<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>-T i m e s t a m p- Quarter: Dyo Day: 20th Year: 81378 [4] Characters Involved [And Posting Order]: ·Odi– playing Odium ‘Odi’ Jazz; ·Zeva– playing Nassor Runihura Akhenshu; ·CobaltThorn- playing Rhiannon Juemvull. Extra Thread Info: Plot: Lovers Odi & Nassor are out on their first vampiric hunt together. Where: The dark alleys of Bhim’s Black Market. Time: [See Timestamp] Late night. Nice and dark! XD; Rated: PG15? There are likely to be scenes of violence involved. And, knowing the lovers – probably the slightest sexual content. XD -I M P O R T A N T- This is a private thread, for Zeva, Cobalt Thorn, and myself. So, feel free to read, but no posting, please! XD</td></tr></table> <span style='color:gray'>The soundless padding of quadrapedal paws echoes silently in the darkness, bouncing and rebounding off of greasy, black-bricked walls, making up the deadly alleyways of Bhim’s Black Market. Two sleek creatures move noiselessly in the grimy darkness, unvoiced, and unspoken. Moving at a reasonable tempo, a slow trot, the duet seemed to travel along aimlessly – aware of their surroundings, but not sure of their exact destination. Enveloped by the dusk and gloom though, they continued to progress onwards, both sets of oculars directed forward. Turns were taken, the twosome manoeuvring and weaving through the intricate network of grubby alleyways, always in synchronised movements. Take a turn right. Take a turn left. Then, perhaps another left. Although masked – completely hidden beneath the opaque shadows, it is clear that the couple know where they were going, perhaps so that it would appear that they both have a sixth sense, so to speak? But, which sense? Night vision? Heightened hearing, or sense of smell? Or maybe – they just have a general all-knowing, omnipotent aura about them.. Although the same in both speed, action, movement and various other things that passers-by were guaranteed not to find out until it was too late, the duet are quite contrasting in colours. The larger of the two is clearly male, and greatly resembles that of a canine – an Earthen-based wolf – but follows a size larger than that of a wild cat. His shaggy fur resides in mute colours, a memorising mix of shadowy shades of grey, highlighted here and there with the finest silver. The most fetching region of this regal colour though, favourite appearance feature of the darkened male’s company, is a perfect stripe, running from forehead, straight down to the tip of canine muzzle. This streak of silver, of course runs in between two perfect oculars, mis-matched in colour. The left, a striking, bright gradient of yellow, and the right, a cooler, softer shade of amber. Both tail flame and mane, which trails quite low down the canine’s back, also follows this ember-resembling colour scheme, diffusing from an orange-amber closer to the male’s figure, to an intense yellow. His company though, is entirely contrasting in almost every way imaginable. The smaller of the two, is female, leaning heavily towards the feline side of the Pendragon gene pool. Resembling a concoction – a blend – of an Earthen-based lion and panther, her form is sleek and delicate. Though lined with a trim, well-toned layer of muscles, this female is rather thin – built for speed and movement. Built to run. Surprisingly, the femme is well masked by the gloomy sheets of shadows, considering her silky coat, made up of fine, polar white hairs. Her whole feminine shape is a pure, milky, snowy white colour, except a few vicinities of somewhat gothic colours – scarlet red and ebon black. Giving the femme built to run a suitable athletic look, two bands of the darkened colours run around each of her ankles, and the base of her tail – at the tip of her spine. Those of the five sets of colour bands closest to alabaster paws, are an energetic cherry red, and the bands above, are the darkest jet black. The fluffy tip of feminine, whip-like tail also follows this colour scheme – as do wild, uneven bangs. The thick tresses disperse from a sinister black near the feline’s scalp, to a morbid blood red at the tips. Distinctly different to the rest of her colour pattern, two vivid cobalt blue oculars finish off the femme, leaving her with a dazzling, bright exterior. Pressing onwards in the darkness, the pair soon find themselves faced with a rectangular doorway of dim moonlight. They had come to the end of the system of alleyways, and now, were facing one of the Black Market’s streets at a right angle. As always, Pendragon’s of all shapes and sizes line the streets, cloaked and hidden as best as possible, going about their own business – smoking, dealing, thieving. The usual. The female’s mystifying cobalt gaze trails over the streets silently, watching the movements of those dotted around. Unfortunately, all of the mobile stalls and crummy little stores were closed.. She and her partner had wasted a journey. The larger of the two had a need to equip himself with more weaponry, and so, earlier that evening, they had left in the hopes of reaching Bhim before everything was closed. But, obviously, were too late. With an almighty yawn, devilish fangs put on display for a brief moment, the alabaster femme sits, reclining silently upon snowy-white haunches. Directing her gaze to her partner, a wicked, ‘I-told-you-so’ grin curls slowly into thin lips. Whip-like tail began to flick slowly, the confident movement showing the duo-banded feline’s clear authority. Oculars half closed now, a sly aura smeared all about the wildcat’s feminine form, mouth opened slightly, and salmon tongue darted over lips, to prepare for speech. “I told you everything would be closed, Nassor.." Fluffy tail-tip trailed seductively up a charcoal coloured hind leg, and began to toy with the thick, shaggy fur of her partner’s haunch. “But, seeing as we’re here – do you fancy a.. Bite to eat?" </span>
Nassor grins at her 'I told you so' tone, <span style='color:#808080'>"Well, if we weren't held up we might've made it.."</span> Whether he was implying any fluffing she might have done before they left, or some other inconvenience, was unknown. But the statement was made in jest, because he would simply wait until the market was open again. The night time dealers were different from the day dealers. They were naturally a darker variety of pendragon. They often cheated and tried to swindle their customers; not that the day time peddlers didn't do the same thing. It was more dangerous at night, certainly. Only Bhim natives could walk out of doors in the middle of the night and not expect something to harm them. Except for a pair of vampires, of course. "But, seeing as we’re here – do you fancy a.. Bite to eat?" The grey male responds to her tickling tail fluff with a swinging step that slides his shoulder and chest up next to his companion. Bowing his head and burying his nose and muzzle in her neck fur beneath her chin like a greedy child, he responds distractedly, <span style='color:#808080'>"And what, my dear, do you have in mind for the meal?"</span> Fangs hidden in his maw, his canines already long from genetics, were now sharper from his new born ability. Eight days ago he'd met this sparkling banded beauty. Eight days ago he'd become a vampire, thanks to his female companion. And for eight days he'd had a most enjoyable time tumbling in the sheets (and other locations) with this same lovely girl. Lucky bastard. Nassor awaits her next reaction while playing in her fur. His mismatched eyes open and look at her from below her jaw line - the grin he now had on his face showing up clearly in his eyes. Far above the two of them, a white tilghe soars giddily in the night time clouds. It was cold that high up, but he didn't mind. Being an aerokinetic tilghe, all he had to do was excite the air molecules to warm them. He always travelled with Nassor, and always at a distance - while he enjoyed pendragons, the fact that too many wanted to touch him, or capture him, in Bhim, was beyond his tastes and patience.
Even in the lowlights of Bhim, Rhiannon Juemvull's irridescent blue pelt glowed with the patina of youth. Her eyes, blue like a frosty winter sky reflected in an unbroken flat of ice, gleamed in the dusk, wide with fear. Nyym... she said that when the evening bells were rung I was to come to the Fell Fang... Her thoughts rushed through her mind like dancing sprites, fleeting, pretty to look at, but redundant, and not very useful. Nyymthema was her mother, a silvery-pelted she-'dragon, strong and resiliant. The Fell Fang was a small eatery in the centre of Bhim, where her mother had been, and should have been now. Perhaps it was later than she thought. The lithe little femme had bounded as quickly as possible to the restaurant, but on the outskirts of the city, the bell's sounds were muffled and dim. She'd been drawing on a dark leather pad of paper, blissfully unknowing of the city's deaths and undercurrents. The little female was usually quite safe in Bhim for her careful operation of huge gossamer wings. She'd only ever been in true danger a few times, for she was small and didn't interfere with business and hadn't ever killed anybody, or stole opium or streetwares... and besides, she went out in the streets so often that she knew many little alleys to escape into. But at night, this night, that wasn't going to help her. For things that slunk, that melted into shadow and stone, things and people that were, not necessarily, evil, but certainly thirsty, were prowling. It was ecology. And it would have fascinated Rhiannon had she known about it, and provided she wasn't in the centre of the dark net that wove its way around her. The metallic blue female darted in the center of the street, and the moonless night only cast a measured amount of light over her metallic blue pelt. Catlike claws scrabbled quietly as her feline, rolling gait slowed to a trot. She was heading towards another bar in town; she figured that perhaps her mother would be there. But the Fell Fang had closed by the time she had bounded to its doors, and her shy grin at seeing her mum had melted off into an expression of confusion. She was supposed to be there... Wasn't she? Juemvull was now about twenty of her paces away the alleyway that housed the vampiress and her vampish lover; the main road ran adjacent to it. She was beginning to tire of her quick pace, and also of her leather bag slamming against her front haunch with every leap. The rough cobbles were stinging her paws from galloping along them. She decided to slow her pace greatly, to a leisurely walk. Her eyes still flicked back and forth cautiously, however. But she was young. She was insolent. She wouldn't live forever, and it was because of this she believed she could.
<span style='color:gray'> An amused smirk sweeps playfully over thin, alabaster lips, as Nassor snuggles childishly into the warm, milky white fur residing beneath Odi’s neck. His perfect canine muzzle, lined with that faultless silver streak, provided just the right humorous tickling feeling, almost enough to send the feline into a fit of girlish giggles, and a silly roll upon the floor, stomach exposed, ready to be rubbed like a young kitten. But of course, any playful behaviour would have to wait until later – it wasn’t exactly the fitting image for a pair of deadly Vampiric Night Feeders to display, was it? Plus of course, Odi would have to take a leading roll, as the brains of the whole operation. She was, after all, more experienced. Not that she’d ever been on such a hunt before, but oh well. She had vamped Nassor, though, so that was quite an accomplishment for the fledgling. And with that, it was clear to the feline that tonight she would teach and train her beloved – as well of course as picking up a few tips herself. And what, my dear, do you have in mind for the meal? The amused smirk curls into one displaying sheer cunning, and dazzling cobalt gaze lowers slowly to meet that of her mismatch-oculared lover. Finding it a difficult task alone to retain her sly and mischievous aura with such a puppy-like stare directed at her from below, one quadrapel paw rises, to scratch that oh-so-loveable charcoal coloured chin with an extended ebon claw. "Why, what else, my Love, than the sweet, scarlet blood of a Black Market resident?" Lids half closing in a naughty, roguish way, a quick wink is slipped deviously to Nassor. Tonight they would feast on the fresh, viridian nectar of one’s body, without any intent of handing out the gift of immortality as a consolation prize. Slowly eyeing the shifty characters of the streets, skilled salmon tongue darts greedily over chalky white lips. "Well Darling, which one do you fancy?"</span>
Nassor grins at her wink, and at the feel of her claw, being used for gentle means this evening, running underneath his chin. He would get to choose? My, my. But there were simply so many dark pirates of the black market that wouldn't be missed. He couldn't choose if his life depended upon it. Though, naturally, he would have to. Blood meant life, and taking into consideration that their victims' souls went on to Fronima, he should hardly feel ill about taking a life. Vampires were not rapine, souls were not taken, only blood. <span style='color:#808080'>"Hmm.."</span> the male murmurs, his tone suddenly thoughtful and serious. Choosing would be difficult. If they picked an ill 'dragon, would be blood taste odd? Younger 'dragons would be tastier.. as would heathier 'dragons. Across the cobbled street, a bar that would have been inviting, had it not been closed, housed a particularly darling young thing. She looked younger than she must be - being out so late at night, no loving mother would allow a child just into double digits to be alone. So the girl had to be older. Nassor's mismatched gaze lies solidly on the girl, but realizing what he was doing, he looks away. Why tip off the confused and cautious femme to a pair of eyes boaring into her from the shadows? Looking to his female companion, the male's grin returns in full force, <span style='color:#808080'>"Why don't we save that girl, there.."</span> He did think her blood would taste lovely.. His hunting instinct was being aroused by the prospect of fresh young blood. Enticed by the memory of metalic blood on his tongue. Excited by the thought of blood on his lips. He was hungry. Hungry for more than just blood. But blood would come first. Then perhaps his lover would allow him to play with her in the shadows.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>So, SO sorry for the delay, dolls. So busy. But it's almost summer... x3</td></tr></table> Rhiannon's diamond-blue oculars widened slightly. The smell of something decadently rotten drifted from an alleyway opposite the one where her future assaulters were hiding. She shivered inside, knowing that perhaps a life had been ended that night. She hardly knew that the gods would flip another number in the chart of death that dark evening-- hers. She was almost there, now, her crystal-cerulean sides exposed and fresh to the eyes of her killers. The alleyway was dark and gaping, and even though Odi's fur was pure white, her eyes could not penetrate the dim to see its sparkle. Her body was tense, and her inner senses began to take over. Her wings stretched, limbering to take flight. Instict threatened to dominate her, but her genetic programming was and had always been set to "flight not fight", and she was quite ready to flee. Her neck stretched out, and she looked to either side of her. Bhim was unusually quiet. Truth be told, Rhi didn't even know where she was walking to. It was a rather long trek home, and she'd have to go through some tricky bits of the city. But where was her mother? She let a sound of mute frustration out from dual nostrils, filling the air momentarily with a breathy squeak. Huge, batlike wings gave a violent pump, and the air thrummed. The little femme was lifted half-off her feet, her front paws just barely floating above the earth, teasing it with partially extended, glossy claws. Forcing her wings to stop their movement, she settled down back upon the ground. Her eyes flickered to her left, to the alley that housed the lovers, this time. Her little heart was beating quite fast.
<span style='color:gray'> Bright cobalt gaze remains upon Nassor’s features, as the darkened male’s charcoal coloured muzzle directs itself towards the murky streets of the Black market. His mis-matched gaze was searching, combing and scanning the shadows for a worthy feast – a fresh source of pulsing viridian blood. A supply of the sweet scarlet nectar that would provide nutrition and sustenance for the Vampiric pair. The snowy white femme, confident that her lover would soon choose wisely, remains watching the mute-coloured one sat closely at her side. Aware that the situation at hand is rather serious, seeing as the Bhim resident soon to be picked off would provide nourishment for the lovers, Odi couldn’t help but find herself drowning in infatuation. Nassor truly was a vision of faultlessness. Every ashen grey ripple of muscle, and each single strand of silvery tainted fur, seemed to scream utter perfection. As thin white lips draw into a lean, sly grin, salmon tongue darts across them. The lust growing, for both blood and her lover, Odi restrains herself from pouncing. But, no.. Wait. What had her beloved’s oculars latched onto? They seemed to be focused on something now. No longer tracing the shadows. Turning her head out to face the street, cobalt eyes followed her lover’s gaze. Mis-matched optics had clung to a young, feminine frame of fine, shimmering azure. Was she to be their prey? Or, as it appeared to the protective, milky feline, were male eyes wandering for other reasons? Returning bright blue gaze, now full of suspicion and curiosity, to her lover, one brow raises. Although, the smile remains etched into thin lips, it was reasonably clear now, that something had wriggled it’s way into the wild cat’s mind. Although only an idea that had popped into her mind within a split second – Odi found herself almost certain that Nassor was eyeing this other for reasons beyond that of her blood content. Why don't we save that girl, there.. Nassor’s muzzle, fully equipped with a wide grin, had returned to face the polar white feline. Twisting her ears forward, oculars attempt to read further into her lover’s expression. Was this grin a devious one, demonstrating Nassor’s lust for the metallic taste of appetizing scarlet blood? Or did it symbolise his lust to do other things with the little blue female? "Well, my love. It all depends on what you mean by ‘save’, doesn’t it..?" Smirking lightly, Odi winks, rising up to four paws and taking a small step backwards. Using one of the many privileges that comes with the gift of the Night Feeder, the femme summons an opaque shadow to wrap around her form, like a stretch of rippling, silky black material. Completely masked for a second alone, the shadow does a full turn around Odi’s quadrapedal form. When it smoothly curves away from the snowy white one though, Odi is revealed in her bipedal form, a jet-black leather coat, the length of her shins, wrapping around slender form – though flowing freely, as it remains open, and unbuttoned. After all, it was more fun to chase prey in the seductive, two legged form. No need to savage her like a pair of wild, Earthen-based beasts. Besides, what better way to keep Nassor’s eyes away from the young one, then distract him with something far more attractive? Teasing, the bipedal feline, her fur dancing with anthropomorphic nakedness beneath the leather coat, turns to face the street. Cobalt gaze traces slyly over her prey slash competition, checking for pros and cons. Those large, bat-like wings could cause a problem. The little one was perhaps likely to take flight, and quite simply then – the lover’s meal would have to be postponed. That obvious nervous nature of hers may also setback the pair’s plans. Such a minute snag could taint the young one’s blood.. But of course, Nassor’s choice was Nassor’s choice. And Odi was about to respect it. This little blue female does have her good points.. The duo-banded wild cat thought silently to herself, devious, half-closed oculars slyly searching over the young one’s form. She appeared young and healthy, which would result in feminine veins pumping heavily with sweet, fresh scarlet blood, the metallic taste strong and distinct. Plus of course, such youth may come with an enticing chase, which would only arouse the lust for both blood and each other in the pair of Vampiric lovers. And who’s to forget, that youth is often easy to manipulate? Some fun could be had with this one.</span>
Nassor smiles serenely at his lady lover. Did he detect a bit of jealousy in her body language and tone? He momentarily ceases processing this derective as the sly snow-colored femme morphs to her lucious bipedal shape. As she turns to face the street and study his chosen prey, he reclines backward and allows himself a greedy look at her curvy backside. Still in quadropedal shift, the grey male throws another toothy, devilish grin Odi's way with his suave reply, <span style='color:#808080'>"Why, save her from this cruel world, of course, love! Sending her delicate spirit to Fronima tonight would certainly be an act of heroism, don't you agree?"</span> He hoped to placate her suspicions, though his words were true enough. The pleasure he found in his lover he thought unlikely to find elsewhere, and not being a gambling man, he didn't want to risk eternity without such lucious company. Taking a deep breath and eyeing their ambling prey one more time, he reaches out a digitigrade paw to grasp her ankle, toying with her short fur, his finger trailing up the back of her calf, then back to her ankle, <span style='color:#808080'>"Should I remain a four-legger? Or join you, in your moon-lit splendor?"</span> He would leave the planning to her, seeing as she had allowed him to choose the target, he would certainly want her opinion on the matter of catching such a young creature. Whatever they did, they would have to act fast - even if they simply trailed the lone pendragon girl. Didn't want the prey to escape by simply wandering away now, did they?
Rhiannon's imagination was a most accurséd being. Though she could not hear the lovers' voices, she as good as imagined their existance in the alley, and shivered at what could become of her at night in Bhim. She pictured blood, and spun images of her own death from bare whispers of wind. Her bright-blue fur prickled unpleasently, and she couldn't take it anymore. Rhiannon skittered a bit ahead of the alley, into the shadow of a nearby pub. When she arrived there, she wasted no time. She pumped her wings a few times, 'till her front paws were hovering off the ground, and her back paws were firmly planted 'neath her spine. Then, she reached out with her mind to Fronima. Her mouth filled with a smoky taste, and she coughed quietly. Her eyes closed, and one finger extended from her left front paw. Using that as her physical "focus" for the act of tapping through to Fronima's power, she drove her finger out into the air, jamming her claw forth. Instantly, the surge of Fronima poured forth from the rent she'd created, and she concentrated all her willpower on it, pressing it together in a single shaft, which she channeled into her own body. Then, she began to change. Her paws quickly lost some of their canine elements and lengthened and gained in dexterity. Her torso flattened, and she winced at the feeling of her lungs shifting in her chest cavity. Her front legs, still feline, were useless on her now-humanoid form. She squinted at the slippery feeling of magic shifting through her mind, and managed to push her shoulderblades out and her joints up. On their own, her hips shifted outward to meet her torso like a human female's would. Lastly, her face flattened slightly; she closed her eyes at the bizzare feeling. Rhiannon was now in full bipedal form: running, jumping, and dodging would be considerably easier; and her wings fit naturally to her body now. The femme stepped from the shadows, taller, but still slim and naked. She was naked, yes, but her fur was so thick and metallic that one could scarcely see her delicate figure. It was as if she wore clothing in any case. Feeling slightly more confident, the little femme gave her silvery bat's wings a single flap and walked out again in the open road. But she frowned then. Where could she go? Where could her mother be? Her newfound bravery slipped away like the façade she knew it had always been. She shuddered. Who would care, besides her mum and dad? Who would be bothered that another flickering candle, never meant to flare and survive, had been extinguished that night? Who should give a damn about a scrappy blue pendragon with no money and an affinity for stargazing? Nobody. Nobody would give a damn. That was who. The little blue female clenched her fists fiercely and dug her claws into the cobblestones beneath her. I won't let anything happen, she thought, her defiance unknown to anybody but herself. I can't let anything happen.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>I’m so, so, so sorry for the delay! I suck. I’m kind of going through some personal stuff at the moment, which is leaving me all torn up and confused... So, it’s just taken me a while to gather up the will power to sit and write something up. Sorry again.</td></tr></table> <span style='color:gray'> Leather coated back facing away from the devilish, charcoal-grey male, Odi’s gaze forever lay craftily over the young one’s cerulean frame, the flavour of that sweet, pumping, metallic nectar already filling the wild-cat’s mouth. The Vampiric feline could already taste that lip-smacking source of life, causing salmon tongue to dart out quickly, crossing over and wetting her slightly parted maw. Clawing the life from such a pretty little thing would be quite a savage task – but surely, it was no different than the wilder of the Pendragon species killing lower varieties of fauna to survive? And, as her beloved quite rightly put it, putting the worried one out of her misery and sending her fine soul to Fromina would certainly be an act of heroism… This was no mere blood shed for survival. The Vampire’s were heroes! Odi’s elegant feminine visage turned slightly to face her four-legged lover, a tricky, cunning smirk sneaking and slipping into her thinly curled lips. It was clear that from her partner’s description of their act of heroism that the duo-banded wild cat was aware of Nassor catching onto her wave of jealously. Such a smooth talker he was… Most likely able to wriggle his way out of any thorny, problematic situation. Playing along with his valiant game, the femme speaks in tones of admiration, as though in awe at her beloved’s heroic words – a theatrical sigh lacing her speech. “Oh, Nassor… Do you ever put yourself before others?" Fluffily tipped tail flicks then, catching a polished ebon nose cheekily. Cobalt gaze returns to the prey, watching with intense curiosity as the sapphire coloured critter rose into a naked, bipedal form. What luck. This would make for an easier chase… Everyone knows that Pendragon’s in anthropomorphic forms are unable to pick up the same sort of speeds as those residing in a quadrapedal shift. That is of course, unless you’re body was built for speed, and you were trained to run from the early stages of your life. Or, if you’re a Vampire. The pair would have no problem with the chase. With their swift, shadowy Vampiric movements, and Odi’s added natural speed, the blue child was as good as theirs. “I say you follow suit, love. And join me in your devilishly handsome bipedal shift."</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Everybody has off days, and in my case, sometimes off months. lol. Don't be afraid to take some mental health time whenever you need it, alright? =D (that goes for both of you!)</td></tr></table> A subtle, prideful smile, washes over his features. The tiniest hint of arrogance causing his hunched quadropedal form to glow with self-importance. She believed him to be devilishly handsome? Well... flattery would get her everywhere... The male's smile endures as he detaches his paw from her calf. Sitting down, he bows his head, arms curled inward. Nassor initiates the change in his upper body first. His shoulders are the first to jerk as the joints change from that of a four-legger to a two. The range of motion of each were completely different. His elbows follow suit. His hands were already digitigrade, as all pendragons' paws were, but they elongate into strong fingers attached to a broad palm. His ribcage expands, as if he were inhaling, and he spreads his arms, fists clenched. Muscles ripple beneath his silvery-grey fur, his pectorals and chiseled abdominals blooming in the place of a man's shape rather than a wolf's. His hips are the next to change, the joints twisting silmultaniously with his knees and ankles. The bones in his legs stretch to their proper proportions in his larger, taller, form. His toes widen, and black lethal claws slide out, gripping the cobbled street viciously - though they make no noise, the strain was evident in his taut ligaments. Naked, though covered in a sheen of charcoal fur, the male rises to his feet. His face was largely unchanged, though his muzzle had shrunk, just a bit. His ears, eyes, and unruly flame colored hair, had all gone unaffected by his morph. Nassor smiles at the completion of his shift, though unable to follow her lead by adding a bit of clothing - he had brought none, and had not her skill in vampiric shadow manipulation. Though, it was quite evident, he was not cold... In any case, being as visually oriented as any male, he hoped she were even half as taunted by his unashamed form, as he was by her. As if posing, he raises his head to the skies, a piece of yellow hair falling across the bridge of his nose - overshadowing the silver stripe that ran down his snout. He found himself unable to spot Aodh among the night time clouds. Normally the tilghe stood out at night with his bright white scales, but he must be enjoying the cloud cover, and Nassor would not disturb him. The male returns his mismatched gaze to Odium, smiling with a devilish grin. Taking a few smooth steps toward her to close the gap, he reveals needle sharp fangs, shimmering white. Nibbling at her neck, though not daring to puncture her, for spilling blood before they even met their prey would be folly, and would certainly give them away. Nassor murmurs into her neck, enjoying her fresh smell with soft, but nevertheless greedy, breaths, <span style='color:#808080'>"Mmmm... I do tend to put others' pleasures and interests before mine, don't I?"</span> He straightens up, robbing himself of her touch before he went too far, too soon, though he hardly backs away from the sultry femme just inches from him. <span style='color:#808080'>"I don't think I'll change, either."</span> Forgetting his nakedness, as no pendragon, nevermind this particular male, was afraid or shamed of themselves, he raises his arm, lifting his elbow in offer to take her arm in his. In conjunction with this movement, he queries, <span style='color:#808080'>"Shall we go for a walk? Arm in arm? I do believe we would look less frightening that way... A loving couple, simply out for a moonlit walk... Perhaps then we could help her find her way..."</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>So sorry for delay. Literally, with all that's been going on, including my dad moving, my muse has taken a fall out of a 10-story window. I've tried to type up a response to this like three times and only succeeded once, at which point my computer ate it >_<</td></tr></table> There's someone-- The thought birthed itself, in her head, with no warning whatsoever. She clamped it down firmly. There was no need to think it. There was no need to scare hersel -- There's someone there. It finished itself, unbidden. As much as it terrified her, Rhiannon had to admit that she knew it. She was aware. She heard the voice herself-- a throaty, velvety female's voice, which sounded tonally like she was speaking to an intimate lover. Rhi couldn't discern what it was that the disembodied voice had been saying, but she could hardly bring herself to try anyhow. Immediately, physical fear took her, dropping into her stomach like a rotten fruit and sending prickly waves of sweat to her toes and up through her fingers. She shivered now, despite the relative warmth of the air. Her eyes widened, pupils dialating rapidly to take in any feeble suggestion of reflected light. She paused. The voice did not come again. She let out a long, low breath. There was a club somewhat nearby that she could run to, but she knew that aside from residential areas there was nowhere else to go. That very thought nearly knocked the bottom of her belly out, and she hung her head. At least the voice had stopped eminating from the alleyway. No. There. "Oh, God!" Rhiannon said in a tiny voice, with more than a little panic pulsing through it. There was now a male's voice, just as seductive. So much so, in fact, that it made the lithe blue female's cheeks heat. This time she caught just a snatch of what he said. ...tend to put others' pleasures and interests before... Her face still burned slightly, as whoever it was seemed to be murmuring it into someone elses shoulder. She exhaled just the slightest bit. Perhaps a pair of lovers were romancing in an alley. Perhaps they had no interest in her. Perhaps... But something still felt awful in her guts. Her instincts told her to expect the worst. Again her bat-like wings flexed, this time unfolding to their full capacity. She felt the thin, strong skin stretching over the long, spidery bones. She took a deep breath.
<span style='color:gray'> The leather sheathed femme growing ever longing for a fondle in the shadows, watches with sly, close attention, as her beloved shifts into his strong, anthropomorphic form. So memory enhancing was it to watch this peculiar twist of Nassor’s charcoal form, as Odium too, used to shift in this way. Sometimes, even in mid-run. But since she had begun to play with her new, Vampiric shadow manipulation skills, the old fashioned way of shifting seemed to be obsolete – past it. Cobalt gaze traces that faultless ashen grey form, as Nassor’s shift completes, and screams perfection. As he stood, in all of his naked, bipedal glory, Odi simply could not draw out words complimentary enough to describe him. In fact, she could not draw words at all. It even seemed as though she’d forgotten to breathe for a good few heartbeats – her breath snagged on the awe and longing and need that filled and pulsed around her slender form. It made no sense. For eight days, the milky white femme had Nassor all to herself. During that time, he’d been naked for her more often than not… Even when the pair were simply unwinding in their Dorm, and not taking part in any sexual acts, they had taken to not bothering with clothes. If you did wear them, there was more chance of them getting ripped off and ruined… So, why now, after all this time in his naked company, did Odi find herself longing to pounce just as much as she had the first day she met him? I do tend to put others' pleasures and interests before mine, don't I? "Indeed you do, Love. And I’m certainly not complaining…" It was as though every time she saw him in such magnificent splendour, he had sneakily become more attractive, more enchanting. How can one possibly gain even more good looks over the short period of just over a week? All Odi knew right then, was that it was taking one hell of a lot of self-control not to pin Nassor against one of the grimy, oily walls of the alley right away. As Nassor stands, tall and proud, as though posing, Odi steps silently towards him, one hand outstretched. Between thin, delicate fingers, she takes the section of yellow hair, which had fallen over her beloved’s nose – covering his silvery stripe – most probably Odi’s favourite of her lover’s physical features. Although he was quite simply a vision of perfection, with those bi-coloured oculars, and tall, wolfish ears – that little streak of silver just melted the femme’s heart. See? There’s more than just sex to this pair. Or, to Odi anyway. Was it true love? Maybe. Odium was just too scared to find out. No need to scare off such fine company. Especially with the ‘perks’ that Nassor brought to the Dorm… Brushing the strands of fiery tresses back, to free her lover’s muzzle, the sexual tension faded for a moment. This somewhat parental act, fingers tracing along that silver strip of colour, and the rest of Nassor’s canine muzzle, was clearly affectionate. Surely, Nassor could feel it to? That tingly feeling, which you only found when you pushed through the layers and slid through the heavy sheets of sheer lust. It was like some kind of trance… Shaking her head briefly, Odi frees herself from the grip of what seemed to be that strong emotion – which she refused to name, even in her head, or give into. In the hopes that her beloved hadn’t noticed her short period of weakness, a banded hand slips over one charcoal-grey elbow, letting Nassor take her arm in his. With a light grin, the wild cat reaches up slightly, to nip and lick at her lover’s neck, implying that she was rather up for some ‘dessert’ after their meal. "A walk would be wonderful, Darling." Odium smiles slyly, salmon tongue momentarily slipping across thin lips, as the want for blood slowly rising to her surface once more. The pair would share the metallic taste until their prey ran dry… </span>
The sexual tension between them both was thrilling, electrifying, even. Their first day together it had been too much to stop, and their lust had been satiated. Every day after that the pair had shared each other's bed, if for nothing more than a cuddle rather than a tussle. A glorious week in a relationship with a full throttle beginning, with no amount of slowing down. And now, he was quite sure they would spend eternity together, for nothing could seem to satisfy him near as much as she could. Perhaps she'd put a spell on him. She was more versed in vampiric seduction than he. And if she had, he certainly wouldn't fight the feeling. But of their usual hasty tussling, full of howls, grunts, quick movements, and oh-so-much blood to mark the event, something was instantly ... different. It was... tender... that velvet touch of hers that stroked his hair away from it's haphazard place across his platinum-striped snout. And a deep part of him suddenly yearned for this delicate touch across more of him, more than just a lock of hair. He surprised himself with this desire, though he wasn't upset by this gentleness he sensed - he was simply used to their being... rough. Demanding. He enjoyed a woman that knew her own mind and vocalized her desires, and he did everything in his power to obey and prove his worth as a lover and companion for eternity. But this gentleness she showed every now and then (and the fact that every so often he found himself reciprocating) did nothing to lessen his interest. Instead, it fueled him to learn more about her, to understand her, to -gods forbid other males from hearing this sentiment- talk to her. And not just about what position they would try next. He wasn't afraid... well... perhaps he was. But just a small part. What if she were simply changing up their play, and when they played again she would be the wild cat he was more familiar with? Sex was the original catalyst to their enduring romance, but if he wasn't mistaken, something else was growing. And... dare he even think it... he liked the idea of something... more. Nassor idily wondered who would make the first move, if she were as nervous as he? But no steps towards the L-word would be made at this moment. No, now they had a feast to begin, and it all would start with one foot in front of the other, just as any journey begins. One foot in front of the other. His face blooms into a naughty grin as she slips her hand inside his arm, and then her tongue proceeds to tease him with thoughts of things other than the bloodletting they were about to instigate. But he finds his opposite arm to the one that he had linked with hers, crossing over his chest, to cover her snow white hand with his large grey palm. He assumed she would believe he was simply acting up their part as an innocent couple, walking the night streets of Bhim. But... perhaps he meant it some other way? Nassor moves, then, not allowing himself to dwell on such things. If he got so shaky from nervousness that he gave them away... No. No more thoughts on 'what if'. Life could be worried away wondering 'what if'. Exiting the alley with a gorgeous woman on his arm, masculine pride suddenly flowed through him, dispelling all fear of former thoughts. Now the web would be spun by both he and she vampires, to lure this delicate young girl into their midst. A kiss with fangs would end her worry, and Fronima's loving embrace would soothe her for eternity. They were helping her. If her family mourned too great this loss of a daughter, rather than rejoicing in the eternal splendor she had departed for, perhaps they would help them, as well... All things in good time. One foot in front of the other. The male turns his head, as if he did not notice the winged light blue teen standing alone, the fear drifting from her aura in unseen, pulsating waves. Her nervousness and fright did nothing but excite him to the hunt that would soon commence. But none of this savagery was translated to his features or frame. Instead, he was relaxed, massaging the back of his lover's hand with his fingertips as they meandered through the cobblestone streets in the sparsely lamp-lit night. His jovial up-turned mouth, smiling secretly, as if he knew something no one else ever could, found it's place by the side of her face, whispering sweet nothings into her neck, cheek, and ear, though he was really not speaking at all. Instead of words, soft sounds emit from his maw, covering her sensitive neck with his warm breath, adding teasing motions with his fur and fangs, hoping to get his lover to giggle. Laughter was hardly something to be afraid of, wasn't it? All this to both satisfy his own sharply felt need to be close to Odium, and to portray the two hunters of the night, particularly himself, as if completely absorbed in one another, to anyone watching, and most importantly, their prey. With his apparent inattentiveness to the world around them, that would leave the females to do the talking. He didn't want to scare this young girl away by being the first to speak. And the end effect, he hoped, with this mutual captivation, that they were just as vulnerable as a lone femme 'dragon at night. More so, even, as a lone 'dragon was aware of her surroundings, while they were apparently aware of only each other. With a few movements from the alley to the street, he had put them on display. And now it was up to the young femme to decide if they were a threat, and what her next action would be. Would she relax? Would she speak? Would she run? Would they chase? The indeterminate future was what made this game... fun.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Loved that post, Zeva dear.</td></tr></table> Rhiannon heard no more from the alley for several moments, and the nervous feelings that twisted through her tummy abated somewhat. Her wings stopped straining; she folded them hesitantly to her bipedal form. Something kept her glued to that area, some immistakable but invisible force. She wished very much to turn away, and flit through the alleys looking for some open pub. But this was the Market and she knew that was wishful thinking; the pubs were just as dangerous as the streets themselves. A light flared to her left, and she whirled about, but it was only a lamp going on in a nearby flat. A pounding rhythm swirled through the air, now. Through the window of the dwelling Rhiannon could see gyrating and thumping sillhouettes of pendragons dancing to the faint, unknown music; she knew it must be deafening in the room. After a few second's glance into the window, Rhiannon felt a prickling starting at the back of her neck and moving down her spine and through her tail. She spun back 'round, facing the dark alleyway. Her heart took a flying leap up to her throat when she saw movement there, but soon she'd realized (or thought she had) that this wasn't as it seemed-- there were two lovers there, one deepest black and one snowy platinum, out for a stroll. At night? In the Black Market? But the tiny voice inside her head somehow silenced itself and she let her fears ease themselves. Surely, if they were so enthralled with each other's prescence, they could have cared less about a small, slim blue femme in the middle of a deserted street. But for all relief flooded her system, she still had the tiniest feelings of doubt brooding in her belly. The situation itself was all right, but her subconcious played like a tiny mandolin, plucking earnestly on taut strings of centuries-old instinct. Something was not right, could not be right. Not right at all. But Rhi thought she'd make rather an idiot of herself if she dashed away from them without even a decent facimile of a reason to. The pair were now strolling right by, muttering sweet nothings in a way that only made 'Non shameful of how skittish and nonsensical she was being. As they passed, she turned to them and nodded. "Good-- good night," she said shakily, rather grateful that the voices in the alley had not belonged to two more fearsome faces. But now that she thought on it-- they did have an almost... carnivorous grace to their movement. An almost dangerous lilt to their tones... Stop making stuff up, the youth berated herself mentally. And through her mind hummed against it, she stayed there, waiting, watchfully for their response.
