Of Tempests and Rainbows [Open]

[Angel Malcon]

I wanted to hold your heart to my ear like a seashell.

The night was silent. The only movement came from the gentle breeze whispering through the park, and the ash that it carried with it swirling and rising and falling again. The trees barely moved; they'd long since died and become brittle from the fires that once raged here, in the dark days that weren't even a memory to the young-looking vampire that now walked among them.

Till I could hear the tides of every tear you'd ever cried.

Angel Malcon did not know why he loved Hyde Park so much. The place was ugly and desolate, and not many dared even venture into it for fear of hearing the ghostly screams of the humans that died here all those years ago. But Angel, slightly superstitious though he was, did not believe in ghosts -- and even if such things existed, he didn't imagine that they'd hang around the place they died, wallowing in their old memories.

Then build islands in the seas of your eyes so you'd see there's land to swim to.

The dried, cracked grass crunched and collapsed under his feet, the only sound that would indicate he was there. His breathing was steady. He didn't fear this place. He didn't fear the dead. But he certainly didn't like to ponder what was lying in the grass. The politicians, the government, did litte by way of moving the bodies from Hyde Park when it was practically razed to the ground. Who knows whose bones remained, long since disinigrated to join the ashes which swirled with the wind? And who knows exactly how many people were burned with the trees, never to see the future hell their city would endure?

Hold your hand and say, "Storms are born from the same sky we write hymns to when the sun shines."

He didn't like to think about it, yet he came here time and again. Yes, he loved Hyde Park -- loved it and hated it, as he loved and hated himself sometimes. Perhaps he came here to remind himself who he was fighting for, and why. The wolves did this, he knew. They pushed, the vampires pushed back, and the bodies that were now nothing but bones and ash were the result of the crossfire. It didn't mean anything. They were innocent, their deaths were meaningless, and Angel found himself hating them and the park and the wolves who no doubt started it.

Sometimes it takes tempests to wake rainbows that will wind our pain into halos.

He found his usual burnt, twisted tree and sat with hs back against the trunk of it. There, he looked to the sky. He thought about lighting one of the clove cigarettes in his pocket, but decided against it; why add more ash to this place? There was a lunar eclipse tonight, but not in the usual sense. The moon didn't disappear; it was still there, but with a rust-red tint to it. He knew it was an event caused by the revolutions of the Earth and Moon, but the superstiton in him was hard to ignore. Blood on the moon, that was what people used to call it. He stared up at it for what felt like a very long time. Blood on the moon.




[[OOC: The type of eclipse described is very much real. It looks something like this.]]

[Nessarose Allens]

Blood on the moon. She looked up, her hands were jamed in her pockets so as to avoid the cold that battered at her bare skin. Her brown eyes were fixed upon the sky in what seemed and almost forlorn and mourning way. So must waste, yet it would never end. Was their aim and their task inevitable? Would such a thing, such a disaster happen again? It would not be prevented. A sigh escaped her lips and she dragged her eyes wearily away from the moon. Such a thing was rare to see, yet now that it had arrived she wished that it would leave again, then she would not have to be reminded of the vast amount of loss that occured here.

Though she'd not been born when Hyde Park was razed to the ground, she knew exactly what it had been like when it had been beautiful and flourishing. Envy struck her when she thought of that, and she shook her head lightly. Images in libraries and on the internet showed her exactly what she had missed and after a while she had simply stopped looking; though she never stopped caring. This tragic event was simply another to add to her list, another reason for the destruction of the Government to become real. She would not rest or stop until that moment, even after death.

Which will come swiftly to you.

Yes, i'm sure it will.

It was a rare event for her to agree with the voice and, as she walked through the desolate park she shook her head in amazement. There was a place here that the frequently visited, a place in the near center, she headed there now. Her pace was slow, her head was down and the familiar weight of her satchel reassured her as it nudged her side. Nessa was not afraid of ghosts, if they lingered here then they could not hurt her, she'd suspect that even if they could, they would not. She was bent on the destruction of their murderers, they'd help her if anything. She brushed her hair out of her face and slowly knelt to the ground, years ago she had planted a seed, a tree. It would not have made much difference but it would have been nice to have something green to look at. With a sigh she brushed at the dirt with her hand. Dead. She'd visited here once a week since she planted it, yet it had died. Just like everything else in this land. "No such luck." There was a mourning tone in her voice as she shook her head slowly yet she did not drag herself up from the kneel.

Well? What did you expect?

Anything but this.

Slowly, as if pained, she rose to her feet and glanced around. There was a look of muted anger in her eyes, the kind that slowly accumulated until it burst open in a fiery rage. It had happened before and that had not been good. Lightly, she fingered the satchel, making sure it was still there before she turned to walk out of the park. Never did she walk on the burned grass, only the paths, she was not so disrespectful as to abuse a cemetary.

Her usual scanning of surroundings landed her sights on a young man, sitting underneath a charred; twisted tree like one would have done when this place was green. The sight was so odd, so unexpected that she gave a small breath of laughter and slowly walked over to him. Nessa was less experienced with vampires, she could not tell them by sight, not until she saw the fangs. He remained; as of yet, a human to her. "A strange place to collect ones thoughts." She muttered in an almost sarcastic voice, although the heart had gone from the sarcasm. Her greeting mimiked the landscape dead and without emotion.

[kira]

Meadhbh usually loved nights like this, with the cold that made her so alive and such a bright moon, but tonight, she was fighting a fit of seizures. She knew that she shouldn't have left that night; she hadn't been feeling well at all. Morrison wasn't around to tell her to stay home though, and he was always her common sense, that was one of the things he had seemed to neglect to teach her about.

She believed that the park would have made her feel better, it was home after all, and it always had been. It was home even more now that she was feeling so ill; the dead trees reflected the feeling of darkness and pain that crept inside of her head. This was why everyone was so prone to avoid the park; it was only a place of grey, bleak, pain.

She was glad the park at least made her calm, since she had grown up in the same sort of darkness and near seclusion. If only her body would let her rest and her head would quiet, could she fully enjoy the night; the silence and blood red moon. Groaning against the weight of her own head, she dropped to the ground, holding her hands to her temples.

"Morrison," she grumbled, "why don't I ever think?" She curled up in a ball, forcing her softly twitching limbs to stop. Why had she stopped taking her medicine? It didn't matter that she'd been seizure free for 8 months, that was the fault of the pills. Morrison sometimes had her go without the medicine so that she could make it last for longer than it should, but it would only be for a few days, at most a week, not for the month she'd gone without it.

Voices fell upon her ears now, and although they weren't close or even loud, they sounded like explosions, magnified by the migraine-intense pain in her head. She groaned loudly and stuffed her head under her arms, trying to block out the voices. Another groan escaped her before she realized that she should try not to draw attention to herself, being that she incapacitated, so she forced herself to only whimper quietly, hoping the pain would dissipate soon.

[Angel Malcon]

He heard her coming long before she saw him. To his ultrasensitive vampiric ears, her approach was like a normal person hearing a car passing; not disturbing, but quite obvious. He'd taken a moment to glance at her as she'd stood not terribly far off. She was of average height, and obviously human. Her mousy brown hair fell around her shoulders in pleasantly curling tresses.

He knew her thin, pointed face, just as he knew nearly ever face in London (even for a vampire, Angel's memory was exceptional). Her name was Nessarose Allens, and more rumors flew around her than most people he'd inquired after. That was his job, after all; to sift through rumors and obtain (often by force) the facts. And the facts were these: Nessarose Allens was a druggie, very mentally unstable, a very proficient hacker, and involved in...something.

It was the something that bothered him. He knew that the humans were doing something, and that that something was planning something, and that it would cause something. As far as Angel was concerned, the word something had grown to be decidedly annoying.

After confirming her identity, he looked back up to the moon. He could see why all the humans used to worship the sky, used to place their gods in it. Up there was perfection, a beautiful clockwork of stars and planets -- down here, there could be only flaw.

He knew she'd noticed him when he heard her footsteps crunching and cracking on the grass.

"A strange place to collect one's thoughts," she said, her voice flat.

He didn't respond right away. He looked at the moon for a moment, and then looked at her. Angel was an expert at interpreting and using body language; the girl showed no fear of him, only curiosity. She was, he now noticed, a reaonably attractive girl, pretty even, in the pale red glow of moonlight. But a lack of fear could only mean one thing; either she was Izan, or she didn't know he was a vampire. And he knew she wasn't Izan.

But was it really necessary to reveal his true nature to her immediately? No, he decided. It would be nice to speak with a human who wasn't terrified, even if only for a little while. When he spoke, he moved his lips only minimally, though he was able to be quite clearly understood, a trick he picked up while he was learning Korean.

"An even stranger place for a young woman to be walking alone in the middle of the night," he said.

[Nessarose Allens]

There was a certain similarity between those who walked alone in places that they were not expected to. As if there was always something you could pick about a person. They were bound to have a certain trait that was common, you only had to look hard enough to find what it actually was. This was the feeling that she got from this man; like she had seen him before in a crowd. His face, his posture and his eyes all screamed familiarity and yet she knew that this man was completely and utterly unknown to her. So why did she know him? More importantly, how did she know him? There were so many questions that she wanted answered and all had arrived within thrity seconds of seeing this stranger. She sighed and continued walking, her pace slower than normal as if she wanted to take her time.

An idea began to form in her head, it may have seemed stupid and absurd to anyone else but to her it was commonplace. If she got his name she could find out why there was a feeling of familiarity. If you knew how you could find almost anything about almost anyone with a name and Nessa, well, she was one of the main people who knew how. It would be easy, the click of a mouse, the tap of some keys, internet and coding. Simple. Like breathing. With this thought came the unconsious gesture of her hand moving to her satchel and resting on it. Despite the weight upon her shoulder she needed to reassure herself that the laptop was still there. Despite the fact that she would fight tooth and nail to retain the laptop she needed to be aware of its presence. In her own opinion, carrying it around with her was a far safer option than having it in an easily-broken-into appartment.

You'd be lost if it was gone.

No, i would still have it all.

Not if someone was thorough.

Yeah, right.

It was pointless to argue, especially now that she had initiated a conversation. It would be rude to begin talking to someone and to simply drift out of the conversation after a moment. Sometimes it happened, on days when the voice was being particularly annoying. Usually, however, she could manage it and she could come across as sane and normal. It was clear things were getting bad when she started answering the voice out loud, this was something that tended to draw the eyes of the crowd. Very. Easily.

An even stranger place for a young woman to be walking alone in the middle of the night.

You're not alone.

Don't i fucking wish.

His lips did not seem to move as he spoke and she merely gave a rueful smile. "True," she offered no further explanation to his statement, although such a statement always beheld a hidden question. A shrug found its way to her shoulders and she glanced around. She thought she had heard a noise. A sound. Her eyebrows furrowed and she took a deep breath, listening to the silence. There it was again. A pained .. groan. She looked to the man. "Did you hear that?" Her voice was curious, though not alarmed as any other humans would be in this experience. It was nothing new, nothing she had not come across before. She looked in the direction of the noise, taking a small step towards it.

I wouldn't do that, if i were you.

You're not me. So shut it.

[Angel Malcon]

She'd paused, touching the messenger bag she had on her shoulder. The girl obviously had no experience hiding anything via body language; her attitudes were easy for him to see. But the easiness was offset by the fact that her messages were very strance. She didn't fear him, she didn't fear this place -- but she most certainly did fear for whatever was in her satchel.

She seemed to be arguing with herself for a moment, and then she said, very simply, "True."

The tiny muscles behind his ears suddenly tensed. Angel had always thought that that was the animal side of him, trying to prick its ears up -- vampires were, after all, born predators. Something was struggling very far off. Then they heard it; a small, pained groan. Angel blinked.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

And he had, probably much more clearly than the girl had. He knew it was a female voice -- but he also knew that it could very well be a wolf that was changing. If that was the case, he certainly didn't want to alarm Nessarose (panicking humans could be such a hassle), but he also didn't want her to go near it, being the delicate human she was. Rumor had it that wolves were extra cranky right after they'd changed.

"If you believe the rumors," he said quietly, "it could very well be a ghost."


[OOC: Eugh...I apologize for the suckiness of this post. In the immortal words of Sander Cohen, my muse is a fickle bitch with a very short attention span. ]

[kira]

Oh, s**t... Meadhbh knew they had heard her, their sparse exchange of words then silence attested to that. At least the headache had subsided a little, letting her think. She had to get home, but to do so, she would have to past whoever was not too far a distance away from her. This was a dilemma. Now that the wind had turned, their smells drifted toward her; a human and a vampire. The human, she could handle, but a vampire would be much more difficult to deter.

The were shoved herself up so she was leaning against a burnt stump, then fumbled through her pockets, trying to find something that would help her return home safely. There was a small pocket knife, but that was no good, tooth and claw were a more effective weapon. She feared changing though, being in such a fragile state, that might just be the thing to set off a seizure.

From an inside pocket of her jacket, she withdrew a small syringe. She stared at it for a moment, confused, then remembered that Morrison had given it to her. It was filled with morphine, it was just for emergencies, and now did seem like that perfect emergency. The drug would certainly take away the pain and some of the shakes, but she only hoped it wouldn't make her too dizzy to defend herself.

Trying not to think of any negative consequences of the pain killers, she pressed the short needle into the inside of her elbow and pushed the liquid into her bloodstream. The effect was almost immediate; her head cleared for a moment, but then started to buzz faintly, which was at least more bearable than the previous pain, her limbs stopped trembling so much, and her eyes started to go in and out of focus. "Hold on," she muttered to herself, trying to stay completely conscious. "just get home."

If only Morrison were there, she'd have an easier time for he was strong enough to protect both of them. Even as long as he had been training her to look after herself, she was still not great at that, so she depended on him most of the time. Now she was on her own, and as she dragged herself to her feet, she was determined to stand on her own and defend herself against the possible threat again.

Meadhbh began walking toward the scent of the strangers, feet dragging slightly, and flipped open her pocket knife. It might be ineffective, but she wasn't willing to risk transforming, so it would have to do.

[Nessarose Allens]

Yes.

Oh good, otherwise you'd be deaf.

Shut the fuck up.

Slowly she nodded to herself, her eyes still stared in the direction that the noise had come from, her brows were furrowed together and she took a small step in that direction. Now, there is no lying when it is said Nessarose is not a hero; she will not risk her neck to save somebody she does not know from something that could kill her. In fact, she's more likely to watch and then walk away. Heroism is not something inbuilt within this girl and so it was not this 'need' to save someone that made her step toward when the noises of pain were coming from. It was curiosity.

Curiosity killed the cat, or so it was said. Nessa was driven by her endless curiosity to know things and to know the truth about everything. So while normal, sane, people would probably turn around when they heard a strange noise she was one of the few who were compelled towards it. She was about to take another step when he spoke, his words making her halt completely and look back at him with suprise and scorn written clearly on her face.

If you believe the rumors, it could very well be a ghost.

Is he ...?

I think he is.

It was all she could do not to mimick the laughter of the voice in her head, although she did fail slightly and let a grin momentarily flash upon her lips before it was once again replaced by that black, yet almost sarcastic stare. "I don't believe the rumors and i know pain when i hear it." Words were abrupt and cutting, completely devoid of the humor that she had fleetingly expressed previous to this comment. Suddenly however her grin changed to a wry smirk and she glanced toward the sound and back toward him. "If you're afraid of horror stories, by all means, stay there." With these words she turned, slowly walking to where she had heard the noise. Advise was something that she rarely listened to, especially when it was given my strangers.

What she saw made a mocking grin fly upon her face. This was a girl she had seen before, although she could not recall where she'd actually been seen. The fact was though, she knew exactly who this girl stumbling toward them with a pocket knife was. Werewolf. She coughed out a small laugh, her eyes moving to the pocketknife. Even Nessa, a fucking human, came better prepared than that. This was almost not worth her time. She glanced toward the man she'd been speaking to. Oh yes, some ghost. Somehow, it seemed almost rude to kill on the ground where so many humans had been killed, to defecate this place with the blood of their slaughterers. No, she would not kill his were tonight, but she would make her go home. "A werewolf." Her voice was soft, not audible to human ears, she waited, still, as the woman stumbled ever closer.

Why is it always you?

"Cause i'm a fucking genius," she wasn't actually aware she had adressed the voice out loud, in fact she was concentating upon the approaching were. The girl wouldn't have seen her yet, couldn't have seen her yet. She still had time.

[kira]

Meadhbh had only moved a few meters before her legs started to feel like jello, so she stopped and leaned up agaisnt a tree. She couldn't see very well, but she could still hear well and smell. The vampire wasn't saying much, but the human was and she had a familiar voice, her scent was also one she knew too. If the were remembered right, this woman was good with knives and she had a few on her. She wished that she would leave her be, the wolf wasn't in a state to fight her off.

She more concerned with the vampire though, he smelled healthy and capable and there was nearly no doubt in her mind that he would try to harm her. "Please let me be," she mumbled, hoping that he would show her some mercy. If he did happen to attack, she would probably seize since the morphine wasn't taking over enough to cause her to pass out.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she pushed herself off of the tree, clutching the knife very tightly in between her fingers. "You're the wolf," she said under her breath, "you are strong. You're the wolf, you are strong." She continued to repeat this under her breath and it kept her feet it moving. It was just a stupid little mantra Morrison made her use when she was facing a difficult task, but it helped her to focus.

She was now nearing the man and woman and she lifted her head up, trying to make herself look more capable than she currently felt. She was just thankful that her hands were steady, not shaking to betray her weak feeling limbs. And although her vision was now swimming terribly, she could guide herself just as well with her ears and nose.

((Kinda craptastical, eh? ))

[Angel Malcon]

They were right when the said the girl was crazy; she obviously had some major issues. She grinned at him, then snapped back to being serious long enough to scold him, and then smiled again.

"If you're afraid of horror stories, by all means, stay there."

"I never said anything about being afraid," he said. She'd begun to look at him differently; she either suspected, or she already knew. He got to his feet; it was an easy, languid gesture.

Nessarose stepped in the direction of the girl. "A werewolf," she whispered, and then, out of nowhere, "'Cause I'm a fucking genius."

He barely wanted to acknowledge this, but he did touch her arm lightly to stop her from walking over there. It was absolutely weird for her to say that, yes, but then again, this girl had obviously jumped the looney bus to Crazy Town a long time ago, and had taken some crack with her for good measure. So he tried to ignore it.

The wolf was very clearly in sight now, and he could smell the wolf in her. But her groans of pain, her helpless whimpers, didn't sound like she was trying to change; she sounded like a dog who'd been kicked too hard.

As she came closer, he recognized her. She was the female wolf who'd been so eager to tear apart little Myra. But that night, she'd had her master with her -- and, from what he heard, that man kept her on a pretty tight leash (hehe, dog, leash).

The wolf leaned heavily against a tree. No, he decided, she wasn't trying to change. He'd seen wolves change before (it wasn't very pretty), but this girl was in distress of a different kind.

"Please let me be," she whimpered.

She pushed herself off the tree and started to make her way over. "You're the wolf, you are strong," she kept mumbling to herself, over and over.

Jesus, was she high?

Probably, he thought right after that.

"Listen now, little wolf," he said. "We'll be leaving you if you leave us. Run back to your master, now. If you stay around here, you'll only make things worse for yourself." He flashed her a dangerous grin, to show off his fangs. "Trust me."

Well, if little Nessarose didn't know about his true nature yet, that sure as hell did it.


[OOC: Simply comfort yourself in knowing that it was nowhere nearly as bad as this crap. Also, I sort of assumed that this is taking place after 'Silence'...mostly because Angel wouldn't have anything intelligent to say otherwise...]

[Nessarose Allens]

There was something 'not right' about the man and she could not help but look at him in a strange way, her head was slightly tilted to one side and her eyes were narrowed, it made for quite a strange expression yet it was one she held nevertheless. His movements were too easy and they were abrupt. But he was not a werewolf, she would have known what he was. Slowly she shook her head to try and dismiss the though, there were - as some liked to say - bigger fish to fry.

As he touched her arm to stop her from walking over there she acknowledged him with the barest of glances. He knew she was a werewolf. Which meant that he was obviously not everything she had assumed he was. There was something more here, she only had to seek it out. Although she saw the were's mouth moving, she did not hear the words that were muttered from it but she did see the were's face. When she did, a breath like 'oh' escaped her lips and her eyes narrowed easily, carelessly. That fucking wolf had been one of the ones trying to kill her, automatically her hand went to her pocket, although she did not draw the knife that it was clenched around.

Listen now, little wolf, We'll be leaving you if you leave us. Run back to your master, now. If you stay around here, you'll only make things worse for yourself. Trust me.

It was because she had been watching him when he spoke that she'd been looking at him, because he'd assumed she would not hurt the wolf. Fangs. Jesus, fangs. Her eyes widened briefly before they narrowed again and she took two - slightly stumbled - steps backwards to put more space inbetween her and him. A vampire. Why hadn't she seen it? "Oh jesus, oh no." This could get bad, this could get very bad. She didn't know how to kill werewolves, only vampires.

You've gone and done it this time.

"No."

[kira]

"Ah, fuck," Meadhbh recognized the vampire's voice now and she wasn't at all fond at facing him again. He would protect the human for sure, but from her previous encounter with this human, she was willing to bet that the woman would be after her. The only way she was going to make it past them safely was if they were moved to leave her alone by her absolutely pathetic state.

"Listen now, little wolf, We'll be leaving you if you leave us. Run back to your master, now. If you stay around here, you'll only make things worse for yourself. Trust me." She could here that savage grin in his voice, but it did little to intimidate her, she could barely see him, much less his fangs that was evidently trying to show off. The show had frightened this human though.

"Oh Jesus, oh no." A smile twitched on the wolf's lips. "No." Meadhbh was intensely glad for the woman's fear, she would try to run, she wouldn't attack. Even she should know that a sick wolf could still be very dangerous for a human to mess with.

The two were much closer now so she adjusted her course a little so that she could walk around them instead of right through them. She was beginning to doubt that either was going to let her get past completely unscathed. God, she felt so weak, that had been too much morphine for her handle and still keep a lucid mind.

Meadhbh growled as she continued to grow closer to the two, but her resolve was failing and her legs suddenly gave out, causing her to drop to her knees. "Goddamn," she sighed, sticking the knife in the ground and pressing her hand to her head. If she wasn't home when Morrison came around, he would come looking for her, and would eventually find her in the park. She just wasn't sure if she would be found dead or alive yet.