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Post by grace on Dec 25, 2009 19:35:15 GMT -7
** Nice legs, daisy dukes, makes a man go...
Grace walked down the streets of Clerkenwell, flaunting what she had. Her legs strut down the streets in her lacey stilettos, her hips moving back and forth as she walked. Grace had a very content look on her face behind the large sunglasses that covered her eyes. It was sunset, but she wasn't concerned with the pretty pastel colors that hung in the sky near the horizon.
Grace was on the prowl, looking for her next fix. She was caught in between sex and drugs, but hell, why not try and find both? Grace was hoping that it'd be a busy night. Her eyes wandered along the different surfaces of the building. She was looking in the ally ways for something...
Grace veered into an ally on her right, seeing a shadowy figure leaning up against the wall. It was quite clear he was dealing as a hunched over figure crept away from him, indulged into a small baggy he had just been handed. Grace approached him very calmly, but getting very close to him. He would be able to smell her perfume and see right down her shirt if he had pleased too.
When the man lifted his face, Grace let a small smirk on. He was recognizable, and she had dealt with him before. "Oh Lucas, your here to save me from sobriety!"Grace pulled him closer, getting very flirtatious and kissing him lightly on the lips. He returned the gesture.
"Heh, how much do you want this time, Lacey?" Grace loved the way that her nickname rolled off of Lucas' tongue.
"Just a couple baggies, darling. Unless of course you'd like to join me this evening?" Grace kissed him lightly trailing her hand along his belt line.
"You know I'd love to," he took a deep breath, lowering his lips towards her neck, "but I gotta move this shit fast." Lucas handed her the small bags with white powder in them, and Grace handed him the cash. They exchanged another kiss as well. Grace liked dealing with Lucas, he wasn't like the regular drug dealers; more of a muscle man rather then a stalky character that hides in the corner. At the same time, he was also a werewolf and very attractive.
Grace walked away, pleased that she had found the cocaine early in the night. She tucked them away into her purse and started down the ally way. Now it was time to find a party...
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Dec 25, 2009 20:15:01 GMT -7
A tall figure dressed in a loosely buttoned collared shirt and jeans stepped out of one of the many bars that littered Clerkenwell like an insect swarm. He leaned back on the balls of his feet outside the door, which had loud banter emitting from it, and blinked his eyes repeatedly to adjust them to the neon sky. A slight buzz was fogging up his mind, not too much for him to be considered drunk, but not too little to skip on the enjoyment. Tonight he was not in the mood for spending all hours sitting on a stool, with the occasional whorish woman coming up in hopes of some fun.
In fact, he was leaving due to a rather sour encounter with one such woman. He hadn't had time to blink before she was upon him like a leech, her breath smelling of alcohol and her mouth much too close to his own for comfort. Not one to let even his closest friends so much as pat him on the back on most occasions, this contact earned the leech an attack of venomous words, and immediate removal from her host. She also ended up paying for his most recent drink, most likely. Which didn’t bother Viktor in the slightest.
Not wanting to stand out in front of the bar too long and perhaps invite the now angry whore to follow him, Viktor made his way down the street and around the corner. He weaved his way throughout the vast network of party sites, looking into entryways every so often to determine if it was worth exploring. However, as time went on, he grew even more irritated, still feeling rumpled after his prior experience. The neon lighting was even starting to become bothersome to his sensitive sight, so he ducked down an alley, hoping to escape into the blissful dark and have a bit of time alone.
He breathed in a breath of air, then let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. But in that moment, he realized he was not the sole occupant of the alleyway. A young woman was walking towards him. Gritting his teeth, Viktor leaned against the side of the building next to him and ran his fingers through his dark hair, hoping that she would simply walk by and ignore him. |
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Post by grace on Dec 25, 2009 20:46:34 GMT -7
Grace smiled seeing a new person come into the ally way. She quickly glanced down at herself to see how her outfit looked. Daisy dukes and a tight, low cut corset lined with lace. Her gold bracelets clinked together as she moved them around inside of her purse. Grace eyed the man, gazing seductively at him.
She continued to walk to wards him, very confident in herself. She had found the drugs early, why not a partner? Normally, it wasn't her style, but tonight why not? Go to a party with someone for once. Now, she couldn't guarantee she would leave with she same person, but oh well. Her life was a constant party and people were always coming and going. It made no difference to her.
Grace couldn't help herself. She closed her purse and hung it back down at her side. She stopped in front of the stranger and looked at him with high interest- he was just how she liked them. Hidden in the shadows, mysterious and rough.
Her hand ran across her chest, and she calmly leaned into his neck, inhaling his scent. This was definitely who she wanted. Then again, that's what she always said she came close to a man.
Grace spoke quietly into his ears. "Is it a party your looking for?"
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Dec 25, 2009 21:17:46 GMT -7
It seemed that some greater power was intent upon making Viktor miserable tonight, because as much as his mind screamed for the girl to move on, she did not exit the alley and instead stopped in front of him. He gazed down at her, concealing his feelings behind an inexpressive mask. It would have been a lie to say that he did not find her attractive, however nonetheless he still did not want anything to do with the woman. Unfortunately, she did not share his thoughts of seclusion, and took no time in breaking into his private space.
"Is it a party you're looking for?" the woman whispered into his ear. He was amused and irritated at the same time by that question. Amused because a party was obviously not something one ventured into an empty alley for. Irritated because, well, he wasn’t looking for a party. The vampire did not hesitate to verbalize his annoyance.
"If I vas looking for party, I vould not be here," Viktor replied in his thick Russian accent, grimacing and revealing enough of his teeth to show his elongated canines, which were an instant giveaway to reveal his true nature. "And," he added, wrinkling his nose, "I do not party vith mutts." He was aware that he sounded awfully harsh, but the girl's intrusive behavior was not very appealing, and thus he did not feel compelled to implement some courtesy into his speech. Also, as he was quite easily able to figure out due to the fact that she was so close to him, she was a werewolf.
This said, he stepped to the side of the woman and started to make his way deeper into the alley. |
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Post by grace on Dec 26, 2009 9:35:56 GMT -7
At first, Grace thought she could convince him to come with her.His thick accent was very appealing, and made her want him that much more. Grace flicked her hair behind her shoulder, not taking her eyes off of him. Suddenly a light went off in her head when his fangs became more exposed.
He was a vampire, and that is not what Grace was looking for. She can deal with humans, and of course werewolves. But a vampire?! Out of the question. Grace knew she'd kick herself later on about not knowing before. She turned her nose up in disgust.
Then he spoke again, and it enraged Grace. A mutt?! No, he did not know who he was speaking too. Grace pulled back on Viktor's shoulder roughly, attempting to throw him against the wall. A loud growl emit from her throat, and with her other hand she bought hard down on his face.
"I'd would be watching who you're speaking to, foreigner!" Grace took a random stab in the dark that Viktor was not from around here. Her posture had gone from very sleek and sexy, to violent and defensive in a matter of two minutes.
Grace wasn't looking for a fight, but now she needed some respect.
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Dec 27, 2009 17:52:04 GMT -7
Viktor barely made any headway as far as distancing himself from Were-woman before he was pulled back and into the wall by his shoulder. The impact was not brutal, but it was not equivalent to landing on a soft bed of feathers, either. The grisly brick wall dug into the back of his collared shirt, and he could hear the threads rip as a sizable hole opened up in it. Then the wall scratched into his bare flesh, and that made him angry. He didn’t exactly have a limitless supply of clothes, and the loss of a few shirts would not simply go unnoticed. Alas, Viktor hated shopping.
Of course, some would say he deserved this misfortune for messing with a woman. The vampire, however, would have nothing of such an excuse. Considering his anger to be justified was one of the things that kept him sane. It would not be worth thinking of the actual truth, that he was simply taking his anger of the other woman out on this one. Misdirected anger. That would put him in fault, but he did not want to think of himself this way at the moment. Lies were easier to accept than the truth, in this case.
His dark eyes flashed in anger and they whipped to view the fist that was flying towards his face. With a snarl that matched the ferocity of the woman's, he caught her wrist with his own hand before it could come into contact with him. He brought it down from the high level of his visage, twisting it while he did so, very pissed off at how this night was turning out.
"I would be watching who you're speaking to, foreigner!" Of course, things like his nationality could hardly ever go unnoticed in a conversation.
"Zhat attitude must get you into lots of shit, mutt," Viktor said with a sneer, tightening his grip on the woman's wrist. "I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, unless you vant to lose zhem." |
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Post by grace on Dec 27, 2009 18:33:42 GMT -7
Grace smirked a little at the sound of ripping cloth and raising aggression from Viktor. As much as all of this may have been considered unnecessary, she hated being called a mutt. She thought of herself as a higher class type of girl. A mutt sounded lowly and poor. That just wasn't her class, and Grace knew it never would be.
Grace cringed slightly as he twisted her wrist. For her to say she wasn't impressed by his strength would be a lie, but it also wouldn't be a lie to say she was disgusted with the way he had gone about showing his annoyance.
When Viktor had tightened his grip, Grace's eyes seemed to glow and her back arched back up. As much as she didn't want to ruin her outfit for the night, it sounded so appeasing to transform and rip Viktor to shreds.
Grace giggled a bit, however. "Attitude? Pardon me, but your the one calling someone who was trying to compliment your looks and give you something to do tonight a mutt!" Another growl came from somewhere low in her throat.
"You best be watching what your mouth says unless you want your voice box ripped right out of your throat!" Grace brought her other hand up and put it around his neck lightly. Her nails extended and she pushed them into his flesh. Nothing to hurt him. At least, not yet anyways.
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Dec 28, 2009 17:05:44 GMT -7
Funnily enough, Viktor's nationality was one of the causes of this fight. Maybe not the most important cause, but one of them nonetheless. His use of the verbiage 'mutt' in place of werewolf was not simply a form of disrespect, although he greatly disliked the lot of them, but was also used because he did not like the way the word sounded when it came out of his mouth. 'Verevolf' was not a particularly becoming word, at least from his point of view. Which was why he used the word 'mutt' instead. Of course, the fact that it made them seem like the dirty beasts they were also played a factor. For the sake of argument, however, such information was not useful.
"Attitude? Pardon me, but you're the one calling someone who was trying to compliment your looks and give you something to do tonight a mutt!" Ouch. That burned. Nailed him, really. Forced him to actually have to consider the fact that this fight was due to some serious anger misdirection. Regardless, if he hadn't been angry at this particular woman before, he was now. Which was all that mattered.
"You are zhe one zhat cannot accept vhat you are," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "It is not my fault you are mutt, now is it?" Payback for his ruined shirt. Since this night was turning out so badly, he might as well have a bit of fun. And one thing he liked to do for fun was piss off werewolves. He knew she hated being called a mutt, so now he was using that to get to her. Maybe if he could get her angry enough, she would make a mistake, and he could rid the world of one more of the beasts that had destroyed his life.
Letting go of her wrist, he devoted his attention now to the nails in his neck. With unnatural agility, he ducked down and out of her reach and whipped around behind her. Before she could react, he forcefully pushed her into the wall. Maybe her makeup would smear. |
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Post by grace on Dec 28, 2009 18:30:14 GMT -7
Unaware of Viktors reasons to call her a mutt, Grace remained offended by the terms he had called her. Grace had problem accepting that she was a werewolf, it was when she was called a mutt that it bothered it. It just sounded to low class for her taste, and Grace would have none of that.
BEofre she knew it, Grace was thrown against the wall. She felt the cold hard brick scratch up her chest and face. She let out another growl, more feirce then before, and remained in her spot against the wall for a few minutes. "I don't know who in the hell you think you are! But let it be known I am fully aware and very proud of what I am! I could care less if some leech thinks any different, but he should be warned to keep blood sucking mouth shut unless he wants a fucking fight!"
With that, Grace pushed off of the wall. She stepped back, very aware of her night now being ruined. Slowly, he back started to arch, and her growls became more animalistic. Slowly, the fur started to grow all over her body, and the very anatomy of her changed into something else entirely...
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Dec 30, 2009 11:06:38 GMT -7
Who do I think I am? he thought to himself detachedly, slightly amused. A blood-sucking leech, of course. He didn’t mind being called a leech. He'd gotten used to such insults over the years. Why being called a 'mutt' so antagonized the werewolf was beyond him, but he didn’t mind the results. Maybe, although the werewolf could hardly be convinced of something like this, maybe this fight would actually be good for them both. The whole reason for the fighting might be quite absurd and even ridiculous, but if they got anything out of it, it could be a lot of stress relief. Using a werewolf-- or a vampire, in the woman's case-- as a punching bag was probably the best form of anger management. Forget beating up old cars with a sledgehammer.
That was Viktor, trying to rationalize everything. Give something with no reason a purpose. Really, what he was doing was low. But he could not allow himself to think of it that way, because doing that might get him killed. Even if he were to recognize that what he was doing was all a big mistake, the same could not be said for the werewolf, who was now very offended. She would most likely not sympathize enough to stop from beating his face in.
Viktor stepped a few paces back as the woman started to change into something that should only be seen on television. He knew that the process was not lightning fast, so at the very least he had a few minutes to figure out what exactly he planned on doing next. Honestly, he hadn't counted on her transforming. Silly not to consider, but he had hoped that the fact that they were not extremely far off from civilization would be enough to keep her from chancing it. Apparently he was wrong. The vampire turned his gaze to the end of the alley, where he could see countless civilians walking by, none of them noticing the pair located in the musty shadows. If this fight escalated into something severe, that could change.
A slight breeze stirred dead leaves up from the ground of the alley, and they spiraled up and around Viktor. With his back to the changing werewolf, he scanned the walls of the buildings that were on either side of the alley for some sort of escape. He didn’t plan on running away, but he also didn’t want to be stuck with no way out if the time should come where escape was necessary. A fire escape was attached to one area of the wall, with a garbage disposal bin next to it. He didn’t doubt his ability to jump from one to the other. He didn’t doubt the werewolf's ability, either.
With a cold hand, he reached down to feel the even colder metal that was sitting in the loop of his belt. A gun. He had briefly considered using it. But that would not be fair. And as much as Viktor did not mind being very unfair, he figured that he owed the mutt a little bit of slack. He'd already given her enough shit. And as much as he hated to admit it, he felt guilty.
He turned back around to watch the beast finish its transformation. The last of its bones were grinding and snapping into place. Soon, it'd be a quite literal version of Man vs Wild. Well, it'd be a perfect metaphor, if not for the fact that Viktor was technically not a man. |
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Post by grace on Dec 31, 2009 11:23:48 GMT -7
Grace finished her transformation, the last of her fur coming into place, and her claws finishing their growth. She snapped at Viktor, snarling, with her ears and tail bent low. Her long, soft auborn and black fur stood up, making her look even more menacing. Her long teeth bared at Viktor, wanted tog et at his flesh and rip it apart. Grace howled, not for any particular reason, but just for affect. Grace looked at the shreds of clothing around her, growling more. She hated to transform, but this vampire had pissed her off enough to do so. Now her night was ruined, and her outfit destoryed.
Grace started to circle the man, like a normal wolf to its' prey, eyeing his neck. It would feel so nice to rip out his throat, just as he had bit into so many others. She would have hated to make the first move, but she eye'd the gun. Her big yellow eyes kept vision on it, but saw the hesitation to grab the gun.
Grace continued to circle. Maybe her night wasn't completely ruined. She would like to say she could release some sort of tension, but up until 10 minutes ago, she hadn't had any. At least, however, she would have the chance to rid the world of some scummy leech. Grace snapped at Viktor, snarling very loudly. She wanted him to make a move. No matter how attractive Grace thought he was, looks wouldn't save his ass now.
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Post by AKREE on Dec 31, 2009 12:24:49 GMT -7
Grace;
You have to fix your post, werewolves in this site cannot speak any language, they communicate like normal wolves/dogs, via growls, barks, tail wagging, pawing the ground, whining, etc. Please fix your post as soon as you can.
Thanks.
~Akree |
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Post by Viktor Romanov on Jan 9, 2010 18:01:30 GMT -7
The howl rang in Viktor's sensitive ears, but it wasn’t enough to make him flinch. It was, however, enough to signal that the werewolf was ready to rumble and any time he had had before to escape was now flushed down the drain. Unfortunately. A look at the werewolf's fangs made him debate why he had bothered to pick a fight like this. Of course, he did have his own advantages.
"And how much did zhat outfit cost?" he questioned her, knowing very well she was unable to form words in reply. "Of course, you probably have many more of zhem."
As the werewolf circled him he turned himself around, keeping his eyes on her with the same intensity. He noticed that she had seen his gun. She probably wondered why he hadn't pulled it out yet. Well, he did have this thing for manual fighting. He didn’t keep his toned musculature just for show.
One thing Viktor did have, if it wasn’t an impressive temper, was patience. Especially when it came to life or death matters. His time on earth was limitless, if he only worked hard to save his ass when he needed to. "Remember, you swallow any chunks of leech, and you von't see tomorrow," he reminded her with a smirk. |
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