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Post by cross on Jan 31, 2011 17:56:58 GMT -6
sleep forever now my darling; [/i][/font][/color] i won't DWELL on heaven's CALLING [/center] A pair of golden eyes peered unblinkingly through the night, piercing the empty abyss of the land of darkness. With sharp, unmistakable eyes, it peered at a rat on the ground, nosing at the ground for some sort of morsel of food, unknown of the snake that was only a hair's break to the right. In a sudden flash, the snake struck out, snapping the thing whole, ignoring the pathetic thrashing before it suddenly became slack. As for the night owl, whose wings were spread, ready for flight, a scream shot like a arrow, sonic waves startling it enough for it to change course and fly away, feathers sleek and smooth as it caught a draft from the wind.
Two leagues south, Damien perched on the tree, both feet on the branch, as one hand pressed against the bark, providing him something to hold on to if he were to fall, the other hand was between his booted feet, keeping his balance as he couched under the shadow of the canopy of leaves; a hiding spot from the rays of the moonlight. His eyes seemed to glow with a lusty red as his midnight clock hanged over the side, billowing out with the wind. He eyes were trained on a lone figure, a thief by trade, clomping down the road on his stallion, with a beauty of a beast, if he were anything but human, he would have been interested in keeping him. Along the edges of the path were a pack of soldiers, trained and arms waiting for the signal to trap him. And Damien himself, biding his time to also set forth his own trap. A trap within a trap, how clever.
As the man stopped, Damien new he had sensed the change the wind- actually the shift of the wind allowed him to smell the filth of the conditions the soldiers had been living under for months on end; and he was quick to react, his sword in his hands a moment later, a click of his tongue and the horse galloped on, Damien and the recruit on his tail. The pack sped down the dirt road on horses, hooves and dust flying everywhere, with the old vampire shadowing, his endurance and speed built into the night like a full package of Supernatural.
The thief, no doubt stealing a horse that was rare enough to be in good shape, seemed to be in the lead, and that's when Damien moved, reaching back as he shadowed the man, pulling out his bow and five arrows, notching it and aiming with precision as he let go of the string with a silent twang, the comrade falling, followed by the last four before only the front man was left, urging his horse to move fast, trying to escape the unknown threat, his heartbeat beating clearly, pounding in the vampire's ears as he nimbly jumped from one tree to the next, watching the young thief (we aware of what's happening) panic.
With a sneer, he pulled out his dagger and flicked his wrist, the blade spinning before embedding itself obediently between the man's eyes, leaving only the human boy with his horse. Which he knew wouldn't be up and running for that long. Damien wasn't on a mission really, he was just hungry, and the thrill of the case was wearing off due to the rapidly beating heart of the child. And besides, if he didn't get him soon, his meal will literally be scared to death. And the elder liked his meal as fresh as possible.
Jumping down from the tree, he landed on all fours before jumping again, flying across the horse and tackling the boy to the ground. Both bodies went rolling before the human was shoved against the tree, the vampire straddling him and pinning him down. Pale lips greedily searched for the one sweet spot on his neck, the one spot where he could control the flow of the blood to prevent staining his clothes. In a mess of thrashing limbs, the elder's teeth sank into the skin, before having his drink- sweet liquid pouring down his throat. The body of the mouse stilled as the snake drained him dry. There was nothing but silence as he drank his fill (it wasn't enough though). Not a bird chirped, not a frog croaked, the trees were deathly silent as they watched the supernatural world collide with the natural circle of life. The weak never lives, and Damien was on top of the food chain, he always won.
Shifting into the dead boy's lap, he finally stood to leave, though not before searching to see if anything was of a value that was one the boy. He was a thief after all.
Finding nothing, he smoothed out his cloak, checking for his weapons before running his fingers through his hair, trying to make it stay perfect, as he liked it. Stepping out into the robe, he left the bodies as it was as he started to walk back to the catacombs, looking for something to do. Oh how was it possible that this night happened to be so boring? His eyes flicked from one place to the other, before shouldering his way over to the blood bar, settling down and ordering a glass of blood; elf, as he liked it.
In fact, there was nothing that the old vampire did that he didn't like.
[/size][/justify][/blockquote] drive into the stake, secrets of his
COMPASSION [/color] ----------------------------------------- A blind leap of faith, despair for 906 seasons
i am the heartache, that anyone built by their deception
like hell you'll list your reasons: not the best, i'm sorry.
Song- Heaven's Calling- Black Veil Brides
Credit to: TIANA?![/sup][/center] |
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Post by EZAEL SILVIUS NORWOOD on Feb 3, 2011 12:05:41 GMT -6
  '' take your past and burn it up and let
'' it go , c a r r y on i'm s t r o n g e r than you'll ever know[/color][/font][/color] [/center]
Stone floors, stone walls only amplified the sounds of the people who walked them. The catacombs were a loud place, Vampires out living a life that humans would consider normal if it wasn’t for the smell of wet earth, decaying flesh and blood. Ezael was out, the all vampire with even bigger hair, there was no mistaking him (only for his brother). But the twins had a reputation, they were old, stories, rumours, lies of what their lineage was spread like wild fire. Twins with no mother or father, many wonder who raised them, some say one of the Queens did, no one remembered who though names changed between stories, some say it was just some woman of no importance, others say they raised them selves. Ezael gave no answers to questions, people just needed to keep their nose out of others business.
Ezael was retuning home he was out hunting along with other things. The fresh blood in his system giving his skin a little more color, making his blue eyes a little brighter. The night was still young and the vampire wanted more to do. His eyes scanned the area, few women and men glancing at him. He ignored the looks as his eyes fell on the Blood Bar. A cosy little place with a very simple name. Ezael turned and walked to the doors, giving them a slight push he entered the dark little bar that smelt of blood.
Blood was such an amazing sent, the sent of life, the sent of death. He took it in slowly enjoying how it set his nerves of fire, how a drug addict felt after they took a hit. A feeling of being alive for a moment. He scanned the place, he always did, picking out the weaker ones, the young ones, checking who was stronger. Not that he was going to cause trouble it was what he did. His hand went to the dagger he had that silenced his steps, making sure it was tucked away nicely. He then checked his other pocket, a few coins and a ring he stole. He was going to give it to Lailah, she would like it, small woman’s ring that was shinny. The magpie of an elf amused Ezael enough that he never killed her the day they met and enough that he still went to see her from time to time.
He headed to the bar sitting down on a stool not to far from Damien, but Ezael didn’t know who he was, he only knew those that everyone knew, the king and his little group of friends. He gave his order to the bar tender, fairy, he dug out a coin to pay the man with when his drink arrived. Ezael played with the coin running it along his fingers as his other hand drummed on the table out of boredom. He thought of his brother Dominus and what he was doing at this moment. Funny how Dominus was the older one but Ezael acted like it most of the time.
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tagged: Damien
word count: five one two
notes: sorry its short but I am getting my muse back
outfit: click ! Don’t click I got nothing
lyrics: ...to be loved - papa roach !
credit:NOTHING_PERSONAL @ CAUTION !
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Post by cross on Feb 4, 2011 22:06:53 GMT -6
sleep forever now my darling; [/i][/font][/color] i won't DWELL on heaven's CALLING[/center] Damien leaned forward, one hand reaching up to run his fingers through his hair again, shaping it and twisting it until it fit his liking. From what he had heard, he came close to second when it comes to his compulsive need to make it look perfect- that being under a pair of twins that he kept hearing about, but never actually met. That wasn't surprising, he wasn't much for trivial gossip on two vampires who could be older (though unlikely) then him. He focused primarily on his job, his gold standard reputation as an assassin- or merely a jack of all trades. He spent a good amount of time, at home and rolling on high quality sheets. Other then the few regulars that always asks him to fix their mess, he was mostly sketchy, it was hard to find him, besides a few underground network of connections. He was elusive that way; but if they came looking, he was hard to miss, the air that he holds around him gave off a peculiar feeling of age and strength that was unneeded to be measured. But he knew a lot of the vampires higher up on the celestial chain, he just didn't associate himself with them as much.
But having said that when an older vampire in the room makes the atmosphere shift, he could tell when someone who had an undefinable age entered the room- this vampire, naturally being a man; tall in stature, lacking some muscles but seeing his eyes, clearly body mass is replaced by his powers; his clothes were dark and casual; his eyes? Blue steel, sharp and deadly, almost like a knife- an trait that was interesting to see, seeing his own were honey brown and always glowed with a murderous intent; and what set of the mechanical click in his head with his hair- which could be bigger then the actual size of his head, playing streaking out in all different directions- and Damien, with amusement, could clearly see why he only came in second, however odd his hair always seemed to be, it was short and was nothing compared to the masterpiece that the other vampire had perched on his head like a robin's nest. So he must be it, one of the infamous twins that, no matter how much he tried to ignore, always seemed to come up in the topic, mostly between the females, he could clearly see why; thin but tall, what he lacks in his body makes up for his sharp and aged (not) features. Damien arched a brow when he set the glass down and the door opened, watching the male walk inside.
His lips curled into a devious sneer as he turned back , tilting his head back in an arrogant manner before ordering another glass of elven blood; his pale fingers smoothing the glass with an intricate design. That was Damien, the man who liked to observe more then approach. Granted, though the other vampire's age clearly was worth talking to, he could have been a raving lunatic when spoken to, and to the nine levels of hell if that's what he would be putting himself up to... he's learned that sometimes madness and intelligence coincide often (he was a rather good example), he couldn't stand it when it comes to another person- be it a human or an elf, who lives long enough. But didn't he always say that's there's never enough people who were like him? It was true, many people these days are a little too full of themselves, a woman throwing a tantrum because she doesn't get what she wants- a sister who can't bring herself to do the right thing for an entire realm just because its her sister she is against. It's irritating, but both were foolish enough to ask for his assistance, and he would do anything for some coins here and there (or a pile.. or two). Nevertheless, pity, what if he wasn't insane? Or what he if wasn't mathematically challenged? He would be worth talking to, no doubt about that- however, after this, he had a job to do, and he doesn't plan to be staying around for that long.
Nodding to the bartender, he took the drink up to his lips again, his eyes glinted from the fire that lit the dingy bar. After a moment, he shrugged. Screw it, time was short, he was bored- if the worse case serious came along- the 'lunatic' could provide him a lay or two.
Pushing off the counter, he headed over to the other male, his strides slow, but confident. He stopped and leaned against the bar, not close enough to personally invade on to the latter's space (from experience and being one, vampires had a tendency to be touchy when it comes to space... defensive creatures they were), but close enough to be acknowledged. For a silent moment, his eyes picked apart the being with interest, noting the mannerisms and every last detail he could possibly pick up within the course of five seconds. Drumming his fingers, impatience, maybe? Toying with the coin? Could he be one of those vampires who couldn't possibly sit still? His silence and utter lack of interest in the bar? He was secluded, closed off, a book bound and locked with a hidden key somewhere. His lack of response to the bartender showed Damien that he wasn't the sickeningly caring type either, probably rude also, he might have little experiences with being social- he's untrustworthy and more importantly, doesn't trust others.
Sitting on the stool, he relaxed, giving off the clear impression that he was more the utterly bored (which he was), and wasn't looking for anyone, but needs someone to talk to before he goes and jumps off a cliff (which, again, he was). He picked up the drink again, his moves sophisticated, not trying to impress anyone, but merely doing it to catch an eye (and feeling three pairs of eyes before holes into his back, it worked).
'Slow night?' he asked, the words picking up another meaning. Of course it was a slow night, it was always night- that's why it's called the Land of Darkness. Raising a glass to the Queen who wished it to be so.
[/size][/justify][/blockquote] drive into the stake, secrets of his
COMPASSION [/color] ----------------------------------------- A blind leap of faith, despair for 1049 seasons
i am the heartache, that Ezael built by their deception
like hell you'll list your reasons: sorry it is long.
I got carried away. (btw-Saw sucks)
Song- Heaven's Calling- Black Veil Brides
Credit to: TIANA?![/sup][/center] |
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Post by EZAEL SILVIUS NORWOOD on Feb 7, 2011 16:15:13 GMT -6
'' take your past and burn it up and let
'' it go , c a r r y on i'm s t r o n g e r than you'll ever know [/color][/font][/color] [/center]
Ever get the feeling you are being watched? Ezael had that feeling, it was a little unsettling since he knew there was a old vampire in here. Age was important, feedings were often pushed side due to lack of control and power one only gets with age. An older vampire, one who stopped counting the years were powerful, skills are enhanced, reflexes toned. A older vampire was a deadly foe. Ezael had no idea if this vampire was older then him since long ago he forgot his age, stopped counting just let the years slip by. But the watching, he felt it, like he was being torn open and poked at to see how he worked. His fingers stopped drumming and cold blue eyes turned slightly in the direction it was coming from. Ezael looked the male over before turning back to his drink.
He him self knew a few things about the other in that glance. One, he just hunted, the fresh blood making pale skin a little more healthy of a color. He was out side, out side the walls of this underground city, the dirt told him this. And the last thing, he seemed interested in Ezael.
Bring the glass to his lips, taking a taste of the sweet blood he listened to the other walking closer, in the corner of his eye he watched him lean against the bar. Ezael was curious, not to many people approached him, not even other old vampires. He stayed far enough away that personal space was not invaded. He was not sure what to do since the other did not bother to start a conversation so he just sipped his drink once more giving his lips a lick.
‘slow night?’
Ezael turned now when he was spoken to he set the cup down. “Depends on what you mean of slow night.” Came his answer with a hit of arrogance. His fingers ran along the glass as he looked at it. “And for you? Slow night?” Ezael was not good at this, small talk, new people made him feel awkward. He often didn’t know what to say, and he knew he was being judged.
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tagged: Damien
word count: three six four
notes: sick and again muse issues
outfit: click ! Don’t click I got nothing
lyrics: ...to be loved - papa roach !
credit:NOTHING_PERSONAL @ CAUTION !
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