Removals? My Specialty

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry for the long wait, I've been working on it ^^. Anyway, here we go now!</td></tr></table>

Another cold start to another cold, and hungry, day. He'd watched the trio of silver spheres fall and the rise of a washed out sun, the rays of which stretching out lazily over the blanket of foliage that had tucked the residents far below in warmly for the time passed. However, with his eyes he didn't watch. It had taken work, but Ivumo had started manipulating his Vampiric state to feedback on the time of day or night. The Poltergeist had been entrapped, or so it felt, through no other's fault but his own, within the lower levels of the Janardan Academy - his goal from early on to be to integrate himself into society and undo his past... by burying it.

His Dormitory was barely big enough to accommodate him, but he wasn't there to snuggle down and love the place. Not at first anyway. Even before his crimson discs saw the low amber glow of the inset lights, Ivumo stretched out his arms towards the ceiling; his talons extended at full stretch and scraped the plaster above. The one thing he'd grown to worry about was frightening anyone above him with the sharp, high pitched grinding he made every morning, and the fact it would be right below their feet. Ivumo pressed his large, scarlet head against the wall behind him and stretched out each muscle from his neck down, pushing himself closer to the edge of his custom built bed. Why on earth they put that thing in there, he couldn't figure out. Ivumo actually had to ask what it was. In any case, a comfortable life style would help his integration. Crimson eyes finally opened, somewhat blurry, cross eyed on the dark patch of blood on his muzzle; a low, guttural growl crept from his lungs through gritted teeth and fangs.

He pushed himself off the bed, walking slowly towards where they had set up a small, chilled stream. They couldn't give him normal amenities because he'd pull the taps off, or crush the toilet, or rip the shower curtain, or even get his foot stuck in the small bath tubs. It could have become a new sport, as long as there was another for his other foot. In any case, it was impractical. In place, a stream directly channelled through from one of the many on the surface. Dipping Ivumo's giant paws into the water, it was splashed against his face, instantly stealing him from his sombre state.

Whatever time it was, it was drawing on to midday. The hustle and bustle from the corridors above had quietened down. Ivumo made his way out through the relatively narrow, but considerably well lit, corridors and up on to the "normal" levels. Some students were beetling about, gathering up their papers and locking their doors. A couple decided they'd play tonsil hockey in the middle of the hallway. As Ivumo strode down the hall, a few ducked under his large arms to travel in the opposite direction. The two, tiny, orange males occupying the necessary space appeared not to see the Poltergeist coming. His massive frame stopped feet from them, brushing his long tail across the floor as in indicator of his presence. However, they refused to move from his path. Licking the inside of his teeth, a fraction of a snarl crawled over his features.

<span style='color:red'>Uh, move... please.</span>

Just like he had learnt to speak Ramathian, mostly, from listening, he had adopted this "please" gesture from listening to the females requesting the repositioning of troublesome males. It was an odd one, to him, to request 'dragons to move. Nonetheless, he watched it work, so it was worth giving it a try.

The 'dragons refused to move. A long sigh left Ivumo's nostrils as he bent down next to the perverted 'dragon's ear to repeat his request.

<span style='color:red'>Move, before you find yourself wrapping your tongue around his spine from the inside.</span>

The other participant made a double take at Ivumo before all the stubbly hairs on his thin, bony back stood on end; his eyes widened as he parted from his gay lover and cowered across the wall, like someone had thrown orange gelatine at it, stretching his arms out over the surface. It was then when the one warned turned and froze, connecting with the blood red discs, swirling slowly, gazing directly into the very being of this feeble creature. Cautiously, the pendragon stepped to one side and huddled down against the floor, allowing clear passage for the giant to pass, who, in passing, gave the jelly 'dragon a momentary glance.

Like diving into a pool of liquid gold, the sun washed over his frame, making him appear almost black. A little distance from the entrance, his eyes observed the calm swaying of bushes and trees in his direction; when it hit him, his nostrils flared sharply... that smell. Ivumo's ears stood tall as his eyes surveyed the area, scanning deeply into everything surrounding him. If there was blood in the air, then someone had been clumsy enough to leave it around, or was looking for someone to find it. Only the Vampires and Weres could smell blood at comparable levels. His right arm's temperature rose to a numbing heat; the Poltergeist took a step away from the direction, turning, instead, to look over the sector more carefully. Although he could not pick out the clandestine assassin, there felt to him something peculiar about a set of trees. He looked them over; maybe the blood was behind them? Potentially fatal wings - for those posing a threat - unlatched from the centre of his back, yet remained firmly behind him, as he approached the trees, crushing loose stones from the pathway into powder.

 

The sun glinted off the fur quite distinctly, causing his eyes to lock on like a laser targeting system; the pounding of grass beneath taloned paws sounded with the rhythmic hammering of his heart, revving up for another hunt. The 'dragon Ivumo was watching so intently ran briskly across the hill up to another tree, clambering into it. If he thought he was invisible to Ivumo's trained eyes, he had another thing coming. More of the washed out sun reflected off the whites as they sank into their tail, drawing his attention all the more.

Ducking low to the ground, Ivumo kicked himself off on an intercept course. The giant's large, muscled arms drew back against his body; the paws flexed their talons sharply, almost flicking them out like an army knife from its hilt - their bloody black staining glimmering a dull, empty shade. The haunting blackness on his hind legs appeared to start dripping off his fur like tar with his new speed; his lips peeled back, revealing the 'tools of his trade', gritting them tightly, ready to snap them open and back closed across this one's neck. The long, rough tail whipped behind him violently - inky black flame crackled through the air like a box of fireworks set off next to your ear. Ivumo tilted his head to one side, avoiding the protruding branch by which the pendragon in his sights had been hiding.

That scent of blood grew stronger, calling him on further. He knew this was a trap, but it would backfire, and Ivumo would have his snack as The Vampiric Poltergeist once again. Thrusting his arms forward, those claws were primed and aimed to take the head clean off as yards became mere feet from the prey.

 

"Nature" was meant to be for Ivumo to simply seek out and satiate his mortally contaminated behavioural disorder, however it was more congenial to facilitate this yearning by first being coerced, then to execute a visually unpleasant hewing, cleaving the viscera from the Pendragon and then to verify the disembodiment of their intestines by dangling them before their fading eyes, before forcefully prying open their maw and ramming said guts down their throat - keenly observing as they were refused precipitate death. The only thing that kept them alive would be the only thing to kill them. Suffering.

When it came down to feeling skin split and pop beneath his claws, speed meant nothing. It was almost erotic; a tingling ran through his arms and up his spine, making him tense in pleasure, craning his neck forward with a heated desire to keep it heated. His self-made clothes - being a fairly tight black t-shirt and, again, moderately tight set of jeans, given to him as a gift from one of the teachers teaching hand crafts - clung to his fur in the gentle breeze; the whites of Hirjep's eyes vanished a moment before Ivumo's claws scratched the surface away beneath the white pelt. Behind the elusive, taunting Pendragon was the rest of the tree; Ivumo's claws tore clean off the top of the tree, shredding the stomach section of his shirt against the jagged bark. An inch closer, and it would not be he who would be holding intestines, but the clean-up crew. Accompanying the impact of his talons with the tree, a sharp tone erupted into the air,

""Well well, this might be fun, if I can pull it off, they better pay me well"

Upon finishing his words, Ivumo had curled his wings around beside him and allowed his giant frame to halt in mid air, gliding back down to set back on the soft grass. He turned his entire body around, pivoting on the ball of his right paw to see what it was, exactly, that had essentially just threatened him. Ivumo straightened himself up. His muscles still tense, some stitching on the shoulders fell away. Speaking with a somewhat relaxed, low resonance in his voice, Ivumo tilted his head down and to the side.

<span style='color:red'>The only thing to be pulled off here will be your head.</span>

His large hands rose, displaying the backs to Hirjep. The body of the tree remained impaled on his claws, until he flicked them off sharply. Splinters flew into the air, falling like chaff. Blood red oculars, flashing against the light with the fractional incline of Ivumo's skull, noticed Hirjep's teeth again. The arden, as Ivumo had finished speaking, padded closer a couple of steps, before launching into an attack.

<span style='color:red'>Finally!</span>

He celebrated to himself; The Poltergeist stood firm on his ground, tracking the movement flawlessly. It was Hirjep's mistake to think because he was fast that that meant he could out-manoeuvre Ivumo; he was in his sights now, and once prey was locked on, it virtually never left his gaze. He hadn't, however, noticed the blades on either side of Hirjep's legs until the would-be assassin was very close indeed. When he did, his tall ears shot forward, alert to the danger posed, signalling an immediate response. Ivumo leant forward, striding out with his left leg directly towards Hirjep and threw forward an open hand - palm first - into the bridge of his muzzle, curling his claws down against his forehead, impetuously going for the kill already.