Post by Turpentine Kisses on Jan 4, 2007 0:50:10 GMT -5
Ohhh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckkk. She was in trouble. Big trouble. Slender legs carried her fast across the pavement, no sound save for the breaths she took audible. The breaths fast and short, releasing short puffs of fog into the cool, damp night’s air. SCREWED.
She was so entirely, one-hundred per cent, totally screwed. Alister was on her tail – quite literally – only a roof top above and a street across; in short, traveling via rooftop across the street keeping perfect pace with her. The tawny wolf ears stood perked atop her head, the long dark hair flowing out behind as the ears swiveled. He’s moved. Oh fuck, he’d moved.
She paused, the dull green eyes slowly shifting to the roof above her. Fucked. Her hand flew to the silver name tag hanging around at her collarbone with a metallic band fit snuggly around her slender neck; a collar. It read her name, “Thane” in fancy letters looking as if they’d been plucked from Shakespearean times. She hated the damn thing. The tracker, the bind, the little fucker that kept her captive; her cage.
A soft growl was emitted from her throat. He was too close, she was warning him to back the hell off. A soft laugh was her reply, carried by the wind. He was laughing at her, mocking her. He knew as well as she did that she didn’t stand a chance. But she wasn’t about to let him know that. Her fingers curled as if unsheathing the razor-sharp fingernails as claws. Her pupils dilated to slits, focusing in on the offender… Though, she was quite plainly fucked.
No matter, she’d try anyway. He dropped, his tall frame towering over her own. The gray tail fell between her legs, beneath the short, tattered skirt that she’d been living in for days, now. Her bare feet, all bruised and caked in dirt and mud, were twitching as if just waiting for the command from the head to hightail it outta there. Which her head was willing to give were it not for her pride… And the fact that this guy could outrun her, anyway.
“Thane… I’m upset to see that you still fear me after all this time.” His voice was smooth, calming… seductive. But she wouldn’t fall for it. It took her a moment for her head to register that the new cold feeling on her cheek was his hand. She tensed and slapped it away.
“Stay the fuck away from me… I’m not yours, anymore,” she snarled, taking a step back on those torn up feet.
He laughed again; a beautiful melodic laugh. “Ahh. But you are my little mutant.”
She winced at the word. She was no mutant… Or wouldn’t be were it not for this sick freak.
“A piece of silver claiming that I belong to you is not enough,” she informed. Another step backwards.
He seemed to notice for she was jerked forward again, head first and the rest of her body following suit. “No running, my little puppy.”
She looked up, glowering at him. This was bad. Badbadbad. She was in no position to be fighting. Her flesh was covered in cuts, blood, bruises. You know, the works. Some fresh, some old. In any case, the small symbol at the small of her back – resembling the ink of a tattoo – remained unscathed. Imagine that…
Her knees bent, eyes never leaving his face. He was all quite amused by the whole ordeal; she was going to try and launch an attack. Amusing, indeed.
She sprung off her legs, traveling the several meters or so from her previous post to him. Her arms were outstretched in front of her, hands out and the only weapon she possessed – the fingernails – poised for his neck or chest… Whatever they’d hit, she’d be happy.
And hit they did. He didn’t even move. No attempted dodge – didn’t even bat an eye. She worried for this, the claws plunged in the flesh. She was stuck unless she cared to do a bit of pulling. Ohh joy. She growled, yanking on her arms which remained where they were. Mm. Fun.
He grinned, wiping from his neck the trickle of blood she’s created. “I’m impressed with your boldness… But you receive no points for it.” And he grabbed her wrists, pulled the hands out and tossed her against the wall as if she were nothing. She landed, with a painful smack. Her head snapped back, hitting the brick before falling forward to meet the damp cement. Her vision turned red for a moment. But she had more stamina than you’d think for the pathetic, meek little girl.
He laughed as she rose to her feet. “So glad to know my creation isn’t as weak as I thought. Always a relief.” However, with a mere flick of the wrist, she was slammed to the ground as if a leash were on her collar. And invisible leash controlled only by the hands of her creator. So, laying flat on the ground, her eyes studying the diamonds woven into the dark fabric of the firmament, she listened to his words, “You have three days to bring it back. Otherwise, I will punish you. Only discipline will train the old dog. Deal?”
She frowned, panting for breath. When no answer came from her, she coughed. The air… He was making the goddamn air fucking suffocate her. She turned her head, trying to redirect the coughed up blood, but found it almost impossible to move. So, left with no other choice, she nodded. “Y-yeah… Deal.” And just like that, she could breath again.
“This is for running away,” he added, bending down. She noticed a black-hilted blade in his hand and watched as the tip was taken to her cheekbone and sliced down, opening the skin. “Three days, puppy.”
He left, she stayed, not really being able to move. The weight was gone, but her limbs wouldn't listen; there was no energy left. She closed her eyes. Well... This wouldn't be a horrible place to sleep... She would have ended up on the streets for the night, anyway.
She was so entirely, one-hundred per cent, totally screwed. Alister was on her tail – quite literally – only a roof top above and a street across; in short, traveling via rooftop across the street keeping perfect pace with her. The tawny wolf ears stood perked atop her head, the long dark hair flowing out behind as the ears swiveled. He’s moved. Oh fuck, he’d moved.
She paused, the dull green eyes slowly shifting to the roof above her. Fucked. Her hand flew to the silver name tag hanging around at her collarbone with a metallic band fit snuggly around her slender neck; a collar. It read her name, “Thane” in fancy letters looking as if they’d been plucked from Shakespearean times. She hated the damn thing. The tracker, the bind, the little fucker that kept her captive; her cage.
A soft growl was emitted from her throat. He was too close, she was warning him to back the hell off. A soft laugh was her reply, carried by the wind. He was laughing at her, mocking her. He knew as well as she did that she didn’t stand a chance. But she wasn’t about to let him know that. Her fingers curled as if unsheathing the razor-sharp fingernails as claws. Her pupils dilated to slits, focusing in on the offender… Though, she was quite plainly fucked.
No matter, she’d try anyway. He dropped, his tall frame towering over her own. The gray tail fell between her legs, beneath the short, tattered skirt that she’d been living in for days, now. Her bare feet, all bruised and caked in dirt and mud, were twitching as if just waiting for the command from the head to hightail it outta there. Which her head was willing to give were it not for her pride… And the fact that this guy could outrun her, anyway.
“Thane… I’m upset to see that you still fear me after all this time.” His voice was smooth, calming… seductive. But she wouldn’t fall for it. It took her a moment for her head to register that the new cold feeling on her cheek was his hand. She tensed and slapped it away.
“Stay the fuck away from me… I’m not yours, anymore,” she snarled, taking a step back on those torn up feet.
He laughed again; a beautiful melodic laugh. “Ahh. But you are my little mutant.”
She winced at the word. She was no mutant… Or wouldn’t be were it not for this sick freak.
“A piece of silver claiming that I belong to you is not enough,” she informed. Another step backwards.
He seemed to notice for she was jerked forward again, head first and the rest of her body following suit. “No running, my little puppy.”
She looked up, glowering at him. This was bad. Badbadbad. She was in no position to be fighting. Her flesh was covered in cuts, blood, bruises. You know, the works. Some fresh, some old. In any case, the small symbol at the small of her back – resembling the ink of a tattoo – remained unscathed. Imagine that…
Her knees bent, eyes never leaving his face. He was all quite amused by the whole ordeal; she was going to try and launch an attack. Amusing, indeed.
She sprung off her legs, traveling the several meters or so from her previous post to him. Her arms were outstretched in front of her, hands out and the only weapon she possessed – the fingernails – poised for his neck or chest… Whatever they’d hit, she’d be happy.
And hit they did. He didn’t even move. No attempted dodge – didn’t even bat an eye. She worried for this, the claws plunged in the flesh. She was stuck unless she cared to do a bit of pulling. Ohh joy. She growled, yanking on her arms which remained where they were. Mm. Fun.
He grinned, wiping from his neck the trickle of blood she’s created. “I’m impressed with your boldness… But you receive no points for it.” And he grabbed her wrists, pulled the hands out and tossed her against the wall as if she were nothing. She landed, with a painful smack. Her head snapped back, hitting the brick before falling forward to meet the damp cement. Her vision turned red for a moment. But she had more stamina than you’d think for the pathetic, meek little girl.
He laughed as she rose to her feet. “So glad to know my creation isn’t as weak as I thought. Always a relief.” However, with a mere flick of the wrist, she was slammed to the ground as if a leash were on her collar. And invisible leash controlled only by the hands of her creator. So, laying flat on the ground, her eyes studying the diamonds woven into the dark fabric of the firmament, she listened to his words, “You have three days to bring it back. Otherwise, I will punish you. Only discipline will train the old dog. Deal?”
She frowned, panting for breath. When no answer came from her, she coughed. The air… He was making the goddamn air fucking suffocate her. She turned her head, trying to redirect the coughed up blood, but found it almost impossible to move. So, left with no other choice, she nodded. “Y-yeah… Deal.” And just like that, she could breath again.
“This is for running away,” he added, bending down. She noticed a black-hilted blade in his hand and watched as the tip was taken to her cheekbone and sliced down, opening the skin. “Three days, puppy.”
He left, she stayed, not really being able to move. The weight was gone, but her limbs wouldn't listen; there was no energy left. She closed her eyes. Well... This wouldn't be a horrible place to sleep... She would have ended up on the streets for the night, anyway.
