young crazed feeling [simon]

[ariel danger quebodeaux]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/28i3m0k.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] && my pulse is flat-lined. She could hear them, hear them doing it. All around her, gasping. Up on the roof, panting. Gulping, Danger pressed her elbows more tightly against her ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound of it. Even curled into a ball, legs tucked against her chest and forehead buried against her knees, on the sawdust covered floor of an abandoned factory that used to make furniture or something wooden, they managed to hunt her down. They were all torturing her, convulsing and choking on spasms, and she whimpered quietly, in agony. They bucked against bones, each with its own sort of rhythm. Steady one-two-threes and rapid onetwoonetwos crowded against her eardrums, pulsing and throbbing, encouraging her to listen, listen, listen to their filthy blunders. There was the couple out in the alleyway, stuttering and shaking- faster, faster, harder- so loudly that the redhead could hear them through the thick, solid barrier provided by the grubby concrete walls. Beating quick and strong against their marrowy prisons and fleshy tombs, all the fucking hearts of all the fucking creatures passing by within a quarter mile radius of the fledgling called to her. But the people, oh, the people; the scent of their blood, urged through their veins by all those mastermind hearts, carried on the wind, through the walls, as if it wasn’t bad enough that she had to listen to all of those thumping organs hard at work. They were so loud, so persistent, so irresistible and impossible to ignore that she overlooked her own psychotic mumbling: “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, oh please G-”

[/b] Only when her throat buckled around the word, choking on it like someone had tried to shove a fork down her windpipe, did she realize.

Choking back a sob- there is no time for crying, darlink, her grandmother would say if she were here- the redhead squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut, trying to forget, to ignore, to remain oblivious of the events of the past twenty-four hours. But there was no ignoring what had happened, no obliviousness to wrap around herself in denial. She remembered every detail in vivid clarity, from arguing over what to wear for the party that some college guys had invited her and Erin to, to the actual party- which had been rather lame, just a bunch of NYU students dancing to crappy rap music and drinking cheap beer, until someone had showed up with Jäger and dope and everyone had gotten shitfaced. Partway through the night she’d ended up dancing with a girl, a brunette with wavy hair and brown eyes, and they’d gotten… intimate. They started with kisses, which quickly escalated to the point of needing a room. It had been Danger’s first time having sex with another girl, and in the afterglow, with soft hands pressing against the hollow just under her ribcage, the girl had bitten her. Okay, she lied when she claimed to remember everything; it got a little fuzzy here, but she distinctly remembered teeth at her neck, and her head going all light and airy, and then something sticky and salty dripping into her mouth as she moaned softly against the pain in her throat. Next thing she remembered was suddenly breaking free into the cool night air, with the distant realization that she wasn’t naked anymore and that she was so thirsty. Her memory vaguely recalled Erin’s voice, screaming hysterically at someone, demanding to know “what did you do to her!?” The breeze off the Hudson carried Erin’s scent over to her, sweat and honey and chemical perfume, and the redhead snapped. Some inner instinct that she hadn’t known existed urged to her to her feet, propelled her across the ground until she had Erin pinned- squirming and crying beneath her.

The rest was too gruesome for her to care to relive, too hungry and primal and wrong; her stomach twisted at the thought of it, churning Erin’s blood around like the poisonous nectar that it was. She’d turned Erin, Erin! Drank her blood like it was water, spilled her own into the other girl’s mouth like her instincts had directed, buried her. Her best friend, forever and ever. Ha, they’d never thought of the possibility of an eternal life when they’d muttered that all those ages ago.

Something in the warehouse moved, and Danger looked up suddenly. This couldn’t be; she’d have heard the traitorous heartbeat from a mile away. But there was something else here. Someone else; she could smell him, the soft scent of manly soap lingering on his skin. His shoes made a mild scraping sound as he ground sawdust into the floor. Her muscles stretched taut, ready to pounce, attack, maybe flee, the fledgling slowly pushed herself to her feet, blinking against the sudden burst of moonlight glimmering through a busted skylight as the clouds shifted. After adjusting, her gaze swept around the insides of the factory until she spotted him, her eyes narrowing into slits upon sighting. He smelled vaguely similar to the girl from the night before, only not as sweet, and didn’t have a heartbeat; clearly, nature wanted to keep dumping vampires in her lap. Scowling, the fledgling hovered uneasily where she was, her back mere centimeters from the chilly concrete blocks, eyeing the other vampire warily. Last time she’d let her guard down around a vampire, she’d wound up used, sticky with the scent of sex and dirt, dead for all intents and purposes, burying her best friend in some random cemetery. Danger refused to make the mistake of trusting anyone so soon.

-----

tagged; hoe
words; nine three nine
outfit; retro glamour
notes; yeah, she’s going to make that mistake again eventually. with simon.
[/div]

there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0

[/center][/div][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[simon wren lewis]

throw off the pain, well you can ignore it, but only for so long

’you will be a restless wanderer on the earth’ the words simply repeated themselves inside his head over and over as though he’d been there when they were spoken to Cain in the fields. He was Cain now…he had nowhere to go, and no comfort to cling too, he was a restless wanderer of the earth. Okay…well maybe that was a tad bit dramatic, but he was restlessly wandering…and New York was a part of the earth. He couldn’t sleep so he was wandering the streets, in todays world, it might as well have been the same thing as restlessly wandering the earth. He sighed softly, not even wanting to know what it would be like to live like this for the rest of his life, not that he had much option. The rest of eternity spent in this dank and dirty place, though he assumed he could leave New York eventually. That was his plan for the long run. He could go any number of new places and start over. He didn’t like to think about it, but eventually everyone he knew would fade, they would pass and he would stay here, alone forever, even others of his kind could die, and he didn’t even have that luxury of being able to end it if he so desired. Of course….once they were gone there wouldn’t be anything to stop him from moving on, going somewhere else. He could easily transfer into a high school somewhere and matriculate again, he did still look sixteen, even at age forty-one, as he would forever, even at fifty, one hundred, two hundred….it was almost sickening to think about. He’d never even imagined that he’d end up living to be a hundred years old, not with the way he ate or worked out…but now it wasn’t just a possibility…it was inevitable.

He didn’t know if he could handle being a high school student indefinitely…not that he’d hated it the first time around, but seriously it had to get old, even if they kept changing things like which planets counted as planets and which ones didn’t….that was a lot to learn over and over again. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to actually do something with his life, at least, not anything that wasn’t related to the downworld, not that they wanted him. The rest of the vampires in New York tended to steer clear, because he was the daywalker that couldn’t be killed. In part he minded, but again it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t as though he had connections to any of them anyway, besides Raphael, but at this point, who didn’t have connections with that creepy guy, right? He was a lot more in tune with the clave, or…the Nephilim of NYC at least. He wasn’t exactly at the top of the clave’s list for the vampire on their beloved counsel, but they didn’t mind him hanging around for a bit, but the thing about Nephilim, as indestructible as they seemed, they were quite fragile and most of them died young, so it was strange enough as it was that he was friends with Nephilim his own age. Of course, there was Alec, who would stay the same just as Simon did, but the two had never really had much of a connection ever, besides both being ‘Uncle’ to the same sets of children. No, he’d lose basically everyone eventually, and then he’d move on, out of this place that he’d once thought magical. He wouldn’t regret leaving this city one bit. He’d seen the tragic side of it…actually, he wasn’t seeing such a lovely side of it now. To anyone else, it would be quite and creepy around her, outside an abandoned factory, but Simon heard many more sounds. The car horns in the distance, the rats moving around within the walls, the heartbeat of the homeless man in the dumpster nearby, and most interestingly, the joyous sounds of coitus rising from a couple down the alley to his left. Something though, struck him as out of place. A voice, coming from inside the building…but no heartbeat to go along with it. He focused for a moment and new immediately what he’d stumbled upon as the female’s voice choked on the word G-…on the name of that deity that he still couldn’t force past his lips.

It could only be a fledgling…she would have been found by now if she was any older than a day or two, the coven around here was usually good about that. Though he couldn’t help but feel the need to find her, talk to her…and explain anything that she needed explained. So he entered the building, following the shallow and unnecessary breathing of a girl that was obviously not handling this well…but of course…who would? Simon hadn’t handled it well himself….twenty five years ago when he was turned. He inhaled quietly, following the smell of alcohol, which made perfect sense. She’d gotten drunk and let her guard down, and been turned, it happened all the time. Usually being turned wasn’t as drawn out and dramatic as it had been for Simon. As he got closer he could smell more of her, past the alcohol there was the soft odor of intimacy and the rough one of dirt. She looked wary and terrified as he approached. From what he could tell…she was red headed, and would be quite pretty had she not just dug herself out of her own grave…He held his hands up in a surrender. ”I’m Simon, I won’t hurt you.”

[/color] he said softly, daring to move only a little bit closer. ”Are you alright?” he asked, squinting slightly despite the fact that he could see her perfectly even in the dim light.
[/div]

Tagged: Danger; Words: 960; Notes: this. this is long for me XD

[/center]

[ariel danger quebodeaux]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/28i3m0k.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] && my pulse is flat-lined. The vampire- Simon, he introduced himself as- ventured fractionally closer before halting. Her instincts told her that for every step he took forward, she should take one back. Even if he held his hands up in the universal symbol for surrender, for “calm down, don’t do anything rash, I’m on your side.” Her body did not want to be close to another vampire right now; it didn’t even want to be close to itself, not with all the blood and the dirt, frustration and betrayal. She felt his eyes on her; felt him noting the dirt that blackened her skin and the musky scents of sex and alcohol. Self consciously, the redhead folded her arms over her chest, averting her gaze down to her own feet. But she was careful. She knew better than to let her guard down this time. She made sure she could still see him- his feet, at least- in the edge of her vision; she focused more on her ears to guarantee that if he moved, she’d hear the sound long before he actually got close to her. “I won’t hurt you,” he uttered, his voice as soft and smooth as silk. Danger wanted to believe him, wanted to let herself trust him, even just a little. After all, she didn’t really have anyone else to turn to right now. He was all that she’d got, which automatically made him her best shot of figuring out how to deal with this. But she didn’t want to deal with this, and besides, her grandmother had taught her from a young age never to believe attractive males with soft voices without previous knowledge of the inner workings of their mind. Here before her stood an attractive male- she’d casually noted his dark, messy hair and handsome face, with Caribbean blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. He was speaking to her in a soft voice, hinting that he simply wanted to help her. Danger had no idea how his mind worked, and therefore couldn’t bring herself to feel relieved that someone had come to her aid at this dark hour. For all she knew, he’d caught her scent and decided to go all Angel on her, one vampire ridding the world of others. She may not like what she’d become, but her sense of self-preservation still insisted that she keep herself safe. He spoke again, and the redhead cocked her head slightly to the side. Absently she noted the tickle of wayward locks against the back of her neck, strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. Was she alright? If she were feeling like herself, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of his question. Too bad she wasn’t in much of a laughing mood. With her eyes slitted into little strips of blue framed by dark lashes, Danger brought her gaze level to the male’s- Simon, her mind reminded her. She simply watched him, studying the way he held stood there. Close enough to make her uncomfortable, though she doubted that was his intention, yet far enough away that she couldn’t view him as an immediate threat to her safety. She realized, possibly a little late, that her hand had worked its way up toward her mouth, and that she was absentmindedly biting the skin of her thumb between her front teeth. Her nervous habit, her tell that ruined her poker face. Sighing, the vampire let her gaze wander over to rest on some of the rusty factory equipment, left behind when the building was vacated. “What do you think?”

[/b] she asked, somehow just managing to keep her voice from trembling. She’d been used, taken advantage of by her teenage hormones and willingness to try something new; then her body had turned against her in its lust for blood, and the nearest person with a beating heart and rosy cheeks had been her best friend since the second grade. She most certainly was not alright, thank you very much.

-----

tagged; hoe
words; six six five
outfit; retro glamour
notes; take advantage of the fact that she's not paying attention. she miight bite him, but at least it will get him closer to her.
[/div]

there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0

[/center][/div][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[simon wren lewis]

throw off the pain, well you can ignore it, but only for so long

He wasn’t surprised not to be received well. He’d never met a welcoming fledgling, they were all either exhausted, terrified or so freakishly defensive that he almost didn’t want to try to get close to them to help. But he knew what it felt like, he wasn’t exactly new at this, but there were certainly vampires much older than he, and they didn’t seem to remember as well what it was like to be newly turned, how terrifying it was, how betrayed you felt by your body, your faith, even your friends at times. He felt her eyes scrutinizing him back just as he did to her and was suddenly thankful for the way he wore his hair, down over his forehead to cover the mark of cain, it could look a little threatening, even if people didn’t know what it was. The mark was one of those things that you look at and you just know it isn’t a good thing. Even a mundane could see it and know that it was much more than a tattoo. It was like the feeling a nephilim got when they came across dark runes, ones they’d never seen, but ones that they knew meant trouble for them. That was the way people saw the black mark on Simon’s forehead, and he wasn’t quite ready to explain that yet. He didn’t even know this fledgling’s name.

The girl was still tense, despite his attempt at calming her, but he wasn’t really surprised. She’d probably been feisty as a mundane, which would be good if she ever really needed to hold her own in the downworld…but right now he just wanted her to relax and talk to him. Even if it was fuzzy and she couldn’t remember much, a few details may be a big help finding out how she’d come across vampires, whether she’d hurt anyone else yet and well…it would be nice to know if she realized what she was now, or if he was going to have to spell it out for her. That was never fun, he’d only had to do it once, but telling a newly turned vampire that they were a blood drinking shadow dweller…it didn’t usually go over well. No one wanted to hear that about themselves. Especially from the one individual of their whole species that wasn’t bound by all of those rules, he’d do what he could to keep the daylighter thing a secret as long as possible.

He watched her raise her hand to her mouth biting the pad of her thumb and he knew that she wasn’t as tough as she seemed. Sure, he still didn’t want to cross her, and he definitely didn’t want to give her cause to lash out, but she was scared, or nervous at the very least, and that was why he wanted to help her, because it sucked to feel that way, and having a vampire on your side for this kind of thing….well he imagined it would be a lot better than having the lightwoods and no one else for help after getting turned. So he was at least going to put himself out there, pointing out that he knew at least a little bit of what she was going through and that she could trust him, but someone in her position would be crazy to trust him right away, so it might take some smooth talking on his part.

He lowered his hands to his sides, careful to keep them in view and took an unthreatening step forward. ”I think…that you’re confused, you’re scared, tired….probably hungry and a little bit angry about it…and the fact that you can feel, hear and see everything is far too much for you to handle right now. A sensory overload.”

[/color] he answered honestly, blue eyes wide and clear. He was just describing the way that he’d felt just after digging out of his own grave twenty years ago. He couldn’t help but be sure she felt the same way.
[/div]

Tagged: Danger; Words: 670; Notes: a bit more my typical length. sorry it took so long!

[/center]

[ariel danger quebodeaux]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/28i3m0k.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] && my pulse is flat-lined. “Mhmm,” she mumbled absently. A sensory overload. Huh. That was a good, if not understated, way to describe these new and confusing sounds and smells twining around the redhead, attempting to tug her attention away from the immediate threat standing before her. Though her mind didn’t scream warning warning, red alert, back away, beware! at the sight of Simon- sheepish, twiggy, boy next door Simon- Danger couldn’t dismiss him as something not to worry about. She’d learned her lesson last night, or maybe earlier this morning, the time had started blurring during the long stretch of sunlight. And the couple out in the alley were doing a particularly fine job of distracting her from thinking straight, with their earsplitting gasps and pants, fuzzy moans and hammering heartbeats toying with her concentration. She found herself glancing over Simon’s shoulder, in the general direction the noise was coming from, her throat bone dry and her stomach twisting hungrily. For fuck’s sake, did they have to smell so good? The heavy, musky scent of sweat coated the sharp, zesty tang of blood; the girl’s smelled a bit like peppermint, the boy’s like fresh basil. She swallowed, forcing saliva down her scratchy throat, jerking her gaze back to Simon, who’d taken a careful step forward. The girl frowned slightly, trying to place where exactly she’d seen behavior like that before. Keeping his hands in plain sight and making no sudden movements- he was treating her a bit like a wild, rabid animal, she realized. She had enough common sense to let her offended ego simper quietly in the back of her mind, trying to focus on the brunette and not the copulating teenagers- they sounded like teenagers, anyways- outside. Trying to piece together the rest of what he’d said that had slipped in one ear and then scattered to distant corners of her brain. Something about her being confused, tired, too much to handle. She blinked, selfishly, stupidly hoping he couldn’t see the hunger in her eyes or the underlying hatred in herself for having this unquenchable thirst. After a second of scrutinizing the male and weighing her options in her head, Danger let her arms drop to her side and carefully closed a large chunk of the gap between them. Her movements felt too predatorial, too threatening and slinky. Like her body was bait. Like she was trying to lure him in. Ha! And she’d just considered him, with his slow, fluid movements and relaxed stance, a threat? Her lips twitched into a smirk, amused by her own private joke, as she looked up at the older vampire- she could only assume that his age trumped hers, or else he’d be as distracted by the gooey sound of the hearts contracting and retracting five hundred feet behind him. She was close enough now that in order to actually see his face she had to tilt her head back slightly, considering he towered a good six, maybe eight inches taller than her. “If you wanna help me, Simon,”

[/b] she spoke slowly, caressing his name with her tongue the way she’d learned boys liked- it seemed to remind them of other things that her tongue could caress, apparently. Namely a thing located below the belt. “You could skip the whole hero spiel and distract me. As ridiculously tempting as it is, I really don’t wanna drain anyone tonight.”[/b] And it was indeed ridiculously tempting; her whole body urged her to duck around him, this obstacle in her way, just slip around him and waltz outside. She wanted to toy with them, now that her initial bloodlust had been dulled, satisfied into a quiet aching throb in the pit of her stomach.

Danger looked up at the brunette, hoping that she looked scared and tired and confused, all those things he’d said when he guessed at how she felt. She didn’t like the idea of looking animalistic, starved; it made her think of the addicts littered around club alleyways, needy without their latest fix.

tagged; hoe words; six six eight outfit; retro glamour notes; did i ever mention she's almost as slutty as bron? except danger is more minx-y.
[/div]

there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0

[/center][/div][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]