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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 15:24:42 GMT -7
Her head was down as she walked. The streets were barely alive. Not anything like the famous rush hour. She looked through her bangs, to make sure everyone was keeping distance from her. The moon was almost full so she knew it was only a matter of days before she defied the laws of physics again. She looked down her coat to her shoes. They were old. She had brought them from the farm. They were running shoes, but now they just barely held together. She bet if she started running they'd fall apart. She wasn't in much better condition. Her eyes were sunken, her skin taught against her once pant-dropping face. She lifted a hand and rubbed the rough skin on her face. It was so dry. Her mouth felt the same. Like sand paper, or the inside of a dried apple. She tired to wet her mouth with her tongue, but that was a dry sponge too.
She heaved a sigh and watched her breath crystallize and coil around her, almost like a plum of toxic smoke. She looked back down at herself, gazing at the ripped and dirty shirt, old and worn pants. She was so awful. But she didn't care. She knew she should probably find something to not be depressed about, so maybe she could sleep at night, but why bother? She was a monster. According to books, monsters were supposed to suffer.
Filled with self pity, she continued to walk with her head down, her eyes only on the few steps away of her, trying to block out the fact she was carrying a backpack full of raw meat. The sounds of life dripped out in the background and the smell of water filled her nose. She lifted her head up and looked about quickly. She recognized the bridge she was on so she just looked back down. It didn't matter this bridge had been a crime scene on more than one occasion. Maybe, if she was lucky, some dirty criminal with a twitchy trigger finger would show up and actually make the world a better place. She could only hope.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 9, 2010 16:04:51 GMT -7
The bridge was a gorgeous structure at night, the gentle curve it lit up in full glory, catching the River Thames just so...it was just a sight to see. The architect in Will appreciated it, it just took his breath away.
Of course, the rowdy delinquent within him wasn't enjoying the view. But rather, was currently throwing the bounty of a sack of rocks that he had happened to drag with him. The young man was nailing boats as they lazily floated by. He'd pull his arm back, let one fly and with every metallic -ting- he'd whoop in achievement.
Perhaps it was massively immature for enjoying such an activity, but, well, Will wasn't one to judge his own actions, after a long day down at the docks, he was currently unwinding the only way he knew how: a bit hooliganism.
He hummed a little, almost doing a bit of a weaving dance as he finished off the bag and threw it over, he'd have been happy just to leave and head home, but the sight of some haggard looking girl made him pause for a moment. It hit a bit too close to home, it hadn't been so long ago he had looked the same. It wasn't hard for him to imagine some hard luck story or another, whether or not that was the case.
"Oi there!" Of course Will wasn't too sure if she'd listen, or run...but still he waved a hand, trying to flag her down "Y'right? Hallo." He started over towards Clary slow-like, hoping not to startle her too much, but as it was, he had just been causing destruction of property, and well, he looked a bit tough himself, dirty from working down at the docks and generally looking rough to begin with.
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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 16:30:19 GMT -7
There was some sort of bell noise, going on below the bridge. Like metal being struck; a semiconsistant pinnng pinnng, followed by the occasional dud. She couldn't pin point it exactly, but she could tell it was coming from the other side of the bridge. she glanced up, seeing a hunched over figure doing something across and in front of her. She couldn't figure out what he was doing exactly, she was much too sleep deprived to think it out clearly. He might be dropping body parts, for all she knew.
Even though some long asleep bit of humanity was curious about what he was doing--maybe a she, she couldn't be sure--she kept walking. If anything she picked up her pace. She wanted to be home, where she would lock and barricade the door and remain there until her painful transformation into a monster and back into human form were over. She pulled the thin jacket around her. Her pockets jingled with what was left of her pay check, her bag radiated cold air. Her heart was thumping in her chest for some reason and in only two seconds she realized why. 'Oi there!' She jumped sideways, away from the voice and held still for a moment. Be talking to someone else. Be talking to someone else. She chanted the mantra and looked over her shoulder, wind blew across her face and cleared it of hair. She saw full well the man was talking to her. And heaven forbid he was coming closer.
So maybe he was dropping body parts? Come to free himself of witnesses? Her heart calmed at the idea. Hopefully he wasn't some sort of sick pervert and would prolong the process and just shoot her. He continued to talk, maybe a greeting, or to ask her to stop. Which ever it was, she didn't hear it exactly, but she did remain still. He kept getting closer. Her palms got sweaty as he came towards her. "What?" Her voice cracked from misuse and she looked away, shamed even more by how weak it sounded. Way to be a victim, Clarissa. Was it odd she heard her mother's voice in her head besides her own?
From the look of the man coming at her, he was some sort of laborer, he smelled like low tide and looked in need of several baths. She probably did too, but she didn't care. She had no one to impress or anything. Her arms folded across her chest as she looked him over.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 9, 2010 16:42:48 GMT -7
"What?"
Will almost for a moment looked confused by how the girl was acting...she seemed...scared? Annoyed? Hell he might even venture she was fucking pissed. He tilted his head a little and then looked at himself, then at her, and then back at himself. Was something wrong? He couldn't tell. Really he could never tell these sorts of things.
"Ummm..." he trailed for a bit, not sure what to say. "Y'look like fuckin' hell, y'right?" His accent was bad, cockney no doubt, and what with the lowness of his voice, it almost sounded like he was gargling marbles, but he did look concerned.
He kept looking her in the face while he could, his blue eyes trying to make eye contact as he waited for a response. That was until he put two and two together and somehow managed to get four. She thought he was some sort of sicko! Will winced a little and then finally tried to say something. "I mean...well...I ain't tryin' t'cause a fuss...it was just that I mean...you look fine but...no...no I didn't mean it like that, I meant, you look like...you 'aven't eaten in a while." he stammered as he spoke, managing to be the awkward nerd even when looking like some sort of thug.
"What I mean is:" he finally forced out trying his hardest to sound assertive. "Do you need 'alp miss? You look in rough shape." There, he had said it, and he looked almost proud of that, nodding as he finally got his thoughts together.
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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 16:55:16 GMT -7
Clary looked at him with an absolutely blank expression. Not even a twitch of her eye, corner of her mouth, or a jaw flex. She was just looking at him like she looked at everything, with a detached and a barely-there sense. Like it was a dream she was watching, instead of being in. She drew in a long breath when he started to talk. She had gotten used to the English accent but his was loud and annoying enough to make her clench her teeth. She knew, partly, her own country Irish was enough to make some pull their hair--but it's not like she spoke at all. And he seemed to be talking enough for both of them.
What was he saying? She blinked several times when the point of his words got to her. He figured she had thought he was some sort of pervert, and now he was stammering, and putting his foot in his mouth at the same time. She watched, her face still bland, though she was actually paying attention now. If he wasn't here to cause trouble, then what in the hell did he want?
"You definitely seem like the type to give out that sort of advice." Her words were mean, her intent was mean, but her tone was tired. It took her a lot longer to say it than she wished. Her throat was so dry. She let out a long breath and looked down. He was paying her too much attention. "I'm great. You know what, I absolutely wonderful. The moon's high and--and--and--" She trailed off, her eyes darted up to the sky, clouds blotted out the moon, but she could just tell where it was. She looked down at him. "I really don't have time for whatever you're selling." She said, punctuating her words with a stiff nod. Whatever he had looked like it was covered in AIDS or some other sort of incurable disease. She drew in another breath, her nostrils flared and then she turned around and started walking away, her head bent.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 9, 2010 17:13:52 GMT -7
Rather than be insulted, Will just laughed, and shook his head. Burying his face in his hands for a second. "Y'right about that, on both 'counts." He rather liked a bit of humor made at his expense, after all...life was nothing more than a big joke, so he had no issues laughing at himself. "I am a bit fugly...I'd say...say...more like quite a bit. But I also know someone in a bind if I saw one. "
This was now something he was a bit curious about, she seemed a mean little blighter, but she didn't exactly tell him to bugger off so he followed along.
"I'm great. You know what, I absolutely wonderful. The moon's high and--and--and--"
"Oh yea...y'sound goddamn fabulous love. " he nodded in mock enthusiasm and gave her a thumbs up. "I f'one believe you." Will smirked, rolling his eyes as he loped along, "Which is commendable, most bums don't hang on t'their optimism. You're a merit to your people." he wasn't inclined to be the mean sort, but he'd stick a barb in where he could get it. She looked like a weathered out old addict, but...he doubted that anyone that sharp was hooked on smack. To him, she seemed lonely, but to Will, everyone seemed a bit lonely, he tended to project on people.
"I ain't sellin' shit...just makin' sure y'ain't gonna fall over dead 'ere on the bridge..."
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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 17:27:38 GMT -7
Her jaw clenched. He had not only the nerve to follow her, but to keep talking. Her hands balled into fists and then she folded her arms tightly across her chest, shoving her hands into her armpits. She bristled when he poked fun at her. Where in the fuck did he get his nerve?! And why in the hell was he following her?! She closed her eyes for a moment, hoisted her bag more comfortably on her shoulders and glared at him. Her arm returned to tightly around her chest. "my people." She deadpanned. Oh yeah. What sort of 'people' would enjoy having her? She was a beast. A canine a canis lupus?! There certainly were not 'that kind' of people. Then, she realized, she did look a bit like a bum or some kind of junky. That's probably what he saw anyway. She laughed. Her laugh echoed a bit and got higher pitched as she did, her shoulders shook with the hilarity in irony, in her own despair and misery. The laugh cut off just as abruptly as it started.
She never considered taking any sort of drug, but what if that helped her and her problem? Stop being stupid, it was her mother's voice, again. She looked sideways at him. In his own way he might be charming, or something like that, but she had long since forgotten any thing of the sort. She wasn't 'attracted' to anything but raw meat anymore. The sort of processed and still covered in blood kind. She dry swallowed, her throat ached a little and she let out a cough but that only amplified the pain. She glanced sideways at the bridge. Suicide was always at the back of her mind, but her self-preservation would always kick in at the last moment. It was a persistant son of a bitch.
"It'd do more good," she muttered in reply to his comment of falling over dead on the bridge. The Thames would sweep her body away for slow decomposition and then get picked apart by some starving fish. No one would miss her, 'cept her parents but only because they had no idea what happened to her. She drew in a long breath, her eyes constantly blinking. "You can't help." She said quietly. She hadn't even considered the notion that he did have the cure to lycanthropy, but she felt too ashamed to admit something like that. And who in the hell would? As far as she knew, she was just some sort of mistake, and no one could help her because of the rarity of her situation.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 9, 2010 17:49:49 GMT -7
Maybe Clary was right by comparing Will to a disease, because currently he was much like herpes, she had caught him, and now, she'd be hard pressed to get rid of him...if she was lucky he might go away. He was tenacious like that-focused, and utterly annoying as piss if you didn't want him around.
He was friendly, he could be snarky, but it wasn't like he was looking at her as anything than someone who looked in bad shape and could use a friend, or at the very least someone to hate so much they laid off the self-hate for a while. Will was good at tolerating that sort of abuse.
"It'd do more good,"
"Boo-fucking-hoo." His smile faded some as she got so fatalistic. "Really, is it all that bad? I mean, I dunno what's got ya...but really? That bad?" Will shrugged, he had been down pretty low himself, hell he had probably talked shit like that himself, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be skeptical about the 'oh woe is me' thing that the woman before him was going on about.
But his frown wasn't there for long, replaced by another smirk as he swung his arms as he walked, all things considered he was mellow. "I mean I bet you'll say: I dun understand, but hey, you'd be surprised." Will hummed a little, looking down the street, it seemed everyone he met had a big chip in their shoulder, it was funny in a sad little way.
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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 18:01:05 GMT -7
She didn't bother redirecting her glare from straight ahead to him. It wouldn't deter him in anyway, she was sure of it. He was juiced up on some Jesus-punch and wasn't going to let her sour attitude or snarky thoughts--she knew she could probably get him to go if she really started talking but she lacked the motivation--bother him in the slightest. He was like a stray dog, and even though she didn't feed him, he's going to yap at her heels until she throughs him a bone.
"I mean I bet you'll say: I dun understand, but hey, you'd be surprised." That comment alone got his attention, even in her anger, she felt a seed of hope began to grow in the dark depths of her mind. What. If. He. Did. It was such a shot in the dark, but the feeling that washed across her face made her stop walking for a moment. What if. What if. What If. What if.
What if he didn't believe he? Well, of course he wouldn't. Maybe she should try, just to spite him. "And you'd be surprised. boy." She let out a long sigh and started walking again. She probably shouldn't have said something so open-ended. Now he'd be curious and tell her to 'try him'. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Fine." She muttered to herself and she looked at him again. "Every month since three years ago, I've forcefully changed into a disgusting monster. My diets completely blown away all reason and eat what prior coulda killed me. That about covers what's 'wrong' with me. Know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Do you?" She started out emotionless, just stating facts, but about the time she said 'killed me', her frustration and anger seeped into her words and her volume started increasing. She leaned to the side from the power of her coughing fit and when she got over it, she lifted her head to see if he was still standing there. If he had any sense he'd already start walking the other way.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 9, 2010 18:22:39 GMT -7
"Every month since three years ago, I've forcefully changed into a disgusting monster. My diets completely blown away all reason and eat what prior coulda killed me. That about covers what's 'wrong' with me. Know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Do you?"
Will seemed to take this with a lot of consideration, ruminating it through his head as he looked at Clary with a dull expression. "Sooo...what you're sayin', is that you're a werewolf." he said it nonchalantly, his roomie's ex-wife was a werewolf, and she was a pretty alright lady.
He wasn't too impressed that she was this worked about about all this. "So what, you got turned into a werewolf? You know...if you ask around...that means you're in a good place." Percy was certain the city was ruled by the beasts, and other supernaturals, but that was because he was crazy. Hell he was starting to make Will a little bit crazy too.
The scabby looking young man looked apologetic and then scratched the back of his neck. She sounded angry, and maybe a little sick, but he wasn't scared, but he rarely was, he was brave in that stupid sort of way.
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Post by spider on Feb 9, 2010 21:57:07 GMT -7
Clary looked at him. long and hard, trying to figure out if he wasn't pulling her leg. "What...do you mean?" She tried to grasp what he said, and what he meant by that: "you got turned into a werewolf? You know...if you ask around...that means you're in a good place."
He couldn't be serious. He didn't mean it. "Good place." He thought she was crazy, and was just being nice to her. That's all. That was all it had to be. He was doped up on some new sort of crack, and felt like being a jackass to the next person he saw, and he caught Clarissa in his crosshairs. She looked up at the sky again and looked back at him.
"There couldn't possibly be any reason why those things would be anything good. It defies nature. It's disgusting. Painful. Wrong. It's absolutely wrong." She slowly slipped into a quite mutter where her eyes blinked excessively and her head twitched back and forth in a haphazard shake. She couldn't accept what he was saying when it was so wrong.
Her sense of reality had been so warped by her believing she was the only one out there, didn't leave room for her to speculate that maybe there were others like her. She was naturally pessimistic in that sense, and this new piece of information was unlike anything she had dreamed of. Were people like her better off? Was there really a place she could, like, go to, and live there with others like her? Maybe she could find a way to un-make it, maybe make herself normal again? Then she'd go back to Kilkenny and never leave again. She so wished she could go home, to see her parents, but she'd never be able to explain. And since her parents were so religious, they'd have her burned or something equally awful. She shuttered at the speculation. Then her eyes turned back to the man who had since talking to her, annoyed her like crazy and then dropped this absolutely tempting idea. She turned to face him, every line and shadow of her face were tense; serious.
"Tell me what you know." She wasn't asking him.
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Post by Will Warrender on Feb 11, 2010 16:33:49 GMT -7
"There couldn't possibly be any reason why those things would be anything good. It defies nature. It's disgusting. Painful. Wrong. It's absolutely wrong."
Will hummed a little as she talked, seeming utterly apathetic by her revulsion, really he just could not care either way. "Well, I'm not one to judge. But they just seem like anyone else to me..." he really was confused, sure Percy hated them, but Percy was what Will considered: intolerant.
"Tell me what you know."
But it seemed that the dark haired girl was utterly on the warpath, in stark contrast to the laid back blond who was near her. He was almost confused that she was so adamant against her race, but thinking about it, he started to put things into place. She was a werewolf. She didn't like it. And apparently it made her a raving bitch.
Made sense to him.
"Well...'parently, if y'can believe my crazy shut in of a flatmate...London is chalk full of werewolves, " he waved a hand around lazily as he explained things to Clary, his expression still amiable, but now looking a bit unimpressed. "An' those wolves, he says...run a great deal of everything y'see around you. A privileged class...if y'will." He could neither confirm nor deny those accusations, but hell, he had heard crazier, and he really deny that supernaturals didn't exist, so he didn't dare say they weren't working some sort of shadow government.
After all his mother had been a vampire...fortunately though, he dodged that bullet.
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Post by kira on Feb 11, 2010 21:14:08 GMT -7
It was a good night to be a wolf. At least, so Meadhbh thought. The full moon sent fire into her blood. Her senses felt more acute and her animal instincts forced wild thoughts into her mind. Everyone she saw was potential prey, even those doused in the musty scent of a werewolf or in the more sour odor of a vampire. The one smell that most attracted her was the sweet aroma of a human male and every time she passed one, her head would turn toward them and a soft growl would reverberate through her chest. Most hastened away from her at least point, and there were a few who were bold enough to look back at her and smile, but then at seeing the grin that she wore contained rows of pointed teeth, they would continue on her way.
She was fine with this, looking for a more secluded area to find a meal. Even now, when she approached someone only ever other minute or so, she still thought it too likely that she was being watched by someone who would object to her picking up a snack. So, she kept walking, keeping her clawed hands deep in her pants' pockets, trying to find a deserted alleyway in which to find or lure a meal. Now as she came to the edge of the bridge, a few interesting smells caught her attention. The most overpowering was the odor of semi-fresh, raw meat. It made her mouth water slightly as she moved closer to it. There was also a human nearby, a male. She bit her lip softly. But, there was also another wolf, not too far off.
Meadhbh stopped, tilting her nose up to better figure where the two scents were coming from. Both the human and were were on the bridge, stopped. She didn't sense that either was too worried about the other, so she had to guess that they were friends, or at least casual acquaintances. The human might be no good then, if the wolf tried to keep him from her. She would have to leave him then, though she was still curious as to what the situation between the two was. After taking a few more steps, the pair came into sight. It was clear now that the smell of meat came from the wolf. Odd, that she wasn't going out and killing fresh meat. She just hoped that she hadn't bought the meat, that would be so low for a were.
"There couldn't possibly be any reason why those things would be anything good. It defies nature. It's disgusting. Painful. Wrong. It's absolutely wrong."
"Well, I'm not one to judge. But they just seem like anyone else to me..."
"Tell me what you know."
"... An' those wolves, he says...run a great deal of everything y'see around you. A privileged class...if y'will."
"Damn straight," Meadhbh thought, grinning softly. But she hadn't just thought it, she realized a moment later, she had said it, and rather loudly. It was a fine way to interject yourself into a conversation, though: directly, and looking like a stalker.
With an almost playful, unbidden giggle, she half-skipped toward the couple. In the back of her head she knew that she should stop seeming so damn happy, but the night pulled her to be so. At seeing the state which both were in, though, her giddiness was tamped out. There was no nicer way to put it, they looked like shit, the woman more markedly so. Meadhbh stopped a few feet away and opened her mouth to speak, but all she could manage was a sigh as she studied the wolf up and down. She really looked like hell. Not at all taken care of, like she needed a lot of help.
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Post by spider on Feb 12, 2010 22:22:44 GMT -7
She was visibly frustrated at his lack of information. But he wasn't really that much of a good source anyway. She would need to meet this flatmate, crazy shut in or not--then again she was one herself and knew the language pretty well--and get him to talk to her. She sighed through her nostrils and on the next pull of breath, a similar yet different smell crossed her nose. Though it was dampened by the overpowering smell of the raw meat in her bag and his dirty filth, she smelt...herself? Something the same as what she smelled, but different. Some instinctive reflex made her look up, her eyes landed directly on a woman not too far away, had she been normal she might not have even seen her, but she was cursed, so at least her outline was visible. She watched her warily for a moment, something dark was starting to churn in her insides and her eyes widened in panic.
That worming feeling was what she felt every time before she started the change. She looked down at her self and then back up at him, her excuse was already on her lips, but then the woman spoke. "Damn straight," Her eyes wildly flipped back to her, while she took two semi-large steps away from the man--she hadn't thought to ask the man's name, mostly because she wanted her own to stay secret--and faced the skipping woman.
With a haggard expression, she folded her hands across her stomach, she felt her ribs even through the jacket. Pathetic, a voice whined at her. "You..." She stopped talking because her voice cracked and she coughed so hard she gagged, the dry state of her throat and her fear of beginning the change didn't help at all. "You're one of them." She accused, all hate she wanted to have in her voice just sounded like pain. She straightened up and her hands tightened around her sides. Why in the hell did she stop to talk to him again?
Oh right, she had sickeningly thought he might kill her. She looked down at her shoes. She should have just went home, ate her fucking meat and changed into a monster like she did every month. She would have changed back in the next two or three days and went back to work, looking even more frail and thin and act like nothing happened when her bossed asked her-for the bazillionth time--if she was doing drugs or not. She never answered the senile old woman. She looked back up from her thoughts, eying the woman warily. There was something about her that spoke of pure power, and Clary was admittedly afraid of it. Maybe she'd kill me? It was a pitiful hope.
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Post by kira on Feb 14, 2010 20:08:42 GMT -7
There were too many pathetic people these days, and Meadhbh was honestly getting rather sick of them. It might be better for them, and everyone else, if they all just offed themselves. But she was being a hypocrite, having been the very poster-child for pathetic once. Morrison had found her then, thank God, and now he found this world much easier to live in, even enjoyable sometimes. She wasn't about to do as Morrison had for her, and take this woman under her wing, but she could at least help her a little.
The wolf musn't have been turned too long ago, as she wasn't able to control her transformations quite yet. The woman shook now as she battled with the urge to turn, the pull of the full moon making this much more difficult for her. This wasn't the only thing that made her a thing to pity. The meat in her bag was sad. Meadhbh had to guess that she hadn't hunted it herself; she would have eaten it right then and there.
The wolf glanced over at the dirty man who the woman had been talking to and smiled softly. He looked like a bum; dirty and unkempt, a bit haggard, and working this late... "You know," she said slowly, moving toward the man carefully, not wanting to have to chase him, "there is a great meal right here if you can't help but transform. I'd think you'd enjoy a very fresh meal for once."
Meadhbh herself wasn't very hungry, though she would enjoy a little hunt, just to relieve her burning ache for a bit of violence. Her smile turned into a grin as she pictured tearing at this man's face and she could feel that familiar pressure in her fingers as her nails grew in length and sharpness. "It's not as if you know him too well," she growled, thrusting out a hand to grab the human's arm, "is it?"
(( Squeeji! :{o ))
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