egg when I was exploring these very caverns. Some areas had been blocked off, and well, color me surprised when the egg proved to be viable and hatched."

Shia returned to his human form, which was a different show than changing to the wyvern. It looked more like the creature 'melted' into the human shape everyone knew as Shia. Another bow, this one at the waist, as he moved to return to his seat. "Such secrets revealed today. Please remember, tomorrow night we will be having quite a feast, and plenty of time for personal questions. I will be glad to answer any that I can." He knew they had questions, and they should.

"Next?"
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Block C | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Britt-21 Britt-21
Location: Miami, FL

Key glanced over to the cat with what looked to be a frown behind his shades. "It would have fallen to Park and Banks when they picked him up. Hm. Feel free to give him information if you wish. He has an instrumental part in helping us to take care of the moon."

When someone was taller than him, and closer than a foot, Key never looked up. He simply refocused his gaze somewhere else at eye level. A shoulder, the chin, or even something behind the person. Though closer than a foot, and the other person would start to have the sensation of a static shock creeping along their skin, just waiting for a charge to set it off. It would also be slightly colder the closer one became, but truth be told, Key didn't allow for someone to occupy his personal space for long. At the moment, Roje had not yet breached that distance.

"If you need anything else, please be sure to let the man at the door know." And that was Key's way of saying he had to go. Still a lot of stuff to do before their flight in the morning. Not to mention making sure they had something setup for breakfast and time given for everyone to eat before leaving.


coded by natasha.
 

Roje.png
Interactions: Out Of Words Out Of Words | Location: Block C

Nodding in confirmation, she watched him finally leave the room. Only leaving both herself and Morgan in the room. "Alright kid." she said, staring at the door in front of her, making sure that Key wasn't still out there before turning around and making her way over to the kitten, grabbing a chair in the process and placing it in front of him once she was close enough before taking her seat "I know I seem all big and scary but I need you to listen." she crossed her arms and sighed, tilting her back for a second before bringing it back and looking him over "I'm forced into this as much as you are. Except I came a little more willingly so I wouldn't have to deal with those toys you have on you." she gestured to his collar and cuffs "Apparently you're needed to help save the moon, since it has like this whole red vibe going on at night. If we don't save it over the course of however long, the whole world just basically dies." she then leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she laced her hands together "My information is just as lacking as your own, Kitten. I'm only here because of a selfish deal I made."

Looking at him, her hazel eyes studied him, especially with the glasses on. "Tell me what happened on your end. What changed?" if there was one person she would get information out of, it would be Morgan. "The more info, the better." she then looked over her shoulder for a brief second before looking back, lowering her tone "Whatever we say, will stay between us. You hear me?" she just really hoped there was nothing "I may seem like I'm, on the 'bad side' for you being here this way, but I want to be on the right side as much as the next person. I want to save the moon and this planet." she was also supposed to protect him with her life. She just hoped that the Coven didn't need a supernatural sacrifice to save the world... "Mother Fucker..." she said under her breath and bit her lip Is that why If he dies, I die too? But what would killing me accomplish anyway? Fucking dammit it's like that whole situation all over again with Dean... the last thing that the vampire needed right now. Now everything was dependent on whether he would believe her or not. If he didn't, then she would have to try some other kind of way.

Telling weaknesses, or something just to get the kid to trust her. If one of her many theories were confirmed just a little bit, then things were going to change and plans were going to have to be made. All of her theories just seemed absurd, but with enough show binging, movie watching... No doubt some of that garbage is true to an extent. In the morning she was going to meet these new people that Key mentioned. Hopefully they knew more than what she did just so she had some damn answers.​
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Morgan Feigh

Tags: Roje Britt-21 Britt-21 ⬇
Location: Block C - Miami, FL​


Morgan was still using the futon as some type of protection barrier, as he grew more anxious once he was left along with Roje. Ears flattened initially when she focused on him, but as she talked, they slowly relaxed. Occasionally one twitched, or flicked toward whatever he thought he heard.

Asked about what changed, in connection with the bleeding moon, Morgan was confused. He slowly slipped back over the end of the futon to settle into a crouching position rather than an outright sit. Tail swished slowly behind with an irritated jerk now and then.

"I don't know.. I.." He was giving it some serious thought. "I had more bad dreams than usual. And .." His eyes drifted about the room as he fought to recall anything different as of late. "I can't stop the dust. Like before it was just when I felt strong emotions. But.. now it's with the smallest of feelings."

It was difficult to explain. "Like, I'd get a small temporary sad thought or whatever, and like.. there was dust falling before I even registered it was a sad thought." He kept on biting on his lower lip, one fang catching it again and again. "Brandon got mad a lot more because of it."

Morgan shrank a little deeper into the futon. "Are.. are you guys really cops?" He knew the answer, but still had a sliver of hope he was wrong.
coded by natasha.
 

Roje.png
Interaction: Out Of Words Out Of Words | Location: Block C

Thank God that this kid actually opened up a little bit to her. There was no teeth that she had to pull and scare the guy. Taking in everything he was saying, his last question only made her release a slight laugh "If I was a cop, I would have been fired many times just because of how my actions." to know that he was told that, kinda irked her "I don't 100% know if the two that brought you are actual cops. But I know for a fact you're not in some kind of Police HQ." his nervousness caused him to bite on his lip constantly, and if he wasn't careful, he could attract unwanted attention outside. This was a habit she had to help him stop at one point or another. Sighing, she spoke "Listen, I wont get mad as long as you listen to me and don't touch me with your dust. If you want me to protect you with my full attention, then you cant let it touch me." even if it meant her having to get his ass out of the Coven's custody. "Honestly I thought you'd be the bratty type and try to fight me tooth and nail. It seems I don't have to resort to the worst I can do."

"You should know that I'm a Vampire. Though, don't freak out, biting people isn't usually my thing unless I'm using it for other purposes." Tapping her foot, she continued "You can do what you want in this room, you can let out your frustrations on me if you want by throwing a punch, or go get some food, go to the bathroom, whatever. I'm not keeping you confined only on that futon. Though don't open that door, I don't know what the guards are capable of, nor do I know what they're equipped with." she warned, knowing if he got any bright ideas she didn't want him to go and get himself hurt. But by his position on the futon, Roje assumed he didn't have much energy to go on ahead and try some sly moves. So hopefully he took the warning into consideration to avoid trouble. Leaning back in her chair again, she crossed one leg over the other, her eyes watching his furry ears and the tail she seemed to catch a few times.​
 


Winnie did her best to keep her knees from trembling as she looked up at Banks. By default, she avoided eye contact unless absolutely necessary, but Banks was calm enough in the moment that she was able to catch a swift glimpse without being overwhelmed.

"Hello, Banks," she said in a small, polite voice.

That's your last name, right?​

Again, something tore through her brain with a lancet of pain: a memory? How could she remember something that had never happened?

"My... my name is Winnie," she mumbled, and then, scanning her gaze across the room, "that's Indy... and that's Foster."

It was a small, feeble attempt, but there remained a tiny seed of hope within her that things might run a little kinder if the agents knew them as names and not merely strangers in handcuffs.

"Oh, and, um—" It was laborious, like cutting into hot wax, but she managed to force a small, pleasant smile to her cheeks. "I've already eaten. Please don't worry. Um, thank you."

A lie, of course—she had abstained from the various victuals the coven had offered her over the day in favor of mere water—but surely Banks wouldn't know.

A sudden noise at her feet drew a flinch out of Winnie, and she looked down to see a pile of clothes deposited there, left in Indy's wake as she walked by. Tremulously, she knelt to the floor and scooped them up in her arms. They hadn't gotten to finish their conversation before Key and these others had entered the room—surely Indy was sickened by the sight of her, now, but her offering of clothes at least meant she had space left in her heart to pity Winnie.

And what a pity you are.

Winnie straightened and hugged the clothes to her chest, lightly biting her lip. The magic-imbued shower had washed and dried her shift dress along with her filthy skin, but... the stink of that prison cell still clung to each thread of the fabric. She did want to change, as soon as possible, but the thought of shedding her clothing in front of so many pairs of eyes was too sickening to even consider. When would she again have a moment of privacy? Would she—?

Winnie glanced past Banks to trace Indy's path over to Foster. Foster—she could scarcely bring herself to look at his body alone, his posture as stiff and unaware as a corpse's. It was almost as if the life that had been snatched from the limo driver had fled him, too.

And just a little while earlier, he had been alight with defiant spunk. She didn't dare make eye contact with him now—

Oh. When Winnie's gaze moved past Foster to the woman who had been assigned as his guard (Park, Key had said), she felt her gut shrivel within her. The way Park was looking at her—why—? It was as if a shark had smelled blood in the water. What could she want? Was she a vampire herself—? No, that wouldn't make sense; Winnie's mistress had said her blood had a pure, sweet taste when she was still human (an idea Winnie had never fully believed), but now it was the blood of the undead, stale and rusty. There was nothing to her blood that should whet the appetite.

So why—?

Her heart leapt like a startled bird, and she found herself taking a hesitant step back. "H—Hello," she said meekly to Park, bowing her head in submission. "I-I promise I won't cause you any trouble."


winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 
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Every
fucking​
one of them.​

Coda's entire frame felt as if it were burning, his fingers taut with the tension of an arrow waiting to be released. This charge of his (Indy, he faintly heard the pipsqueak say from where she stood with Banks) was just like the others—dripping with scorn, contempt, disgust; even in handcuffs, she saw him as something small, no more significant than an errand-boy to do laundry for her. Something to be laughed at.

(In his head, the others were laughing, too, a cacophony of derision.)

Why? Why? What was it about him that was so—

freak
freak​

—so much less? No matter where he went, no matter how he bared his teeth or flashed his claws, his skin was as marred as Cain's. Everyone knew he was

freak
freak​

nothing more than half.

Coda felt his fists tremble as he watched Indy brush past him, his gaze hot and frothing with rage at her back. Her back—of course her back. He was always looking at someone's back, always feeling the sting of dismissal, of being discarded.

Everyone. Everyone knew he was weak.

And they were going to pay for it.

Every
fucking​
one of them.​

A feral noise rumbled in his throat as Coda stalked after Indy, slowly at first and then urgent, immediate; as soon as she was within reach, he lashed out with a scorched, desecrated arm and didn't stop until it had emerged clean through the other side of her with a vicious rip of flesh—

And then he blinked, and Indy was standing across the room, her back facing him. Breath shallow, Coda looked down at his arm—the same shade of brown it had always been. He still clutched the bloody clothes Indy had tossed at him. He hadn't even moved from where he was standing.

Fuck. What the fuck—?

There was a begrudging sort of relief that he hadn't, in fact, murdered his charge mere moments after meeting her and therefore fucked up whatever promotion he was up for, but—fuck. It had felt so real. He was getting delirious in his hunger—not just for a soul, but for the hunt that preceded it, the power he craved more than Tantalus craved water.

He winced at a sudden twist of pain, drawing a hand up to his forehead. A twin headache had begun to form, a pinprick of pressure on either of his temples.

Just a little longer. Just think of how it'll taste.

Gritting his teeth in disgust, Coda tossed aside the lump of bloody clothes Indy had unceremoniously dumped on him—he was her guard, not her maid. Still, the faint scent of blood lingered, and Coda glanced down to see a smear of blood on his curled fist. Slowly, he lifted the hand to his mouth and sucked the blood from his fingers. Something, but not enough.

Neither him nor the blood.


coda.

half-demon

 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Foster Croft

Tags: Indy Rhyme Rhyme Winnie & Coda Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Park Maeteris Maeteris | Location: Miami, FL ​


Foster did get dressed in the clothes given to him, though honestly, he could have been handed a skirt and would have still worn it, as shell shocked as he was. Somehow he made it to a seat and sat down. As his curls dried, a light of recognition started to creep back into his eyes.

Sounds of people talking had been background noise, muted and something he couldn't really focus on. But it suddenly all just snapped. Or maybe he did. Foster bolted out of the chair and stood. "What the FUCK was that?"

One arm gestured toward the door, and the direction he assumed the front room to be. Didn't really matter, direction that is, the others who had been through the same thing would know what he meant. "Seriously? What. The. Fuck?"

His eyes were bright, and his anger was slowly replacing the shock and what the fuckery. "You don't.. People don't... Peoples heads do NOT fucking explode like that!" Hands moved to either side of his head, fingers slid through his damp curls.

"What the fuckity fuck fuck?"
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Catty Conversations | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Britt-21 Britt-21
Location: Miami, FL

Morgan eventually settled into a sitting position, but kept his knees drawn up to his chest. Chin rested on top, ears more relaxed but still held a little lower than normal.

Well.. until she said she was a vampire. Morgan really couldn't help his reaction. Ears flattened and he hissed with a show of fang all while he pressed tightly into the futon.

It only lasted a moment, before he seemed to be able to control it again. Morgan stayed deep into the futon mattress as he held onto his tail to fidget with.

"So..sorry."

Roje blinked a few times and shifted her gaze back down to his face, a laugh erupting from her chest “Don’t be sorry kitten. It takes more than hissing to scare me.” It was actually pretty entertaining to see his reactions like that and try to act tough. It was amusing. “If it’s part of your nature, than it’s part of your nature. I can’t stop that.” She said with a shrug “Feeding off of live people is kinda against what I do. Haven’t fed from an actual person in years. So you’re more than safe.”

Morgan managed to give half of a grin, or an attempt at one. "I'm... not much of a fighter. Never worked with Brandon. He was always stronger."

“I can make you one. It’s not that hard, just requires a lot of pain and training.” This is what she spoke to key about earlier on the plane. Wanting to turn her charge into some kind of fighter even though he may not be able to get into it. “I can teach you some moves for self defense.” She grinned herself, knowing that her teaching wasn’t always easy.

Morgan didn't look so sure about the idea. "But.. I'll likely get dust on someone, and might make it worse?" Sure, with the cuffs he wasn't producing nearly the amount he normally did, so maybe that was a thing. But.. he really really didn't like pain, especially his own.

“Alright fine.” She said “ill give you something that doesn’t require demonstration or much thought to it.” She pointed to her head “your hair? Shove it all up in that person’s face while producing a dust that can make them weak. Like sadness or fear.” Sweet and simple. Something he could do if he ever got grabbed from behind or something to that nature. “Just know there are worse people out there that want you just to use you for your dust. Would you rather be treated like a drug factory or like a prisoner that does have some pretty nice privileges?”

Morgan seemed to be slowly relaxing bit by bit. "Brandon.. he had a shower thing he built. Sort of a .. collector? He .. he would sell the dust to pay for the house after my m.. after my adoptive parents died." Morgan gave a little huff. "Probably more than just the house."

Roje stared at him for a moment before her look grew dark “That son of a bitch.” She said “if you ever see him, you’d better tell me cause he’ll get a nice present from yours truly.” He actually used Morgan as a fuckin rat and she wasn’t not one bit happy about it. “I’m gonna prevent that from happening. Last thing you need is to be used as a tool.”

Morgan gave a more genuine half smile then. "He never liked them adopting me. Maybe he knew I wasn't human before I did. Dunno. At least once he had that collector set up, he left me alone as long as I got him some dust."

“I could give you a damn hug right now but I don’t wanna get dust on me so I’ll just settle with telling you about giving you a hug.” She bit her lip and spoke “We established that Brandon bitch is a collector for your dust. Which was probably for more than your house.” If it was were for drugs, no doubt Key must have ran into that dumbass and offered something -or threatened- in turn for Morgan himself. “Is that all he did?”

Morgan laughed, his ears relaxed and even his posture wasn't hunched over as if cowed. "Well, like.. for the dust?"

Roje couldn’t help the smile that tugged her lips as she shook her head “Just in general really. Did you ever overhear him on the phone or anything?” She asked, relieved that Morgan was getting somewhat comfortable around her.

"No, he made the basement pretty sound proof." There was a little fidgeting and his gaze shifted away from Roje.

“I ask this because it may help ease or worsen my own thoughts. It can also help tell me what the fuck is going on from A to... well definitely not Z but. Somewhere in the middle of the alphabet.” When she noticed his fidgeting, she added “if you want to go to bed I can leave you be. Sounded like we would have a long day ahead of us.”

Morgan's cat ears, when not flattened against his head, would twitch and turn depending upon his thoughts. Which would be more and more apparent as long as Morgan wasn't feeling threatened or fearful in some way.

"Well..." Left ear flicked a few times in quick succession. His tone was hesitant but he continued. "Sometimes.. he'd say he had a specific order for a type of dust.. but a couple week ago.. he called it samples. That was the first time he called it samples."

“Samples.” She repeated, looking at him before groaning “You’ve got to be actually kidding me.” Didn’t Key said he had to test her with the dust? No doubt he was the one who asked for the samples. “This shit just keeps getting deeper doesn’t it?” For all she knew this could be bullshit. But it was too coincidental bullshit. “There are many things I can tell you what’s going on in my head. But if I did that I could risk being replaced so I won’t tell you anything. Not yet anyway.”

Morgan tucked his chin a little bit, as it sounded like he was really so in over his head. It did not sound good, no matter how he tried to spin it. Ears grew low, not in fear, but drooped, like his head and shoulders drooped with a sudden thought. More like a realization, in hindsight.

"Brandon sold me, didn't he?"

“Kitten, that’s exactly what I’m starting to think. Hate to admit it.” Just looking at him was pitiful. He was upset that someone who he thought was family -despite being treated badly- just went on ahead and sold him as if he was cattle. “There’s probably more to it that we don’t know about.”

Morgan huffed before he relaxed back into the futon again. "S'okay. I didn't like giving him specific dust on demand anyway."

“Yeah... I could only imagine how the love dusts go.” She teased as she got up from her chair “I don’t even wanna know what that consisted of to get that.”

Morgan's cheeks went pink and he definitely avoided looking at Roje, but managed to mumble, "Don't ask."

Roje laughed “Thats why I haven’t asked. I could only imagine how weird that must have been.” She took off her jacket and tossed it on the desk where Key had sat earlier to show her the picture of Morgan. Exposing her toned arms in her black tank top. “You want to keep talking or get some sleep? I got all night.”

Morgan shook his head. "I think... sleep. It's been... a not very good day."

Roje nodded “Alright. Holler if you need me. I’ll be somewhere in this damn room. Can’t go far.”


coded by natasha.
 
Yeo-Jin Park


The old-blood introduces herself as Winnie--even the name itself was crafted to be synonymous with innocence. Park didn’t even register Winnie’s head turning towards her direction, that little doll head, it makes her teeth gnaw against each other. But the voice snaps her to reality again, just as she expects, timid and low.

Shit.

“Y-yeah.” She clears her throat, eyes blinking searching everywhere but Winnie’s face. “See that you don’t.”

She focuses on getting nudist--Foster, his name--clothed. Just in time too as the other one, Cat-lady Indy, brushes past her with more force than necessary. Park brows shoots up in confusion, then furrowing in annoyance. Well fuck you too, she huffs. Cat-lady Indy is talking with Nudist-Foster, apparently he’d been caught naked in the former’s presence before. Huh.

She takes a step back, allowing them a little space for themselves cause why the hell not. Beats having to stand over them like a parent.. All of the sudden--well not so sudden, since she saw this coming--Foster shoots up from the chair, arms animated and tone high, curses flying in the wind, eliciting a quick snicker from her.

He has a mouth on him too, she groans inwardly.

“Calm down, you’re in shock.” She explains half-heartedly, she can’t be arsed to count how many times she had to calm a victim down. She sure as hell didn’t want it to be a habit in this work too. “D’ya want Coke? Pepsi? Sugar helps calm things down.”


location: Florida • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions
 
Clementine Holt​
Clementine laughed nervously and looked back at her grandparents as she ushered Ash away from them. She grit her teeth anxiously at his compliments and wracked her brain for any previous knowledge she could have on this guy. His compliments and dinner proposition caught her by surprise, but the glowing necklace that lay on her neck caught her attention more. She quickly grabbed it and felt the warmth against her palm. However, there was no rush of relaxation to follow.

When Ash leans over into her space, Clementine flinches. A bubble of anxiety seemed to burst within her as she spoke those words to her. Her breath quickened and she nervously looked over to her grandparents. What is happening? This guy is a stranger , but why do
I have this feeling we met? Does he really mean he’ll Kill my grandparents and why?! Why does this feel so familiar? Clementine swallowed and nodded nervously. Her hands shook against the grip on the pendant as she turned and walked towards her grandparents. She took a deep breath and explained to them the situation, all while giving a fake smile and hoping they wouldn’t notice the fear in her eyes.

She turned away and felt tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. Looking to Ash, she gave him an angry, but fearful look. “Whatever you’re trying to do,” she whispers out of her grandparents’ ear shot, “leave them out of it you monster.”
 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Wright Wranch
Tags: A lot of characters ( Out Of Words Out Of Words ), Maylee Song ( Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees ), Evelyn Harper ( Maeteris Maeteris ), Allison Hagan ( bread-and-butterflies bread-and-butterflies ), Edwin Blut ( Thropian Thropian )​


Of course Devlin was having fun watching the reactions. If not the dragon, there's the white light, something to scare everyone in the room. Watching as he shifted back was a nicer experience than the first shift though, as Leif already knew the light was harmless. If it was impressive to him, he could only imagine what it felt like for others who didn't even know dragons existed. All justified reactions.

So far the dragon dude hadn't really done anything to have Leif dislike him. He hadn't been poisoned by the liquor, nor scorched to death by the light, and the man seemed chill enough. A good start. But revealing himself as a dragon wouldn't be enough to make him dive in head first. Dragons were ancient beings that certainly possessed great knowledge, though the lack of information was still too tangible. He could've guessed the 'save the world' part by himself, and would actually rather have the doom and gloom before the introductions part. He was past commiting to something knowing only the people involved, and not facts. It did seem legit though, so he took a seat when Devlin did, mumbling a thank you to Maylee for helping with the shards, obviously her way of coping with... a motherfucking dragon.

He was therefore surprised when she took the lead and spoke first. And she wasn't wrong, few things were more exciting than a dragon; however, her words weighed a lot more in his mind than Devlin's revelation. He'd expected her revelation to be related to what he'd already picked up from the air, so when her eyes met his, his expression was neutral, and he followed her eyes when they switched to the elven woman, and then Shia.

Once she'd uttered first words, however, it felt like the air around them suddenly weighted a ton and dropped to the floor with no warning. He hadn't picked that up in the air. Eyes somewhat widened, but not much else was revealed by his expression.

As her words sank in and she spoke further, however, it started to make sense. What exactly did he expect her to be doing in the last three years after losing her family to a demon? Becoming a nun wouldn't bring many results, so a hunter... made sense. The part of not hunting for pleasure or money, on the other hand, came as no surprise to him once he'd adequately taken in the part that she was a hunter. Of course not; she wasn't another person, she was still the same, just... changed, and adapted.

Over the years he'd learned to fly mostly under the radar, which meant his encounters with hunters were (relactively) rare. He was never kind to their kind though, and never really bothered to ask whether they had a moral compass or not; in fact, he'd usually take extra time with them, not in a good sense. However, that situation was completely new, and he couldn't deal with it in the same way he was used to. Or better, perhaps he could, but he didn't want to. Figuring out just how much he was supposed to say to not sound like the exact type of thing she hunted would be fairly described as tricky, too. While his own moral compass could be described as (most of the time) rather off, he was able to understand hers, and wouldn't misjudge her for it.

Her second reveal finally touched on the subject that'd been lurking in the back of his mind (and nose) for a while, and this time his expressions revealed no signs of surprise, as he'd seen something of that sort coming. That much made sense too, as being up against all kinds of supernatural things wasn't easy for a mere human. However, saying it made sense due to her greater context was different than saying it'd been the best or wisest decision. Darkness was imbued into her blood, and it couldn't exactly be ripped out. She'd need to learn how to manage the damage, and he had the impression she likely wasn't aware of how far that damage could go.

He watched her partial transformation with a hint of gloom, as if before her demonstration she could be just making a joke, or lying to impress the others. He knew she was saying the truth from the beginning, but couldn't help the little droplet of hope.

He also didn't have much time to admire her fearlessness of death, as her final words caused the gloom inside his head to grow, and buried away resentment and guilt to resurface. Resentment at Adrien for refusing to pursue their best lead at keeping her brother under control, and guilt at maybe not having insisted enough. Respecting his friend's freedom of choice and morals didn't sound too much like a quality now that the man was six feet under for sticking with said morals.

Shia's transformation was impressive enough to push the gloomy feelings away for the time being, and thankfully less frightening. While few could be compared to seeing a dragon up close, the wyvern was still a memorable and increasingly rare sight, and brought back ancient memories he'd almost never recall. So that was why Shia was the only one who seemed to know about Devlin being a dragon; they did have an interesting story.

Out of everything Devlin could've done to the wyvern egg (and the wyvern itself, once it hatched), he decided to raise it. Surely said something about the man's character.

And there was going be a feast the next night, with more interaction time? The whole thing only got more and more intriguing. What was next, a friendly dodgeball match before the 'save the world' sessions?

Leif wasn't super fond of the AA style of meeting that was unfolding, but he also had no social anxiety issues - that sort of thing dies out after you've lived a few centuries -, so he stood up when Shia asked who was next.

"Leif Hjalkarssen, or Maddox Ward, I don't mind which one you choose." he spoke casually. "And I've been clean for... 8 hours or so, I think." he added the last part with a small chuckle as he ran his gaze over the other's faces, briefly pausing as it met the white wolf's. He wondered whether Chase had also lost his clothes in his desperate transformation and was now stuck as a wolf until the end of the meeting. Part of him hoped so, as he might have been a little too honest with the shifter earlier, and who knew how much he could accidentally spill out.

"I'm not a dragon, either..." everyone seemed to be starting with that, so why not? "...but I'm a hunter too." his gaze was serene as it briefly scoured everyone's faces (and muzzle) again before landing on Maylee. "I hunt for blood. I'm a vampire." he added. Not really something he'd be able to keep a secret for long. The details, sure, but he definitely couldn't pull it off pretending to be an elf or something for long. His gaze conveyed no challenge as it watched Maylee, instead it remained casual and calm. They'd need to talk later, that was for sure, but he just couldn't start off with a huge lie.

There really wasn't much else to say, and he wasn't the type to justify everything like Maylee, though a little addition was appropriate. "I'm a bit older than what I look like, so I'm well in control of what my prey is." he wasn't about to say 'who', 'what' definitely sounded better, as it could very well be a reference to animals. He wasn't about to plague anyone with a 1000 year long lifestory, so that was about it. "I can definitely answer questions later aswell." he added with a somewhat friendly nod as he stepped back to get back on his seat.
 
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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




BUG



Bug was full of 'ooh' and 'ahhh' when everyone talked about themselves. He was genuinely happy to learn about others, and his applause sounded after each one. After Devlin, Maylee, Shia, Maddox.. It was so very fascinating and he wanted to be a part of it.

"Oh. Oh. Mister Kotter! Mister Kotter! Pick me!" Bug stuck his arm up in the air and waved it around like an old tv series, one among a thousand stuck in his head. Devlin chuckled and waved Bug to come to the front.

He was ear to ear grin, and he all but skipped to the 'stage' humming the imperial march because why not. Bug turned around, throwing his arms out wide to either side as if presenting himself for inspection. All of his expressions and gestures were exaggerated in his attempt to be 'grand'.

"HELLO! I am Bug, your Cypher extrordinaire!" He chittered and gave a little bit of a cricket serenade. "Do not adjust your hearing! That is me!" He couldn't help but grin wide. "Soooooooo I am a shifter type thingmabobbie. Only well.. I do insects."

His hair fluttered, wings of insects wanting to come free and show off. "I'm also fabulous at trivia, and general life of any party. I promise!" Chitter. "Oh, but uh... not too welcome currently in the state of California.. issue with the airport, nothing big really." He started listing them off on his fingers. "Arizona, on account of some small little teeny tiny wildfire. Uh.. Mexico, the country. Oh! And Alaska. Yeah, let's not get into that."

Bug cleared his throat and held up a hand. "So.. Don't freak, 'k? Gonna just go with some pretty things everyone likes." And from the palm of his hand, a small swarm of monarch butterflies formed and flew upward. "This is just a few. And we're like a hive mind. Separate but still together and.."

"Bug!" Shia stood up and moved to him. "Bug.. " He was trying to speak calm and not alarm the man. "Can you put them away for the moment? Don't.. change right now, okay?" Shia had seen something that prompted him to swiftly stop the cypher from making more.

Bug pouted a little but called the butterflies back. "Whyyyy? Did I do something wrong?"

Shia shook his head and held onto Bug's hand with both of his. "No, no. Just.. I think you're very special, Bug. And.." Shia looked around at the group, "Apologies." A bow of his head, then his gaze moved to Devlin before returning to Bug. "When you made the butterflies.. they were.. free of those tethers. Remember us talking about the little ties to the moon?"

Bug gave a smile, because he remembered. "Yes! They are making me more energetic!"

Shia made a bit of a face, but nodded. "Yeah, those, Bug. Well.. after a moment, each butterfly..." It was difficult to explain. "They had a thin tether attach to them. I think.. that's why you have so many attached to you, Bug. You can't change, okay? Not until we sort it out. Promise me, Bug. Please?"

Bug made a bit of a face, normally he'd likely freak out but the blue potion was still effective in keeping him from feeling like it was the end of the world. "Okay." Bug gave Shia a big old hug, smushing the smaller man against his chest. Once Shia returned the hug, Bug let him go a moment later.

"Okay so.. I'm still pretty good at trivia and song lyrics, and useless knowledge. And I can be your Bug Buddy! Free subscription service, inquire within." Bug winked and returned to his seat, humming 'Vogue' as he struck several poses on the 'runway' along the way.
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Block C | Current Timeline: May 14th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Maeteris Maeteris Rhyme Rhyme
Location: Miami, FL

It didn't take terribly long before he was advised the rooms were ready. Since Roje and her charge were already in one, they just needed three more. Key did a quick check on them, and gave instructions to each guard who would be posted outside their door.

Maybe a half hour after leaving, Key returned to the decontamination room, entering as the guard opened the door for him. By then, everyone was dressed, and it looked like some conversation had occurred. Fine. Good. "Okay, please keep your charge in front of you, and follow me."

He headed down a different corridor, looking back to make sure everyone was in line. There was another guard waiting to bring up the rear and provide additional security. It was the next room down, he paused and gestured. "Park and charge, here." When they passed by him to enter, "If you need something, let the guard know. No leaving this room. We'll come for you in the morning."

And a guard would be stationed just outside. Next room down, next pair. "Banks and charge." Next room down, last pair. "Coda and charge." Each group had the same little spiel about the guard and no leaving, blah blah.

Each room had bunk beds, a fully stocked fridge, sink, microwave and a small bathroom, but no windows. Plenty of blankets, and towels if they needed to shower. Key couldn't get them into their rooms fast enough. He still had to check on the flight in the morning and a few other things before he could rest.

It was going to be a very long day tomorrow.


coded by natasha.
 
Evelyn Harper



Surprisingly, Maylee Song took the initiative. The first to lay herself open in a den full of wolves. She was braver than Evelyn had first assumed, but she’d always been aware of Maylee Song’s hidden bravado, an ace in the hole pulled at the last minute. Her eyes were looking through the small crowd, searching for something and for a moment it landed on Evelyn. She could only respond with a slight perk of a lone brow before the gaze wandered off again before coming to a stop somewhere else. How peculiar.

And perhaps naive.

Maylee Song’s supernatural side had been known to some of them for quite awhile now. Though the reasoning behind it was shrouded, Evelyn couldn’t care about it. It was her past to keep and she should’ve kept that to herself. Evelyn held back from shaking her head, instead tried to read the crowd. The mood was somber after Wright’s reveal, and everyone was listening. That was good. Had this been another crowd--the Business crowd. Maylee Song would’ve been poked, prodded and questioned until she broke--left a crying hot mess on the linoleum.

Thankfully she wasn’t with that crowd of people right now, Evelyn caught the last of Maylee Song’s words before she fell into a quiet resolve, it almost shone in her eyes. Admirable.

D’Shire was next to speak, and Evelyn expected to know most of what he’d had to say.

Until she was unpleasantly reminded why trust was a rare commodity. A wyvern stood where D’Shire was. Unlike Wright, he was noticeably smaller, and had a mixture of feathers, scales and whatever these things were made up of. Stark as night, the colored patches of feathers flowing like an aurora.

A beautiful lie, indeed.

Another voice spoke up, Evelyn couldn’t deem it important enough for her to turn her attention to---”Vampire.” Her body fell rigid, neck stuck in place as her eyes slowly slid towards the source. It was the unassuming mortal with the slicked back blonde hair, a bitter taste appeared on the back of her mouth as she remembered equating him with the regality of her own peers.

A leech on par with an Aelf? Incalculable.

Brazenly, he’d announced his hunt for blood and his exercised constraint. She’d heard of leeches with diets, but like any other creature their control was tenuous, and would soon fall to their baser instincts at the smallest whiff of a greater prize.

Her.

More appropriately, her blood.Her hand reached for her neck, massaging the small space above her jugular. An Aelf’s pride and jewel ascended mere material possessions, it was birthed with them. And these leeches had the audacity to exist with the ability to take her pride away. Stay away from Ward at all costs.

What is that racket?

Her attention whisked again, landing annoyedly on a chipper Bug as he was skipping and humming and all kinds of noises emanating from this silly creature made to look like a humanoid. Her lip twitched. His words flew at her walls, and for a moment, this creature--Bug, earned his name in more ways than one.


It was a wonder how D’Shire could calmly speak to him, a rare spark of envy coming from her. An ability she solely lacked and desperately wanted: to be able to cope with whoever and whenever with a calm mind yet the world made it seem like everything and anything was against her.


Bug retreated whence he came not a moment too soon. Her gazes flickering towards Ward once or twice, expecting to catch him staring at her neck. He knew what she was, there was no doubt; one of the perks of being a bloodhound. But the others did not know, would they care to know? It wasn’t as grand as a dragon or a wyvern, neither as strong and agile as a werewolf and definitely not accursed like a vampire.


“Evelyn Harper, Harper Industries VP, New York Branch.” She read it off the top of her head. “Elf.” She added with a level-tone. It hurt to omit the flavorful pride to her tone as she usually would inject in the rarest occurrence that she had to disclose that information. But the situation called for it, they needn’t know her exact line. As far as they’re concerned, Evelyn Harper was just another mythical creature basking in the ignorance of mortals.


location: Houston • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Chase Moon



The wolf had relaxed enough, especially with the dragon and smaller dragon no longer in 'easy to eat a wolf with' form. Even moved out from behind the couch and settled on back haunches. Ears perked forward and his head did that silly tilting to one side when someone was speaking. All the better to hear them with, my dear.

Wuffle. It was fascinating, though Maylee being a hunter had giving him pause, and maybe internally he was still wary of such. Funny, when Leif said he was a hunter, Chase wuffled with a snort. For some reason it was not the same in his book. Maybe he had succumbed to some vampire charm spell.

Bug he knew a bit about already, though there was a soft whine when Shia expressed concerned and explained the reasoning. Bug covered in tethers was not good, no matter how one tried to spin it. Chase was still dwelling on this when Evelyn declared herself an elf.

The wolf head turned sharply to look at this elf. He had come across only a couple in his duties as a Runner, might be an interesting conversation to be had. But oh, it was turn for someone else. Chase wuffled and with a wag of his tail, padded into the spot Bug had used as a stage of sorts.

At first, Chase wuffled and made little woofing noises. A bit of a rawr rawr, snort, sniffle and wuffle, and then he winked at the others. Chase shifted then, though it took a minute. Nothing nearly as spectacular as the pretty lights of the dragonkind. Just a strange morphing between wolf to human.

Thankfully, he had learned how to manipulate clothing in the shift, so he wasn't naked. It was too awkward while being a Runner, to arrive at a location only to change forms and be naked around a throng of strangers. The second time a host hadn't let him get dressed before hearing the message, Chase devoted a lot of time and effort into fixing the clothing issue.

"Hey..." Wuffle. "I'm Chase, also known as Chases-the-Moon, wolf shifter, if you hadn't guessed." Wuffle wuffle. One hand moved to rub at the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face. "Uh.. I was a Runner before coming here. I would carry messages between communities, that's the summary of it anyway. I like.. running, steak, running, rabbit... running..." He gave a laugh, the sound merged with his wuffle.

A bit of a shrug and he added, "I know most of the forests in the states, have a few tales I could tell, but you need someone to run? I'm your Huckleberry." Wuffle. And one more grin as he started to change back to the wolf as he walked to the couch.

It felt like forever since he had been a wolf, especially at night. Not having the pain in his legs or spine was greater relief than he realized in human form. The white wolf wuffled almost constantly once the shifting was done, and he head butted Leif's leg for a scratch behind the ears.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Not The Embassy Suites - Park & Foster ​

Tags: Park Maeteris Maeteris
Location: Miami, FL

Foster was still in shock, but he stopped swearing with the one guy came in to take them to their rooms. You know, the one who made someone's head fucking explode.

Once in the room though, Foster moved to the corner farthest away from the door, pressing his back into it. He spoke, tone a bit on the hushed side in case scanner man was listening. "Did you know he exploded some guy's head?"

Wow. "Looks like a fancy dormitory." She says idly as she enters with a dressed-Foster in tow. She has half a mind to crash immediately on the bottom bunk, but since clothed-Foster is in here with her, she'd at least have some decorum.

"Yeah, I got the gist of it." She tells him. It isn't surprising, hell, she anticipated that a guy like Key would do something as crazy as that. Snout never failed her yet!

She scans clothed-Foster up and down, he's calmer now, that's good. Can't deal with a manic roommate. "What's your story though?"

Foster was shaking off the shock, but still a tad on the pale side. He moved to sit down on the edge of the bottom bunk as he didn't see a chair. Not that he was looking really.

"Story? I.. I don't know anymore." He sounded like he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. "Story about what?"

"Yeah, story." She says as she shakes off her boot, and then the other. Freedom at last. If only the higher ups thought of a goddamn inside pool. That'd be perfect.

"Y'know, how'd you come here, what's your thing... the works." She stands up, hands on her hip as she looks across the room. Well shit, nice plan. What am I supposed to do? Go nude around this guy?

Foster was staring at the door where the guard was supposed to be on the other side. Wasn't really aware of doing so, just habit to always be aware of exits.

"I'm a shifter. Different small animals. I call it Pocket." As for how he got there, he just gave a little growl. "And I was kidnapped. Drugged and dragged to a plane from New York to this hellhole."

Oh. One of those cases. "Right."

He's distracted, looking at the door, probably thinking of bolting out as soon as she's unaware. But there was a guard on the other side that'd soon put him to the ground. "Lucky day, I'm a shifter too, more on the aquatic side though."

She pads up to him, extending a lone hand. "Park, Yeo-Jin." He didn't look like the typical punks she'd busted, a little on the rough side sure, but she'd bet he's more bark than bite.

Hearing she was a shifter too, Foster shifted his gaze and focus to her. More so when she extended a hand for shaking. Foster made a face as if debating on not shaking hands, but, "Hell, already trapped."

He shook her hand. "Foster Croft, prisoner." Huff.

She smiles when they shake hands. Good lad, she thinks, laughing. For a second, she'd thought he'd be petty and slap her hand away. She debated telling him they were in the same boat, but decided against it for now.

"Like Lara Croft huh." She says, "Nice to meet you, Foster." She turns away, shaking off her uniform to the floor. "Sorry you're caught up in that mess, if it's any consolation. I'd have done it differently."

Differently my foot. If Cat-lady-Indy and Clothed-Foster both had running mouths while she was driving she'd taze them too no doubt. Lucky she wasn't the one on that job.

Foster scoffed when compared to Lara Croft. "Not hardly, she has more assets." In more ways than one. He looked away when Park took off the top half of her uniform, leaving a black tank top on.

"I was supposed to be meeting someone else, but... maybe all that had been a lie too. Probably fucking was." He mimicked a female's voice. "Go and gather this other shifter, join us, we'll save the moon."

Foster growled. "Instead of some superhero group, I got played as a chump. Whatever."

Park snorts as she picks up her uniform, throwing it on her bunk, Foster had his head turned away. She called it, the boy was more bark than bite. Still pretty cute though.

"Probably," She says idly, "Probably not. I might be getting played too." Her voice trails as she spots a familiar shape, a damned fridge. A personal goddamn fridge. Now that's luxury. She better not be getting charged. "But y'know, go with the flow, don't fight the stream and whatever."

She returns to Foster a second later, cradling snacks in her arm, and one blood bag. "They got snacks." She tells him, "Want some?"

Foster's stomach answered before he could with a loud protesting grumble at being neglected for longer than an hour. He snorted as he took a bag of Doritos. "Yeah, thanks."

With the bottom bunk apparently claimed, Foster gave a snort. His mouth couldn't help it. "So you like being on the bottom eh?"

"Thought so." She says, surrendering the Doritos she brought over. Different people had different ways of getting through shock, it just so happened most needed sugar.

She smiles, a sweet sharp toothed grin as she sidles up to him closer, breathing down his ear, "Yep," She whispers, she pulls back, throwing the blood bag on the bed. "Might need that, I don't know, I'm not a vampire, but the smell is just intoxicating.... Y'know." A sideways glance, and another grin.

Foster's face started to flood with heat, but to his credit, he didn't lean away or bolt when Park breathed in his ear. Maybe cleared his throat, but it wasn't until she stopped talking Foster moved.

He forced himself to move slowly away, standing up off the bunk as he seemed to focus on the bag of chips. "Yeah well... I'm sure if you need more, doofus outside the door can get some."

He moved to the fridge to see what sort of drinks they had. Grabbing a cold can of soda, he leaned against the closed fridge door as he munched and drank his drink. Calmer, and even the flush in his cheeks started to fade. "So, what's next?"

"Hell if I know." She sinks down onto the bed unceremoniously, looking over to clothed-Foster who was leaning against the Fridge, his cheeks a fading shade of pink. She resisted the urge to chuckle.

"So what? You're just gonna go with the flow now? Swim with the shoal?"

Foster snorted. "Like I'm going to tell you."

"Not even if I twisted your arm?" She cooed.

Well, he wizened the hell up fast. Boring. Her back bounces on the mattress, arms splayed on her sides, her hand feels something squishy and--oh it's the blood bag she brought over.

Foster barely refrained from rolling his eyes, and finished his food without commenting further. He took a moment to wash his hands at the sink before eyeing the top bunk. "What time is it?"

The quiet rush of water brings her thoughts back to the open ocean, but it ended as quickly as it appeared, and now Clothed-Foster is standing there like a stick in the mud.

She shrugs, or tries to, it doesn't help when she's on the bed. "I 'unno. What's stopping you from stabbing me when I'm asleep?" She props herself up by her elbows, head craning over to look at Clothed-Foster.

Foster laughed, and made his way to the top bunk before answering. He looked down at her from over the edge. "With what? My sharp wit?"

Her eyes narrow. It's hard to believe this guy even after the impromptu interrogation. He could be a rat or something, she'd hate do die nibbled by a rat. Those rodents could rip through steel she heard.

"I could still kill you...Probably." She trails, thinking about it. "Yeah, nevermind I can't do that, or my head will be next on the block."

Foster snorted as he lay back on the bunk, staring up at the ceiling. “Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.” He couldn't help but quote one of his favorite movies, Princess Bride.

He figured might as well try to sleep, sounded like things were just going to go downhill anyway. "Night."

"Yup, yup." A distracted reply as she stares at the bottom of the overhead bunk. How the hell did she get into this situation? Wasn't she writing reports and decking no-good punks just yesterday?

How is clothed-Foster falling asleep faster than she did? Maybe that shock was good for something after all, made him all tired and sleepy. "G'night." She murmured. Maybe tomorrow would be better.


coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Not The Embassy Suites - Banks & Winnie​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees
Location: Miami, FL

Winnie kept her feet (the flesh and the plastic) moving as quickly beneath her as she could as Key escorted the group to their rooms for the night—she didn't want to irritate Banks by forcing him to walk slower to accommodate her meager steps. By the time she had reached the room and had finished listening, half-dazed, to Key's firm instructions for the night, she was well out of breath (thin, short breaths through her nose, though, to avoid drawing attention), and her scrawny constitution was once again a source of embarrassment. Though, to be fair, she supposed the emotional distress didn't help.

Before Winnie took in any of the furniture bedecking the room—and, indeed, the furniture was far nicer than the cell she had come to call home—she found her gaze drifting up to the ceiling. In any room she had spent a night of her life in, she had gotten well-acquainted with the ceiling, and if she closed her eyes, she could remember the precise geography of every one of them leading back to her childhood home. It had become a habit: lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, pretending it was someplace else.

These beds, though, were stacked on top of each other, and so only one would have a view of the ceiling. She had never used bunk beds before—back at home, she and her sister had shared a single bed. Hesitantly, she glanced over at Banks, and after a moment, she asked softly: "Um, which bed do you prefer, sir? I can take the other one."

She showed her teeth, then, and hoped whatever expression sat upon her face was closer to a smile than a wince.

Banks looked around the room and took note of the beds. "You take the top." It was a strategic choice, if he was on the bottom, he should wake if Winnie attempted to get out of bed and leave.

Not saying the guard at the door would be lax at his post, but Banks was responsible for Winnie, and he was going to do this job right. Had to show he was valuable to the Coven.

"And seriously, you can call me Banks. Okay?" He gave a warm smile, pretty damn happy this one was his charge. The others had mouths and he laughed inside thinking of Park with a mouth more foul than his own.

He pushed away from the wall in favor of checking out this fully stocked fridge. "Uh.. did you need something to eat?" He checked the contents over. "Plenty of food and uh.." His head tilted as he drew out a blood bag to show. "Blood?"

Oh, the top bunk—so she was going to get a view of the ceiling after all. Winnie glanced up at it, still squeezing the set of fresh clothes to her chest like a makeshift shield. She wouldn't have long with this ceiling, so she would have to study it as carefully as she could while she could.

She wondered if ceilings ever got lonely, stuck in place while everyone left them behind.

"Oh, um—okay, Banks," she said nervously, and all at once she felt the strange twinge that she had had this conversation before, somehow, but that couldn't be—aside from this evening, she had never seen Banks in her life.

She stiffened defensively when he began to sift through the contents of the refrigerator. "Oh, um," she blurted out, "I don't drink blood, actually! I mean—" She frowned, glanced aside, fidgeted with the clothes in her hands. "I... I don't need to. I guess you could say I've got an, um, niche diet." A nervous spurt of quiet laughter, and then she buried the lower half of her face in the clean clothing. "A-Actually, um, Banks, is it okay if I... use the restroom...?"

Banks looked at Winnie, as if trying to see if she was planning something. Just in case, he went to examine the small bathroom. Still no windows, he poked at the ceiling and walls. Once he was confident there wasn't a way to get out, he gave her a nod.

"Sure, just don't try anything, yeah?" Bank gave a bit of a grin before moving back to the fridge. He was famished, and determined to find some food for himself.

He was trying to not really dwell on this, but suppose it would be good to try and figure out his charge. After food.

Oh, no—Winnie felt a swift rush of distress as she watched Banks inspect the bathroom. She hadn't meant to give him the idea that she was trying to escape—oh, she hoped he wasn't angry with her now—

"N-No, no, no," she said feverishly, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I'm not going to do anything, promise! I-I just—"

Numbly, she looked down at the pile of clothes in her arms, and before she could dig an even deeper hole with her tongue, she hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door gingerly behind her with an earnest: "I'll only be a minute!"

Winnie kept her back pointedly to the mirror as she shed her ratty shift, taking care not to let her eyes linger on the sharpest edges of bones jutting through her skin. Carefully, she collected the new clothes in her arms—a nondescript sweatshirt and an accompanying pair of slacks—and frowned. She didn't like pants—not at all—and it was likely this pair would be too profuse for her scrawny frame, either way. As she slipped on the sweatshirt and noted that it hung below her knees, she decided that would be sufficient.

A moment later, Winnie emerged quietly from the bathroom, carefully folding her discarded clothes and setting them in a pile beside one of the room's walls. "Um—sorry for the trouble," she murmured to Banks, offering a strained smile.

Banks had fixed himself a sandwich, and was munching away happily as he leaned against the small counterspace the place had. He shook off the apology with a little shake of his head, speaking between bites.

"Hey, as long as you're not trying to escape or cause me pain, we're good. Though.." His head tilted to one side as he studied her. Voice lower than before, "You seem like a good kid. You really should eat something, keep up your strength and all that."

Winnie felt an uncomfortable twinge in her chest when Banks called her a good kid—again, a pair of words that seemed hauntingly familiar—and shook her head, nervous and emphatic. "N-No, I'm not," she blurted out, and then, somewhat embarrassed, she clapped her hands over her mouth. She didn't need to say that—she could have just kept quiet.

Tentatively, Winnie glanced aside to the well-stocked fridge and cabinets. Eating, again, was a privilege she hadn't earned, and the thought of eating in front of someone was doubly sickening. Then again, Banks was one step removed from outright ordering her to eat—would refusing nourishment cause him undue trouble? Which was the lesser sin of the two?

"O-Okay," she said reluctantly, walking over to one of the cabinets and pulling the door open. To her embarrassment, she couldn't reach anything beyond the first shelf, and the first shelf appeared to be mostly stacked with spices—salt, cayenne pepper, onion powder. On the second shelf, she could see a blandly-labeled box of saltine crackers, and while such a tasteless snack seemed appropriate for her self-imposed Puritan tastes, she could only hope she could manage to pluck it off the shelf without alerting Banks to her... struggle. Gritting her teeth, Winnie reached up, her foot hiking up onto tiptoe as high as she could go.

Banks didn't think anything of it, and just moved to get the crackers he could see her reaching for. This meant he was temporarily in her space, as he grabbed it from the shelf and put it on the counter for her. "Oh hey, they have some cheddar cheese in here and some sausage. You want?" He actually sounded happy to help.

Winnie kept as fear-stricken still as she possibly could as Banks drew near, as if she half-expected him to lash out and grab her by the throat at any moment, but the man only fetched the box of crackers with what seemed to be an almost chipper demeanor. Winnie squeaked out a quick, quiet thanks, only to stiffen again in trepidation as Banks offered her some cheese and sausage. She didn't particularly want either—cheeses and meats were too nourishing, too much like food and not enough like mere provisions, but Banks's direct offer was quite different from a dispassionate voice on the other end of a door offering her a pre-selected tray of breakfast. It would be rude to turn him down, right...?

"Um, o-okay," she said meekly, her gaze fixed on her hands clasped together over her chest. "Th-thank you."

Banks grinned and actually moved to get a plate from the cabinet and went about putting some of the cheese and sausage on it. Even found where the napkins were before handing it over to her. "Eat up. Sounds like tomorrow is going to be long."

He moved to settle on the edge of the bottom bunk, and he noticed there didn't seem to be other chairs. "Let me know if you need anything." Figured she'd take it up to the top bunk to eat, Banks took his shoes off before laying on his back.

Winnie again offered a bowed head and mumbled expressions of gratitude as Banks more or less fixed a plate of food for her. She couldn't help but feel the pressure—how in the world was she going to be able to eat all of that? It would be rude if she didn't finish the food Banks had directly offered her, but... the thought of it filling her, distending her, was enough to make her feel nauseated. Maybe later that night, if she were careful, she could creep to the bathroom while Banks slept and force some of it back up...?

Banks appeared to be settling in for the night, so she approached the bunk beds and began to climb the ladder—carefully, so she wouldn't lose her foothold—and when her head poked up over the surface of the top bunk, she gingerly placed the plate of food on the bed and then retreated back down the ladder. She was supposed to remove her prosthesis before bed either way, but she hoped Banks would take it as a sign of obedience to see her remove it with his own eyes. A one-legged gimp would have a much harder time escaping than a proper biped, after all.

Carefully, Winnie loosed her stump from the prosthesis and rubbed the clammy skin, relieved that it could breathe after what had turned out to be a long, distressing day. Then, hopping like a songbird back to the ladder, she hoisted herself up and climbed up to the bed, lying back with a small, tired puff of air.

Hesitantly, Winnie reached for her plate of food and began to take rodent-like bites out of the crackers, as tiny and as noiseless as possible. Her gaze drifted up to the ceiling—her only friend for the night—and, with a little pinch of sadness, she took note of a discolored patch where a crack had been painted over.


coded by natasha.
 
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