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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Be The Shadow | Current Timeline: May 16th ​

Tags: Hayley Britt-21 Britt-21 Coda Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees

It was after midnight when someone came for Hayley. "Pardon, Phoenix. They are ready for you. If you would please come with me?" The nondescript coven member bowed at the waist, and waited for Hayley to exit the room and walk alongside. She was led down a corridor with a slight downward circular slope. They were descending one level in the mountain. "I am taking you to the Red Lounge, you should be comfortable during the short wait for the others to arrive."

The Red Lounge wasn't actually red, it had blue colored furniture, with the natural rock color for the walls and floor. A large white and plush rug lay in the middle where the sitting area was. "Please, have a seat. It should be only a short moment or two." Another bow, then the coven member left, closing the door behind.

It was quiet, silent even in the lounge. The walls had been smoothed out, Sage's work no doubt. It had been designed to be a place to wait, nothing more, nothing less. Luckily, Hayley did not have to wait very long. The door opened and a tall and broad man with mutton chops, dressed in a long dark navy wool coat, stood there and gave Hayley a bit of a grin and nod of his head.

"Hey. I'm Mack. You ready?" He waited for Hayley to join him before explaining further. "We're going to pick up one more passenger on the way to your destination." He chuckled, his voice rough, like some sailor long gone at sea, and just now back in port to drown their sorrows in a barrel of ale.

"It's not far, just down this corridor. Let me give you some four one one. The other one we're picking up just arrived from Florida. He's half demon, and is being assigned to the one you're shadowing for a while. His name Cora. No.. Cona? No.. Fuck.. what was it.. Corona? Coda. That's it." He snapped the fingers of one hand with a meaty grin in Hayley's direction. "Kinda temperamental at the moment, but huge potential. Anway. Oh, here we are."

He banged a fist on the door, hard enough it would most definitely be heard on the other side. "Coda? Ready for you."

coded by natasha.
 

Roje.png
1598050756387.png
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words Rhyme Rhyme Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees || Location: Depths of Hell

"He was the only one that was sane enough. The most innocent one." she murmured. Bringing her thumb to her lips and nibbling it a little bit. Listening as Key's annoying voice filled her ears, having Banks being moved into Winnie's cell. Despite remaining as quietly as possible, the Vampire was sure to open her ears to every sound, every word, every heart beat within the room. It did start to irk her as Key was taunting Winnie practically, knowing very well he could be making her worse...Mentally wise that was. After hearing more and more of his words, her thumb was removed from between her teeth, a pissed off look starting to make its way back onto her face. Not everyone is made to do dark shit. Or sick and twisted things that your skinny dick had come up with. she thought bitterly. Keeping her back to the opening of her room. Fuck looking at that spiky-haired asshole. Things had moved on and from his choice of words, his first tech was killed by his own hands. Murderer. was all that could ring in her mind.

There was one person that was still around that she hadn't heard a word from. Morgan. Her kitten from the way beginning. Her charge that she failed to protect at all costs just because her and the demon had clashed left and right. I could be out there. Being the one to help them all out. I could have stopped Soda boy from... Mauling Banks. Beating him till he looked almost unrecognizable. Turning her head slightly, she heard one thing that ultimately pissed her off. Causing her to flip Key the bird, not caring if he was looking or not. I'm not no fucking pet. Give me a leash and I'll be hanging you with it. her mind was dark, but it was a way to torture the fucker. Fuck him. Fuck this hell. It didn't stop as Winnie tried to stop Key with questions. Give it up Ma. He isnt gonna listen. He wont ever listen. He's in it for himself. There's more that we dont know and we'll never figure it out if we keep being treated this way. Winnie was holding onto hope that didn't exist right now. Continuing to sit there in silence, she began to hear noises that were fairly familiar to her. Noises that were unlike others. Shifting her Hazel eyes to the side and tilting her head slightly, she listened.

A body was being healed.

The only body that needs healing was Banks'. she thought, her eyes widening "Oh shit." she said aloud He's fucking healing! Oh shit Ma your blood fucking worked! though the bad news about this all was that he was going to be a baby vampire. Unfortunately things went south fast as she heard the body and its insides making all these noises. But before she could say anything, she clenched her jaw, hearing the sounds of...whatever the fuck was coming out of Banks. But the smell came quickly and Roje almost died. Again. From the smell alone. So she took her thumb and bit into it, letting her blood come out and she rubbed it around her nose, using that to at least mask most of the horrid smell from her senses. "My feet smell better than this." she muttered and watched her thumb heal. The scent of her blood masking enough to keep her from vomiting herself. Did she even eat today? ...No just blood... The sounds of Winnie vomiting too didnt help. But she kept strong because she needed to. Sobbing had soon followed not long after.

Indy had been screaming for Winnie before instantly directing her words to her. Before she could speak, Indy screamed her name again and she snapped "Fucking hell Indy let me fucking speak!" she shouted, growling a little bit with a sigh "I cant see anything, but I can hear. Smell too. Banks' body was healing. I heard the skin moving.." the vampire slowly got back up to her feet as she turned toward the bars, staring right outside. Tilting her head slightly "His body sounded like it was forcing everything out, but, I never seen...or well..Heard a vampire transformation like this one." her transformation wasn't like this. Anyone else's transformation wasn't like that either. So this was a whole other ballgame "Winnie!" she shouted loud enough, using the tone she used for Maylee when she got serious with her pup just to get her attention "Listen to me right now!" her head turned slightly to the side "If he tries to attack you, snap his neck." that was if she wanted to save him and prevent him from causing more issues "If you want to kill him. Rip his heart out. You hear me!?" it was a hard task to ask her but no one could protect the smaller vampire.​
 
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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Sage

Tags Silver- Silver- | Location: Coven HQ ​


Sage looked at the black wolf rumbled and moved its paws a bit, having issues getting to the water and food. "Here, it's okay. Sage move it closer." Then he noticed the white one nudging a bit of food left for him. "Oooh, Sage is thankful, but you eat. You need more. Then then.. you two rest. Safe here. Let you get strong again."

There was a quick scramble near the flowers, drawing his attention to the side. Where a small mouse was struggling to climb out of the planter. "Oh, careful! Don't fall!" He moved a hand toward the mouse, just catching it as it tumbled over the side with a panicked squeak. "Oooh, shh, little one. It's okay. Even mices are safe here."

The mouse trembled in his hand, but he just carefully moved it to a better spot. "Here, this is better. Oh.. Sage has cheese. Wait here." The mouse was set down in a much wider planter, but with several other planters nearby within easy reach should it want to explore. And after a visit to that rock chest, some cheese was set down. "You can stay as long as want."

There was some commotion then on the other side of the door, like someone was trying to open it, but because of Sage's rock moving, it wouldn't. Sage dropped his voice to a whisper as he quickly activated the rune of hiding. "Shh, be quiet. You safe here if quiet." The minotaur stood then, rumbling and snorting out, "IT STUCK! SAGE FIX!"

Sage looked around the room once, making sure the wolves were hidden before touching the rock keeping the door shut. In a moment it was 'unstuck' and the minotaur stood, blocking the doorway with his impressively large form. On the other side were two coven members, and two dogs. "What want? Sage busy!"

He put on quite the show, stomping a hoof, swishing his tail with great agitation, snorting and huffing. The dogs were not going to approach the minotaur and shied away while one of them spoke. "Uh, we're looking for an escaped project. Have you seen a mouse? Or any other small animal recently?" They kept trying to peer in, but Sage was a really good door blocker.

"What? No! Sage have fish. You look for fish? No? Then no waste Sage time! Have work to do. Go away." He rumbled and snorted, flexing to look even more wider, glaring down at the puny humans. Humans who quickly bowed and left. Sage shut the door and then 'stuck' it again with some nice murmuring to the rock itself as he molded it to prevent further interruptions.

The minotaur turned around with his ears twirling like happy little clouds in a breeze painted by Bob Ross. The goofy grin was ear to ear, and he snorted, pleased at his posturing. Sage crouched near the hidden area, touching one of the runed rocks to turn off the ward once more. "Sage good actor! Sage does have work to do though. No one come in without Sage say. So.. see? Sage no lie to you. You safe here. Little mouse safe too. Hear that little mousie!" He grinned as the mouse squeaked in response and went back to its cheese.

"Okay. Rest. Sage check back. Good doggie." He wanted to pet them, but he didn't yet. Instead he just stood and moved off to the side. Pushing some planters out of the way, he worked on reshaping one portion of the far rock wall. It looked like he was making a new section of the garden.

coded by natasha.
 


In the hours after feeding, everything felt more: every sight crisper, every sound sharper. He could see the pores on the face of the coven member who led him to his new quarters, could feel the blood sloshing in his own veins as he lurched to the bathroom and turned on the shower, could hear the water funneling through pipes below after it was swallowed by the drain. He felt strong and sickened all at once; he shuddered with a hunger for more. Tantalus had had another taste, and with each retreat of the water, his mouth burned more.

Coda pressed his hands to the shower wall and ducked his head and shut his eyes, and a film reel of unnerving images began to flash against his eyelids. The mangled, caved-in chest of his meal rewound into Banks's crushed skull, into Roje pulling his horn from her chest as she murmured that she didn't hate him (liar), into Adrien and Malik intertwined in a shared bloody sleep, into Maria floating in an ethereal red bathwater coffin, into a cat curled up unmoving and unseeing on a streak of gore on the sidewalk.

Death. Every time he met death, the weight on him grew heavier and heavier, but—he tried to dispel the thought with distraction, listened to the throbbing of his heart in his chest, felt the rapid pulse of electrical signals in his brain. No, he told himself, it didn't matter how heavy it ended up. Every time he met death, he got stronger, too, and so he could continue to carry that weight. He could keep up with it. He was fine—

"Hey, kiddo."

Every nerve in his body lit up in recoil, and Coda spun wildly around, his wild eyes locking onto the figure slumped in the doorway—a clean-cut sweep of black hair, a stolid jaw angled away from him.

"Don't worry, I'm not coming in," Malik said. "Believe me, I'd rather see my grandmother's naked ass than yours."

Coda's heart pounded furiously in his temples. It's not real. He's not really here. Everything felt more after he fed, and that included the ghosts in his head; what was normally confined to the medium of sound was given illusory flesh by his unbridled senses. It was only as real as he allowed himself to believe.

"Oh, yeah, make no mistake, I know I'm not really here," Malik said, and Coda flinched. Of course. As a phantom of his own mind, the false Malik was privy to all of his thoughts. "But those feelings you're having? The feelings that made your brain fire that specific little set of signals that put me here? Those are as real as the blood on your hands, kiddo."

With a startled hiss, Coda looked down at his hands—no, he had washed it off—

"Oh, it doesn't wash out. Believe me, I've tried. But you knew that, right?"

Of course. From middle school and beyond, when the fights he had picked in the schoolyard had grown more and more vicious, Malik had spilled secrets of his old life to Coda, the life of violence that, he said, had left a black stain, a hollow pit on a vast stretch of his time here. Coda didn't want his life to turn into that, Malik had warned.

And look at me now.

"So how's it working out for you?" Malik asked, as effortlessly collected as ever. "Being some magician's dog, I mean."

"I'm nobody's dog," Coda snarled automatically, unthinkingly, and his mouth briefly snapped shut, but—fuck it, what was the use? The specter would hear every word loud and clear whether he spoke it aloud or not.

"Right. So what are you fighting for now?"

Another flinch. Dammit. He knew what the phantom was referring to, of course: one of their many conversations after a ride home from the principal's office, after he had stopped fighting to protect Maylee and had started fighting just to see her tormentors suffer.

"Myself," he growled tentatively.

The phantom let out a swift chuff of laughter. "Really? Who are you fooling with that? 'Cause it's not you. No, kiddo. You hate yourself worst of all."

Anger buzzed in his head. "Shut up."

"Hey," the illusory Malik continued, unfazed, "what was that you said to me that one time? You know. After that punk-ass kid from Geometry broke Mae's heart."

Coda's skin crawled.

"I said that I would never forgive anyone who made her cry."

"Ah, see, good memory. And I'll give you one thing—you weren't lying. I can feel it from here," Malik said.

Coda gritted his teeth. "Shut up."

"Just how much you won't forgive yourself, that is. You're dying to tear yourself apart, kiddo."

"I said SHUT UP—"

Coda lashed a fist out at the phantom, only to meet dead air; panting, he held his fist in front of his face and uncurled it, slow and trembling. Then he lifted his head and caught a glimpse of the mirror, of the creature that peered from the other side.

It was a freak that looked back at him. A freak and a murderer and a traitor and a dog, and he hated him; God, how he hated him, hated him, hated him.

With a wordless cry of anguish and rage, Coda smashed his fist into the glass again and again until he had obliterated the image into nothing more than discordant fragments. Then, panting and bathed in cold sweat, he shoved away from the bloody scene and lurched back into his quarters.

Coda's teeth chattered as he tore through the closet for something nice—the coven member had told him to dress nice, as if he had any fucking idea what nice even meant, and his hands trembled as he fumbled to fasten the buttons of the dark gray shirt he eventually picked out. The last few wouldn't be coaxed into position, no matter how hard he pushed, and so he gave up, snarling in frustration and leaving the top two or three buttons loose. Similarly, he barely even attempted to properly fix his tie, instead throwing it loose and haphazard around his neck. A nondescript pair of black pants. A pair of black boots.

A sting of pain drew his attention, and Coda looked down at his hand and saw wounds dotting the knuckles he had smashed from destroying his nemesis in the mirror. He grabbed a clean white shirt from the closet, tore off a length of fabric, and tied it around his knuckles as a makeshift bandage to complete the ensemble. A piece of rotten meat wrapped in silk, reeking of decay all the way through.

As if on cue, there came a knock on the door, and Coda flinched at the sound (fucking hell, stop doing that) before narrowing his eyes and letting out a half-frustrated, half-apprehensive sigh. Going to meet your new charge, he thought disdainfully. That big promotion you've been waiting for. That power you've wanted so badly.

You'll fuck it up just like you do with everything else.

When he opened the door, the motion was abrupt and unfriendly, and he did not greet the newcomers warmly. Instead, he scowled as he studied their features—an oafish-looking man with mutton chops and a woman with dark hair and lips as red as her ostentatious dress. His gaze lingered on her in particular. There was something about the intensity in her eyes that he didn't like.

"Who are you?" he asked, low and suspicious.


coda.

half-demon

 
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Hayley.png
1598055596076.png
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees || Location: Coven HQ

At first, Hayley was content with her outfit. But over time she grew tired of it. So instead she pulled out a dress that was still professional in a sense but it screamed her more. With her specialty in fire and her name being Phoenix, she decided to go her own way with this. So her clothes had been switched out and her hairstyle had been changed. Luckily she had finished on time because not a moment later there was a knock at her door, a coven member coming in and informing her that 'they' were ready. She moved quickly and headed out, walking along with the member. Listening to the words they had to say before giving a nod "Understood. Thank you." she said, being lead to the so-called "Red Room". Walking in, it clearly wasn't a red room. If anything it was just...a lounge. They really needed to pick the right terms for their rooms. Otherwise they just looked illiterate. Phoenix moved and sat down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other, taking a glance at her silver heels before looking around the room a little more. Pursing her lips a little in thought I hope Sage is being a good boy. That he's alright where he's at. at this point she might as well be a mother to the Minotaur.

The door opened after a short amount of time and the female got up from her spot on the couch, spotting a tall male that definitely looked like he could be a mob boss. Looked nice, but the guy could be a hard ass, so she decided to stay professional. "Hello Mack, and yes, I'm ready." she then moved over to him, listening to the extra information he decided to hand over to her. His laugh definitely caught her off guard but she didn't show it. Keeping her pace with him as they began to move down the hall. Hayley being Hayley, she continued to listen A half demon assigned to the one person I'm going to be shadowing... Interesting. A half demon sounds pretty strong, but also can sound very unstable. On top of that he's already temperamental as Mack said... she thought, narrowing her eyes just slightly but it faded quickly. Coda. I'll have to keep that in mind. Standing at a distance, she watched as the larger man banged his fist against the door, the brunette crossing her arms as she stood there, tilting her head slightly to see the face of who they were working with.

He opened the door and he didn't look happy at all. In fact, he had a scowl upon his face before he clearly studied them before asking who they were. "Phoenix." she said "Mack here said we were coming by to pick you up. Seems both you and I are being taken to the same place. Two birds one stone." the half demon was more human than she's ever seen. But he was a wolf in sheep's clothing and was only half. So a human form was to be expected. "You also look like you're trying to act like some kind of Host Club employee." she remarked, walking up to him with the click of her heels. Without them, she would have been shorter, but she was definitely closer to his height by a inch or so. "You cant go looking like that." she reached her hands out and she began to button the rest of his shirt, her touch almost hot from the blood rushing through her veins. Sometimes she was like a personal heater. Once done with those buttons, she then went and fixed his tie for him. Not pulling it too tight and leaving it a little loose "There you go. Now you're presentable." backing off, she looked at Mack.​
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Paralyzing Realzations | Current Timeline: May 16th ​

Tags: Edwin Thropian Thropian

The bears and their new den faded, like an old photograph. The colors faded to a dull yellow, outlines blurred, and soon it was swallowed by a dark nothingness. And still Edwin and his bear trudged back the way they came, toward the path into the dark unknown.

For a while, there was just nothing. No sound, scent, sight, and it almost felt like there was nothing under the feet. Bit by bit, the world started to seep back in, but if it was reality or another dream, would be for Edwin to decipher.

The faint beeping began to grow more prominent, as did the soft mechanical whirs, the tinny sounds of metal being placed on metal. Then the voices, dull at first, as if from a great distance. Words began to be recognizable, but not the voices, not who they were.

"Is he stable now?" The male voice asked without any emotion other than a tinge of annoyance.

"Yes." Another, younger sounding male, with a faint tremor or nervousness or anxiety in the tone. "Yes, he's good now."

"What the fuck happened?" Definitely angry now. The way a boss would sound at someone's incompetence.

"I.. I think it was a bad dream sequence. We've reset it and plugged in a different algorithm." A bit fast, as if pulling something out of his ass to save his hide.

"Fine. Check everyone. And the siphons?" Footsteps grew closer, someone moving in the room.

"Yes, siphons still on. We're still getting energy. Except.." Hesitation, reluctance.

"Except?" Impatient, still very angry.

"The old one. It's been.. a little more sporadic and the volume isn't what it used to be." Tinge of sadness?

"Hmm, okay. He has been here a while. Keep an eye on it, and we'll monitor it for a few days. Oh, and don't fuck up again." Less anger, more superiority asserted, then the one pair of footsteps receded. Grinding of stone on stone, twice, and then nothing more than someone moving around and fiddling with equipment.

Followed by a quiet mocking tone, "Don't fuck up again. Blah blah blah."

Edwin could tell he was on his back, laying on a bed. Eyes wouldn't open yet, nor would his muscles respond to his desire to move. They felt almost atrophied in a way, from laying still for too long. Something was over his nose and mouth, tasted sweet and clean. He couldn't yet feel all his limbs, but he was comfortably warm, and there were multiple machines beeping quietly. Multiple hisses of machines echoing through what sounded like a large room.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Griffin Banks

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Britt-21 Britt-21 Rhyme Rhyme ⬇
Location: HQ ​


Banks' body continued to convulse for a good minute or two more, held tight in Winnie's grip as she sobbed against his chest. One of the coven members quickly left to go let Key know of the newest incident. The other came to the opening of the room holding Winnie's cell, but he didn't dare get closer.

When the body grew still, it stayed still for a full minute. A soft scrabbling, scratching noise could be heard then. It would take some actual looking to realize it was the fingers of Banks' left hand, his only hand. They were clawing at the floor with desperate motions, if his nails hadn't already been short, they would be breaking against the stone.

Both of his eyes were healed now, and locked onto Winnie's face. Where she moved, they followed, tinged now with an orange-brown ombré, pulsing every few seconds. His skin was pale, almost milky white with splotches of a faint red undertone.

Fingers scrabbled still along the floor, inching closer to Winnie's wrist, their ultimate goal. They would latch on with the same desperate fervor, seeking to hold on tight, just shy of being painful. Those eyes never left her face.

coded by natasha.
 


Kill Banks? Rip his heart out? How in the world could she do that? No, not after what he had done for her—treating her kindly, unlike the other guards, protecting her, keeping her company. Even if the writhing, screaming creature on the floor was something new, something infernal, it was still wearing Banks's skin.

Winnie buried her face in Banks's chest, sobbing as she shook her head vehemently. "No!" she shrieked, her shoulders shaking violently from the weight of her sobs. "I can't. I can't kill him. I'd rather die!"

And then, all at once, he went still, and the only sound in the cell was Winnie's own labored breathing. Trembling, she drew back, peering desperately into Banks's pallor-stricken face. "Banks?" she murmured. "Banks, are—are you there?"

She feebly shook him by the shoulders. "Banks? He—" She began shaking her head again, calling out to Indy and Roje: "He stopped moving. He's not moving anymore. I—"

A thin, scraping noise reached her ears, and Winnie shuddered, her mind filling with visions of some sort of horrid creature trying to claw its way out from inside Banks's body, but—

Then she looked down and saw, with a paralyzing jolt, Banks's fingers scratching on the floor. Her gaze moved back to his face, and—

A startled cry leapt from her throat. His eyes were open and fixed directly on her, open and wide and a pulsing, unnatural amber hue. At the sudden eye contact, her powers activated, and Winnie was suddenly assaulted by an onslaught of phantom pains, tight and baleful, and she bent at the waist, letting out a yelp of pain as she felt Banks's pain as her own.

Stop it. Forget about yourself. Banks needs help—! Gritting her teeth through the pain, Winnie shakily raised her head and looked down at Banks, though she tried to avoid direct eye contact.

"Banks?" she choked out, a thin and weak noise befitting a mouse; that thread of hope within her was pulled as taut as it could bear, and with another tug, it would snap. "Banks, are you—?"

She flinched and squeaked again when something bit into her wrist; shaking, she looked down and saw Banks gripping her thin, rangy wrist; he constricted, and it hurt a little, but—

"Banks! I'm here, I'm here, it's okay, I'm here—" Thick, ugly sobs crested and fell in her throat, and she hurriedly clasped both of her hands around Banks's trembling fingers, gently squeezing them to her chest. "He's awake," she called out to Indy and Roje, "but he's—he's not attacking. He tried to take my hand. He's... he's in a lot of pain."

And all she could do for him, it seemed, was hold his hand, but—in that case, she was going to do it with all her heart.


winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Wendy Sawyer

Tags: Winnie Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Britt-21 Britt-21 Rhyme Rhyme | Location: Coven HQ ​


Someone new was watching from the doorway of the room, far enough from Winnie's cell to not be affected by what was going on inside, close enough to see and hear. Fingers of one hand idly traced the runes on the stone doorway, head tilted slightly to the left. Dark hair spilled down either shoulder, just barely falling past the bodice of the black sundress that fell down to her knees.

Her expression was one of caustic nonchalance, burgundy painted lips parted in a soft exhale of a sigh. "Not much of a big sister, now you're going to try and be that thing's sire? Really?" A derisive snort, countering the ladylike demeanor she put on.

Key appeared beside her then, one hand lightly touching the small of her back. "Wendy, you were supposed to wait for me." Key actually had a small smile on his face. One of Wendy's hands came up to trail fingertips along Key's jaw, tapping an index finger against his lips until he kissed it.

"Sorry, dear." Her eyes never left the sight of Winnie in the cell. "I was impatient to see how my big sister was faring, after she left me behind so long ago to fend for myself." Her hand fell away from Key as she moved a couple of steps into the room.

"So, what exactly did you create, sis? Hmm? Doesn't look.. right." Her gaze touched on Banks briefly before returning to study Winnie. "Quite the mess you're sitting in. Not a good color for you." Wendy turned to look toward Key. "My sister and her childe need cleaner accommodations."

Key gave a smarmy grin and a nod of his head. "Of course." He held out a hand, fingers closing around Wendy's when she took it. They retreated to just outside the room as a flurry of coven members descended toward the cell.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Time Is Relative | Current Timeline: ??? ​

Tags: Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf

His father clapped Leif on the shoulder, before leading the way deeper into the familial home, farther away from the closed door with darkness knocking every now and then. "Mother has been... fair. She's in her room. The stairs are hard for her."

The room shifted and changed into a living room, with a fireplace, old wooden framed sofa with hand sewn cushions. A large brown bear rug spread out between the hearth and the sofa, helped keep the feet from getting cold on the wooden floor. Above the hearth, a white wolf's head hung, with pictures of Turid growing up decorating the mantle.

"I'll fix you something to eat if you wouldn't mind taking her upstairs and reading her a bedtime story. Her favorite book is on the nightstand next to her bed. " Father moved to the kitchen, firing up the wood stove as he looked into the icebox for leftovers.

The stairs creaked, old wood, old groans, as he carried a babbling Turid to her room. It was first on the left, the one with pink homemade curtains, matching bed sheets, and a stuffed clouded leopard resting next to the pink pillow. The wooden night table had a small oil lamp, and a book that seemed out of place, but Turid was clapping her hands with glee in anticipation.

On the cover, it had a flying dragon, and a princess with short, dark hair in a knee length fairy tale dress. In one hand she held two braids, cut off at one end. In the other hand, the princess held a dark orb of magic. Black tendrils snaked out around it from almost every angle. Her expression was one of grim determination as she seemed about to square off with the dragon. It felt heavier than it should have weighed when Leif picked it up to see the cover closer.

"A Tale of Two Worlds"

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Rhevens Coldwater

Tags Silver- Silver- | Location: Coven HQ ​


The black wolf moved around a bit, taking in some of the drink and food. Midnight held still though, when people came to the door, unsure if whatever protection the giant bull like thing had, also blocked sound. When they had gone, and the bull returned to work, Midnight let out a bit of a snort, and decided to rest for now.

Rest for Midnight and Rhevens meant changing back to his human form. It was a process that drew Sage's attention, and he quickly returned. The minotaur found extremely interesting and watched, glue to the scene like a kid with Saturday morning cartoons. Ears spun on either side of his head, while Rhevens lost all the black fur, paws, tail and ears, leaving the naked human behind.

"Oh.. Sage get blanket." The minotaur moved quickly to get the blankets from the far side of the room. These were carefully draped over the naked human, and then the wolf. "Sage see before. You called... skin. Something. Sage not remember words well. Sage know seen like you before. Helped free another like you."

Rhevens was still having a hard time moving, but he did manage to curl the blanket around himself. "Sage sad no can pet now, maybe next time you doggie." Sage gave them another grin before moving back to the wall to keep working. "Sage go back to work. Rest."

Rhevens groaned softly, voice rough, mouth parched, like he couldn't get enough to drink. He slowly drew the bowl of water closer to sip out of it. All so he could quietly ask Silver, "Are you okay?"
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Alyce Wright

Tags: Coda Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Hayley Britt-21 Britt-21 | Location: Coven HQ ​


Mack was about to say something, but another voice spoke first. It was a soft sound, but with an underlying sense of power, and a twist of insanity. The way the tone shook and trembled sporadically, the pitch varying periodically, it was both here and there, carrying a faint echo of itself.

"I came to meet you halfway!" The woman had long hair, alternating between strawberry blonde to honey blonde based on the light. Blue eyes glowed subtly, piercing when they were looking direclty at someone. Though there was the occasional drifting away, as if following something else entirely.

For now, she was excited to the point of impatient. Mack dipped his chin, and started to make introductions, but she didn't let him speak. Her voice betraying the happiness at meeting them. "You must be Phoenix, you're Mack, and that makes you.." She tiled her head to the side, eyeing the half demon up and down before settling on his face. "Coda."

Mack again opened his mouth in an attempt to talk, the woman pressed fingertips to his mouth, "Shush. I'm speaking." Mack nodded his head, but she kept her hand where it was. Gaze turned to the others as she giggled once, then said, "I'm Alyce. With a y, that is very important to remember. It totally affects the pronunciation of the word. And I do so hate my name being mispronounced." She looked to Coda then, "And you get to keep me safe while I teach you more magic."

Alyce finally let her hand fall away from Mack's mouth, and he started to regain some of the color to his skin, having grown a bit pale at the idea of upsetting Alyce. "This will be so much fun!" She clapped her hands and reached out to take one of Coda's. "We'll have the ceremony to bind you as my guard and protector. And you.." She looked to Phoenix. "Will be the witness, and then my shadow for a couple of days, right?"
coded by natasha.
 

Hayley.png
3ec7cef2bd8f4b1edfe97d6ce8ea19ac.gif

Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees || Location: Coven HQ

Hayley felt a chill run up her spine. A chill that was stronger than most because of her hot blood. Rolling her shoulders to remove the shudder that wanted to take it's place, she glanced over towards a voice that soft, but something about it held a higher power than even her own. Hazel eyes looked towards the woman as she approached the trio She's definitely one of the higher ups. That power... That tone of voice... I need to be careful what I say around her. Catching Mack in the corner of her eyes, she dipped her own head a little bit in greeting just to start off on the right foot. The more Hayley listened, the more she felt off-put. As if there was an ulterior motive to this girl. Unfortunately I could be right... she admitted to herself. That's how covens worked, always backstabbing whenever they needed. Which was why whenever she was working with them, she never left her back unguarded. It's kind of why she allowed herself to come here. She was strong, they knew she was strong. It was time to start putting her business-like personality to good use.

Speak when spoken to. Listen do not speak. Questions are saved for later. She remained composed and serious, listening to her interest in the half-demon. The way she acted only proved Hayley's theory right. Speak when spoken to. Alyce with a y. Noted. On top of that, she had to make sure she had said it correctly. Another thing to note down. Coda was the protector of Alyce, while she...Wanted to teach him magic? A demon had its own strengths, why did he need magic? More and more questions were flooding her mind, but she remained quiet while Alyce spoke to Coda. But as soon as Hayley was spoken to, her hazel eyes lifted and looked at Alyce. Speak when spoken to. Once she had finished, Hayley gave a nod "That is correct, Ms Alyce." she wanted to be respectful and professional, so that's how it was going to go. "I look forward to your teachings."
​
 


Coda stiffened and flinched the moment Phoenix (what sort of name was that?) drew close and started adjusting his shirt, as chiding and nonchalant as if she were his mother. He narrowed his eyes, taking note of a sudden heat that swept across him, and was reminded of that first meeting with Roje—the vampire's sardonic attitude, the stupid, stupid way he had gotten flustered. A bitter ache clawed at him from the inside. How little she had known him then. Over the years, he had seen that same disgusted, horrified look on many a face, the look as his true, aberrant nature was revealed, but it still stung, and he hated it.

But no—this heat was different from the one that had accompanied his first meeting with Roje; it pulsed and emanated from Phoenix herself, as if she were a hearth giving off a warm glow. Phoenixes were those mythical birds made out of fire, right? Was this woman some kind of walking ember?

Part of him itched to slap her hand away, but she backed away before he got the chance. "I'm here to be a guard," he said gruffly, "not a decoration."

He followed Hayley's gaze to Mack, who seemed to be in charge here, but before the thuggish-looking man could speak, another voice pierced the air, high and clear like a bell.

Coda was startled at the sudden appearance of a spectral wisp of a woman, like an apparition in the way she floated about in front of Mack. It bothered Coda that he hadn't heard her coming—his senses were sharper than ever, now, and he shouldn't have missed someone coming up on them. Where had she come from, anyway—?

The air seemed to shift subtly at her presence, and Coda glanced around to see both Mack and Phoenix clearly perturbed to different degrees; the latter seemed merely a little apprehensive, while the former seemed to be trying to turn to a statue with how rigid and colorless he had gone. Whoever this woman was, she was important, and it became unequivocally clear in his mind at that moment that this was his charge.

His mind quickly began to race. He had expected some sort of regal, queenly type in a well-furnished room, a woman aged in power and experience who would barely deign to look at him. But a young, almost frail-looking woman, so uncannily childlike in her earnest excitement that she had come to his door—he hadn't been expecting her, nor her pair of eerie yet hypnotizing blue eyes that stared unabashedly to his very core. He felt exposed, dissected, and he didn't like it.

You're not here to be comfortable, he rebuked himself. You're here to fight your way to the top.

He held the woman's gaze and his ground as she introduced herself—Alyce, with a 'y'—and reiterated his assigment: to guard her while she—

Wait. What?

His brow furrowed. She was going to teach him magic? Key hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. What did that mean—?

A jolt ran through him as Alyce took his hand without warning, her words about the ceremony barely registering in his ears. A blurry daze had settled over him, and he felt his neck flush. He had been so eager at the opportunity to seize power that it hadn't occurred to him how he should act in front of his charge.

"I'm ready," he said grimly, "but—this is the first I'm hearing about this magic." What was her agenda? Was she trying to imply that his skillset was lackluster, that it needed to be bolstered with magic? "I don't need magic to protect you—" The words, defensive and bristling, stuck on his tongue. No—that wasn't really why he was here. One did not pick a demon for the task of keeping something safe. "—to destroy anyone who threatens you, if that's what you're getting at."


coda.

half-demon

 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: I don't know man
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words ​


Leif could hear something knocking behind the closed door, and he shot it one last glance before following his father further into the familiar home.

When Hjalkar answered the question about his mother, his brows furrowed in both confusion and concern. He’d have asked further, but the twisting room kept him from focusing enough to formulate any questions. That was definitely not what the way into the living room looked like.

A lot of things were out of place, but what stood out were definitely the pictures on the wall. He barely processed what his father had said, something about a bedtime story, as he stepped closer to examine them. As strange and out of place as they were, he couldn’t help but smile at the scenes of his daughter growing up. Scenes he’d missed.

It was strange, he knew some things were clearly off, but his mind didn’t seem to regard them as important. He took notice of them, though, kept those observations in the back of his mind, while focusing on what his heart demanded.

His eyes landed on the white wolf head garnishing the wall, his head tilting to the side slightly as he tried to remember whether it’d been there before. He’d seen a lot of white wolves, hard to tell. Until something bumped against his leg, and flashbacks of that meeting at Devlin’s crossed his mind. His gaze shot down to see Fenrir, his parent’s dog, asking for a scratch behind the ear. White fur covered the dog’s once dark muzzle, though other than that it looked the same.

As he knelt on the rug to greet his old furry friend, Turid still held tightly in his arm, he examined the bear pelt closer. There’d been a bear in those flashbacks too. He’d also seen many bears, so hard to tell much.

It was upstairs, in Turid’s room (his old room, remodeled, as he noticed with fondness) , however, that the sight of that stuffed animal really made things offsetting. Bears and wolves were nothing extraordinary in the region, but a leopard? The fact that he immediately recognized it was proof that there was more to the world than what that scenario offered him. Back in the day, when he wasn’t an outsider in his own world, he wouldn’t even know what a leopard was to begin with. His daughter’s babbling brought him back from the contemplation state he’d been in, and he grinned, reassuring her she’d get her bedtime story alright.

When he picked up that book, though, he noticed what’d felt too natural so far for him to note. They hadn’t been speaking english, but their old, dead language. The book was in english though, and what was on the cover was just as unsettling. ‘A Tale of Two Worlds.’ He knew it was Maylee the moment he laid eyes on the figure pictured. And a dragon. Devlin? Dark magic? Dark magic was present in Maylee’s blood; what was it with that orb? Now that dream was playing too many games. After holding it for a bit, he did notice the book to be heavier than it seemed.

If it hadn’t been for Turid’s gleeful impatience, he’d have held the book in his hands a lot longer. He wanted to know what was inside, but he also didn’t, just like he’d wanted to know what was behind the wooden door, but hadn’t dared step through it. It was just a book though, and he hoped it wouldn’t take away his choice. He had the feeling the door was still there, waiting in case he changed his mind, though he wouldn’t go there to check. His daughter wanted a story, and he’d give her that, if nothing else. Anything he could, for however long he'd be able to stay.

There were a thousand stories he could tell her. Maybe five hundred, the other half weren’t child appropriate. But she wanted that book, and he complied, opening it as he sat on the bed after pulling a blanket over her legs.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Finish Him (via Discord) | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris Maeteris

The beast was jabbed at here and there, the sword piercing skin again and again. Blood trailed down the creature's necks and chest, further weakening it, slowing it down. Both heads roared, anger spewing forth, hiding fear like a scab over a wound.

Front legs buckled, but it stumbled to stay on its feet. Somewhere in the beast's sounds, her fathers voice hissed. "How dare you. HOW DARE YOU?" Over and over again, like a broken record. Even when the beast finally fell to the ground, barely able to lift either head, much less snap at Evelyn.

The sword felt heavy in her hands, but it was the right kind of heavy. A balance thrumming in her grasp, it knew there was more to be done, and it was ready. It was beyond ready. Years, maybe even centuries had been building up to this climax. This choice.

Somewhere, whether it was her father's voice, or her own voice telling her what she knew, it filled every space of the clearing they were in.

Finish him.

The blade whistled in the air like a bow on a violin's string, barely registering the wet slice of flesh and viscera.

"It is done." She finally said, flicking the filthy blood of the blade.

There had been no quarrel in her mind. It needed to be done, it's head would serve proof for the conglomerate and the board enough. The board, she sneered. Another band of filth to be ridden.

Something glinted, catching the light just right from where it had been buried into the neck where the two heads branched off. It twinkled, flashed to get attention. Golden and purple hues battled for dominance. It was a small chest, like a small musical keepsake. The kind where once opened, a ballerina would spin to some tinny music created with tongs running over little ridges and bumps on a wheel that turned.

Evelyn poked the head,, pushing it away until it rolled on the ground. Thats when she saw the small chest in the creature's neck. She bent down to dig it out of the beast, nail and finger painted with blood.

It was a curious thing, fascinating perhaps discounting where it came from. Decorated in cut amethyst and gold giving it a mixed hue of both. A treasure from the Scuris estate likely, she glared at the corpse.

Opening it one handed proved to be a challenge, but she got it eventually. A tiny model of a female dancer spun around as the object emitted a song. She'd seen this contraption a few times--a maiden's toy. Hard to believe she'd wanted one.

Sloppy, Exarch, sloppy.

The little figure spun around and around as the music played. Yet, it began to take on a different quality. The tinny music turned into something the Philharmonic Orchestra would have played. A string of lights began to weave around the dancing figure, up and up. Moving to spread along Evelyn's hand and wrist.

Up and up even more, even if she dropped the little music box. It had her, twinkling and tickling where it touched and brushed against her skin. And still it moved, it would not stop until it was spinning around her whole body.

At which point does she need to begin question her sanity, she wondered. As lights and music began picking in earnest, the dancer disembarking it's stage and prancing up her forearm, moving up and everywhere across her body.

She was positively too gobsmacked to bother. The sword held firm, and having half a mind to sweep the edge where the toy was tip toeing. "Get off me." She ordered with a clenched jaw.

The string continued to whirl, faster and faster, until the clearing was obliterated by gold and purple. The tingling sensation increased to a pressure, first from the outside, then something from the inside, as if trying to meet it halfway.

It wasn't painful, but a very strong, intense discomfort.

Evelyn shook her body wherever the thing went, the box lay open on the dirt. What mattered now was getting this offending contraption off her!

Vehlkas, what the hell is happening. Her head felt heavy from the assault of colors.

Suddenly, the circling strand of colors stopped, but it also tightened around her form. Only for a moment, trying to squeeze out whatever was inside trying to escape. There was likely the sound of cracking bone, nothing more than the way a body 'pops' when stretching, but unnerving all the same.

Then the world returned, and Evelyn was alone in the clearing. No beast, no sword, no musical box, just Evelyn. Well, and a darkness slowly closing in from all sides.

Beeping, low and quiet seemed to enter her sense of hearing before the darkness hid everything from her sight. "Hey uh... a little help over here?" It was a male voice, young, new based on the uncertainty in his tone.

Evelyn couldn't move. She couldn't see. A mask was over her face, fresh clean air for her to breathe. Limbs were weightless, numb, not responding. And still that incessant beeping in the background.

Her senses were all assaulted at once, even her body tightened by an unseen force, popping bone as it pressed her. She fought against these binds.

Gasped breaths, she turned frantically to see shadows converging on her.

A voice called out for help, a male. She's a little outraged by the request, help him? What about her! "I cant help you, I'm in a bit of a debacle myself." She hollered, muffled by a mask.

This is torture. She'd heard of this method before, sense deprivation and intermittent sensory overload. "Banshees! I am a Scuris! You will not hear the end of this!"

Sadly, all the hollering was only in her head. She couldn't even open her mouth to utter a grunt, caught between a state of wakefulness, and the dream. The other voices continued around her. "There's a spike in energy here, and I'm not sure why. Was this one magical?"

Another voice, female, detached, "Not according to her chart. Why?"

The male gave a laugh of disbelief, "Well, she sure as hell is now."

Not banshees. Mortals! Mortals have her bound like a pig yet again! She screeched out the top of her lungs, "Mortals! You will pay for this! By the blood if my ancestors I will make you bleed until the last drop!"

The female spoke, tone growing worried now. "Shit. Shit! Seriously? There's got to be something in her chart." There was the sound of papers rustling nearby.

"Oh.. look here." There was a moment's pause, footsteps moving around to her other side. "Wow, this is old. Is this latin? Tenetur a veritate. What is that?"

The male responded, voice concerned, like afraid to delve deeper. "Dude, look at the note at the bottom. Level B files. Level B files. I'm not touching it."

They fear something. Her? Unlikely. Her words and the threat of retribution from her family would be more correct. As they should!

"Ungrateful curs! Do not speak of a language you barely know! Tenetur a veritate." She corrected. Bound by truth. Whatever truth that was.

She breathed, gasping against binds.

Papers rustled, then tapped on a surface, like people tended to do when trying to even out papers in a stack. "Fine. We'll alert the Hallowed Circle and maybe they can make sense of the sudden magic surge. Come on, we have other sleepers to check on."

Footsteps moved away, but not out of the room. She was left with the beeping and whirring of machines.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Alyce Wright

Tags: Coda Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Hayley Britt-21 Britt-21 (via Discord) | Location: Coven HQ ​


Alyce grinned at the two of them, but when Coda protested on how he didn't need to learn magic, she giggled and held one of his hands between both of hers. One on top, one on the bottom, palm to palm, fingers moved over his skin as she gazed into his eyes. Seeking something perhaps.

"To protect a dragon, you need to know dragon magic."

He didn't know which was more uncomfortable: Alyce's hands gripping one of his with unnerving intimacy or her eyes refusing to break that piercing stare. What was she looking at, exactly? What did she see that had her staring so raptly?

Freak. Murderer. Traitor. Dog.

He scowled, and though his heart was pounding in his ears, he willed himself to stare back. He couldn't show weakness by retreating.

So she was a dragon? The revelation set off another bomb in his mind, shedding fresh, pressing questions like shrapnel around his skull. A dragon—dragons still existed? He had always sort of assumed they had been real, once, but had been hunted to extinction long ago. And moreover, weren't dragons supposed to be downright petrifying in their fearsome power? That was how storybooks always seemed to talk them up, anyway. Why did a dragon need a protector? And why a half-demon? Why—

The questions buzzed ceaselessly, a swarm of flies, at the meat of his brain, but ultimately, what came out of his mouth was: "You don't look like a dragon."

Alyce leaned in close, getting into his personal space as it looked like she was going to whisper her answer. She didn't truly whisper, but it was soft spoken all the same. The grin in her eyes as much as in her lips. "We learned how to blend in when needed. But.. the dragon will come out to play soon enough."

She patted his hand and finally let it go as she took a step back to look at Hayley. A head tilt to the left, and fingers moved to trace along the right side of Hayley's face. "Where is this one being sent to?"

Mack answered, "Circle of the Sacred Flame."

Alyce tsked softly, hand finally falling away. "I think she has more potential than that. Let's see after the shadowing, yes? Yes." She clapped her hands and did a little spin in a circle, making the white dress, half gauze, half silk, flare out around her.

"Let's go get better acquainted!" A shoulder shrug, and she started to lead the way with Mack letting out a bit of the breath he had been holding when she added, "You can go Miss Mary Mack. Thank you."

Hayley was quiet throughout their conversation. Listening carefully and watching, caught off guard at the fact that there was a Dragon literally standing in front of her. Though in a human form A Dragon... Just what are we dealing with here... she thought to herself. Being in the lower ranks really prevented important information being passed down to her. Which was frustrating to say the least. When her face was touched, Hayley refused to flinch or even move back from the woman's touch. Speaking as if she was some kind of object. Though the fire user knew better than to get upset over something so small and trivial. Once again she was surprised as Alyce said that she possibly had more potential than the Coven was giving her credit for. Time to get this show on the road
coded by natasha.
 
Clementine Holt​

Clementine tried catching her breath has the pixies stopped their assault. She stood up cautiously and wavered slightly, looking over to Lew. When the girl crushed the pixie in her palm Clementine inwardly cringed. She wasn’t a fighter. She tried to avoid conflict when necessary and danced around uncomfortable subjects that could lead to any confrontation.

This situation she currently found herself in was not natural for her. “Okay,” she breathed out tiredly. The shield raised back into its defensive position as her palm outstretched towards the magical beings. She glanced back at Lew and smiled slightly at the friendly gestures the girl gave towards Clementine. With a quick blast, Clementine continued her training with greater vigor than before.

Time passed, but Clementine could not tel how long. Rocks continuously pelted off the luminescent shield as bright lights blasted out from her palm into the fairies overhead. The onslaught never seemed to waver. Her body pushed itself through magical fatigue and helped flush out the previously unused magical pathways Clementine neglected. However, physical fatigue soon followed and Clementine kneeled onto the ground with a tired huff.

Confident in her newly trained abilities, Clementine continued to cover herself and looked over toward Lew’s form. “Lew,” she called out. “I get it now. I understand that my own magic is as powerful asI believe it is." She glances towards the pixie. "But I am exhausted. I don't think I can train anymore for right now." She tried to push more magic out of her palm, but what followed was a dim dance of lightword that fizzled out onto the ground. " I'm tapped."
Clementine, even when exhausted, smiled triumphantly and stood tall among the others around her.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Storytime (via Discord) | Current Timeline: ??? ​

Tags: Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf

"A Tale of Two Worlds"

Once the cover was opened, and the first standard blank page was turned, the story began. There was a picture of the princess, only with her braids still intact. She was looking up at the reader, at Leif, and was dressed in normal, albeit a little scraggly and worn, clothing.

"A long time ago, in another world not so far away, lived a princess who didn't know she was a princess."

On the next page, she was there with Malik and Adrien, and a small boy with little horns. The two men were holding hands with the princess between them, while the little horned boy stood behind them. His body was facing the window, but his head had turned to look at the affection they gave the princess.

"She had two dads, and a brother. The brother knew he was meant for something greater, but no one else could see it. Not even the princess."

Leif would translate the story as he read it out loud. Though he probably wouldn't even need to read it in order to tell a very similar tale. He wished those memories had been nothing but part of some twisted children's book he read once, though he knew all too well they weren't. A finger traced the pictures painted (or printed?) on the yellowish pages as he paused the reading for a moment, a moment that couldn't last long so Turid wouldn't grow impatient.

He pushed himself further up on the bed, leaning against the wooden headboard and stretching both legs forward as he wrapped an arm around the little girl, pulling her closer and scratched her hair before reading further.

Page was turned, and the next illustration was made for a child's eyes, but adults could see the tragedy. The two dads were laying down, face down, on a red 'carpet' that didn't seem completely even like most carpets were. The princess stood there, tears down her face, red from the carpet staining her clothes as she must have knelt on it. There was no sign of the horned little boy who yearned for affection to himself, from himself.

"One day, the princess found herself alone. She could not wake her dad or papa, and her brother was gone. The princess had to find her own way in the world now."

He knew that was coming, though he still let out a small sigh of relief at the realization that where the illustration of what should've been a grim, gory scene should be, was a drawing made for a child's eyes.

"Who got you this book?" he muttered once he'd finished the sentence, not really expecting an answer. Good thing they didn't have the habit of sugarcoating things too much for kids. The world was what it is, and they could grow up in it while still being kids. That meant Turid heard about death from early on - what'd happened to her mother had never been kept from her.

His eyes focused on the princess' face, and he couldn't help but picture what it'd been like in the real world, outside of that twisted illustration. He'd never heard of the horned boy again, though he doubted him to be dead. The more evil, the harder to kill, was usually a good rule of thumb when it came to the supernatural, and the sulfur in that boy's blood was something hard to forget.

The page on the opposite side still showed the princess, now older, but who she was couldn't be denied. She was riding a bicycle, with a basket full of flowers, half them them looked like little skulls. In the background was a flower shop, and in front of it, an old man.

An old man who looked remarkably like Leif's father would in another couple of decades. He seemed to be staring at the reader, at Leif.

"The princess learned how to live on her own, but she didn't learn well. She delivered flowers, and in return, held onto the belief that one day, her prince charming would come."

His gaze was fixed on the old man staring back at him from that page. He could guess who it was, though he'd never actually seen the man. Not like that. His father had died younger, in battle. A good death, the sort that beyond mourned, was also celebrated. The sort the man gave Leif a second shot at, by making that hard decision he'd made.

He shot a glance up to the door, staring at it for some seconds. He wanted to check on his mother, too, though he didn't step away from Turid.

As Leif read further, his brows furrowed once again at the sentence. Maylee hadn't struck him as the type of girl to sit and wait for some prince charming. He sneered. Those royalty stories were always one big joke. If he were to guess, from the little he could pick up from their few interactions, she'd be more likely to spend her time planning her little brother's death, understandably so. Perhaps if the little dark haired girl he once knew had grown up unharmed, she'd sit and wait for a prince. The woman he'd met though, definitely couldn't.

Turning the page showed the princess with tears on her cheeks. She was dressed in normal clothes and was looking up at a warehouse. Standing around her, were a big teddy bear, a walking tree branch, and a shield, like one of those knight shields from long ago.

She had a knife in one hand, the bear had a big gun, the branch had a staff, and the shield had a couple of pistols. The warehouse doors were open, showing boxes holding stick figure creatures. Almost as if they were drawn in by a toddler.

"The princess met a band of merrymen who took her on an adventure to save others. She made friends, and a taste of a new family."

If the little girl cuddling against him hadn't been his daughter, he'd have easily forgotten she was even there as the story carried on. It was Maylee's story, though that section he didn't remember knowing. A small smile crossed his lips, though he quickly recalled she had no one but the florist when they spoke in that big house at a... ranch? Yes, a ranch. More things had happened, and while he wished he could just ask her what that adventure had been, and who was it that she'd saved, he had no option but to carry on reading.

On the opposite page, the princess was in an embrace with a form of shadow wearing a face mask on its head. They were in a small room, like the room of some tower where the princess had lived. There was only one bed in the room, and they were at the edge of the mattress.

"The princess found a prince, and love. She lost her place in the world for a time, choosing to live in a dream instead."

Now that part he wouldn't want to ask her. A shadow with a face mask, though? He couldn't say much, to be honest. He read the phrase printed on the page once, before reading it out loud again for Turid to hear.

Something had brought the princess back from the dream and into a darker reality, one where she was alone. He wasn't oblivious to the many meanings the phrase could have. Whatever it'd been, was on the next page to be discovered.

There was the soft sound of a little girl snoring. Turid rested against Leif's side, asleep but needing to be tucked in.

Leif's eyes were drawn to the little girl at the sound of snoring, and his lips formed a fond smile. He put the book down, but left it open on the page he was going to read next, had Turid not fallen asleep. He was more interested in that story now than Turid probably ever was.

He took his time tucking her in, almost wrapping her in the blankets like that was everything that mattered in the world, careful, very careful not to wake her, though if she did end up opening those eyes, he'd relish at the sight. That might as well be the last time he'd get to do it, you never know. It'd been that kind of thought that had haunted those last months he'd gotten to spend with her, until his health had deteriorated too much for it to be safe for her to remain with him.

Still sitting beside her on the bed, he bowed down to place an affectionate goodnight kiss on her sleeping face, one hand briefly caressing her hair.

As he pushed himself up back to a sitting position, he shot a glance at the door again. His father hadn't been back yet, and he had to check on mother, though that meant leaving Turid alone. No, he didn't have to go to that door, not yet. Not ever, really. He'd go check on his parents, then return to his daughter, and figure out what to do after that. Maybe the book had some sort of answer.

As he looked back at the little girl, though, he ended up letting himself fall back on the bed beside her, just for a little bit longer. He dare not leave her side just yet, and dare not sleep. Who knew where it'd take him.

Leif turned his head to the side, to the bedside table where the open book now rested, and reached for it.

Only before Leif could pick up the book, the world spun into darkness. It felt like hours, but only moments passed before he found himself sitting at the dining table. Breakfast was spread out across the table with three plates. His father sat at one chair, a few more wrinkles, a few more gray hairs on his head. Maybe a little more of a receding hairline. Turid was there, only she looked more like seven than two years old.

Her blonde hair was done into two pigtails, the eyes still as bright, the smile just as wide. "Pass the bacon, Papa?" She held up her plate for some bacon strips.

coded by natasha.
 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Matrix
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words ​


Leif would never imagine the first feeling to make itself present once he found himself at the dining table to be an unsettling one. The sight of his father and his now around 7 years old daughter should have brought him immediate joy. It did, in a way, but it was also off-putting, unlike the first time he’d encountered them again after all that time.

He hadn’t fallen asleep on that bed. He’d been reaching for the book, when the world spun into darkness. That wasn’t what falling asleep felt like. And no way 5 years had flown by like that, with no new memories, nothing to keep him grounded on some sort of tangible reality.

Just how much time had passed? Sure, he had eternity. If at least some of his memories were real in some real life world, somewhere, he should be a vampire. Time shouldn’t exactly be a worry of his, he could dream however long he wanted to. Though a dream like that definitely spoke of something else, something different happening wherever reality actually stood. He had to scour the room for clues, anything.

Still, a warm smile formed on his lips as he placed the bacon strips on the girl’s plate.

“You’re growing up.” he spoke quietly, smile still there. Might not be real, but it could’ve been. Still a sight he’d take with him wherever he ended up at.
 
Evelyn Harper



She woke up with a start, eyes snapping open, breaths gasped and short. Her cloudy vision returned slowly to normal and she could feel the beating tantrum of an unwanted headache. Machines surrounded her, sterile white decorated the room and the smell of antiseptics hung in the air. A hospital?

No.

She remembered the voices--mortal voices. The anger swelled up in her, teeth gritting in contempt. There would be time for vengeance. Once she fully understood the situation. She swallowed, her throat dry and prickly from disuse. Her limbs didnt cooperate, but surely enough, given time her fingers started to move. A game of patience, and she a creature that would win in time.

location: Hospital • tags •mood • Outfit • interactions
 


As Winnie tried desperately to coax some kind of speech or signal out of Banks, anything, she became suddenly aware of a chilly, tense vibration in the air, that highly-specific sensation that arrested one when they became suddenly sure they were being watched. A shiver stole down Winnie's spine, and she found herself clutching Banks closer—whether she meant to protect him or seek protection from him, she wasn't sure.

And then the voice trickled into her ears like freezing water, and her brain shuddered; there was something abruptly familiar about the voice and yet uncanny all at once, as if it were a sound remembered from a dream, distorted by the sensory soup of subconsciousness. Winnie's head snapped up to meet the approaching figure, and everything within her recoiled in horrified denial. 'Big sister,' the woman had said, and indeed, Winnie saw, buried beneath her elegant, chilly features, traces of those sparkling eyes, those round cheeks, that cherubic little nose that had been one of the few sources of light in that musty, grimy little house. Winnie glimpsed the dark, pristinely-painted lips and recalled that time her little sister had sloppily applied Auntie's lipstick and gone about planting gleeful little kisses on everyone's cheeks just to admire the marks. She had been mildly disappointed when, dark as it was, Mars's fur wouldn't show the stain.

But how...? How is she—?

Uncanniness radiated from her form like pollen from flowers; the woman stood tall, poised, her hair sleek and perfectly groomed rather than the tangled little bob Winnie had tried feebly to tame with pigtails and barrettes in childhood. The dark dress she wore hugged the slender, pleasing curves of her waist, and Winnie felt a shameful hint of resentment prick at her: the little sister, indeed, looked more like a woman than the frail, scrawny big sister ever would.

But how? How?

Winnie had never seen her like this before; clearly, she was older, more mature than the skinny little girl she had left behind in that house of horrors, but the youthful beauty she still wore seemed eerily divorced from time. She should be decades older, now; what sort of unnatural manipulation of time had arrested her body in this ideal state? Why was she here, with the coven...?

Horror and guilt ate away at Winnie from inside, stinging like acid, but despite all of the confusion and anxiety and dread swirling in her mind, there was a diminutive seed of hope: my sister is here.

The seed was mercilessly ground into dirt when Key approached from behind and draped an arm with telltale affection around her sister.

Winnie felt ill watching the casual, comfortable intimacy exchanged between the two, the acrid lack of mercy in her sister's eyes. It was clear that Wendy resented her deeply for running away from home all those years ago—and, really, why shouldn't she? Winnie had quietly despised their father for absconding, for being too soft in the spine to stay and tough out the worst with them, but she was every bit a coward as the man who had failed his promise to protect her, just as she in turn would fail to protect her sister.

You had no choice, a desperate, selfish part of her mind whispered, you wouldn't have survived if you had to stay in that house any longer. She didn't know about the worst of it—

And yet, at the same time, her mind rang with harsh condemnations for her tepid, pale excuses. Moreover—could she really know, for sure, that Wendy hadn't picked up on the most deeply-buried of the secret horrors in that house, that she hadn't put two and two together when Winnie began to soak the sheets of their shared bed in urine, when she stiffened and clenched her little sister in frenzied fear every time footsteps sounded outside their door at night, when she began to flinch every time Auntie's fingers so much as brushed her skin?

If she were a real sister, she would have stayed. She would have stayed and endured and learned to deal with it, but instead she had run away to spare her own cowardly hide, and she was a disgrace for it.

Winnie was ablaze with shivers, and her senses were in a dazed muffle, Wendy's sharp words barely registering between her ears any longer. She was now clenching Banks every bit as desperately as he clung to her.

But then, abruptly, she became aware of a flurry of movement, and Winnie's heart began to beat furiously in her temples as a shadowy swathe of coven members circled and closed in, a pride of lions moving in for the kill.

All this time, her tongue had been uselessly, fearfully cemented to the roof of her mouth, but just as the coven members reached her, ready to consign her to her fate, she screamed out her sister's name.


winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 
Last edited:

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Razial Hale

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees | Location: Coven HQ​


Maylee didn't have too long to rest, barely an hour or two later, though maybe it felt like longer, the stone door opened and closed, and Razial was there again. "Change of plans. We're going to speed train you. It's fun! You ready, Freddy?" He looked refreshed, well rested, and full of energy.

Razial fairly bounced in place, one hand moving to do that flippy hand wrist turning thing. "Buckle up, Buttercup. We're going on a ride." He was already moving fingers together in precise patterns, and the red lightning flared from palm to elbow. And a moment later, they were no longer in her room.

Instead, they were in what looked like an outdoor obstacle course for magicians. Spinning targets, floating targets, animated creatures pacing and waiting on the sidelines, rings and hoops, flags of different colors waving in front of a levitating board, and so much more.

"Time moves differently here, daisy petal. Here, you can train for days, where only a couple of hours will pass in the real world." He gave a little scoff, "Maybe this is the real world, hmm? Never know." He took off his jacket and let it drape over a tree stump nearby. Then he rolled up imaginary sleeves, as the one he wore was short to begin with. "So, needle pulling thread, you will learn how to weild your magic."

Razial sat on the tree stump, crossing his legs at the knees. Hands rested on top as he eyed Maylee. "Only, that dress won't do for your training. Hold still, honeybee." Fingers moved, magic wound along his arms, and next time Maylee looked down, she was in form fitting, but comfortable and flexible black one piece with red embroidery trim at the wrists and neckline. "Can't be plain black, that would be too gauche. Now, questions before we begin?"
coded by natasha.
 


The dragon will come out to play soon enough. It sounded like a warning, almost, and he couldn't deny that he was more than a little eager. He had had enough of babysitting cats and defective vampires; Coda was hungry to tangle with a real beast.

Someone who was as much of a monster as he was.

He glanced hungrily at his charge as she addressed Phoenix and traced every flicker in her eyes, every subtle curve to her lips, every whimsical sway of her feet. He needed to figure out as much about her as he could, but paying attention to her words was important, too—he had been wondering why, exactly, Mack and Phoenix were to be accompanying him, and it turned out that Phoenix was to be shadowing Alyce preceding an assignment to some new branch of the coven he hadn't heard of before. So what was she, then? A witch? He thought of the spark of warmth that had emanated from her. Perhaps she was proficient in fire magic, or maybe even a phoenix shifter—he planned to find out soon. If he was going to be working with her, he needed to make sure he knew what she could do, how to take her out if he had to.

Coda wasn't sure how he felt about having a few extra guests than he had anticipated. His natural view of strangers skewed towards suspicion and distrust, and Mack and Phoenix were no different.

After she had finished addressing Phoenix, though, Alyce cheerfully dismissed Mack, and so it turned out he must have been nothing more than the messenger. The man's relief as he slipped away was both palpable and a little pathetic, and Coda felt a heady buzz at the back of his head at the promise of danger, of power that so clearly followed each of Alyce's steps.

I'll make that power mine.

With Mack scurrying away, Alyce began to move in the opposite direction, her skirt floating like a specter at her feet. He was both suspicious and feverishly impatient to find out what 'getting better acquainted' meant, and when Coda took a step to follow his charge, he made sure he was standing between Alyce and Hayley. He wanted the place closest to her side.


coda.

half-demon

 


She had taken post atop her bed, filling a plate with as much food as she thought she would be able to stomach—as much as the thought of taking Razial's charity disgusted her, Leif and the others were more important than her own pride, and she needed to be as strong as possible if she was going to be of any use to them. An apple clenched in her hand, her eyes snapping shut as she chewed through the tough, juicy flesh, Maylee tried to find some kind of focus, a clarity that would help her to calm down and think clearly and decide what best to do to work towards finding and helping Leif.

Her eyes flew open, though, when the heavy stone door suddenly groaned, and goosebumps popped out on her skin at the familiar cadence of Razial's voice. Maylee shoved the plate of food aside and rose swiftly to her feet, clenching her fists at her sides; she did not want to give him the impression that she had lost her fire.

The abrupt change in timing for her training felt more than a little suspicious, and Maylee found herself wondering whether something had happened behind the scenes, a spanner in the works he had so carefully constructed. If he had, indeed, been forced to change trajectory on short notice, he showed no sign of it; Razial was as comfortably loquacious and falsely-affable as ever.

The sooner I start training, she thought, the faster I'll get stronger. And so, despite her reservations, Maylee allowed herself to be transported with Razial's magic, a startling, electric sensation that lit up every nerve in her body and burned so brightly it forced her eyes shut.

Her hair was standing on end, her skin prickling when she arrived near-instantaneously at whatever destination Razial had decreed, and when she opened her eyes and looked around, the sight that greeted her allowed little time to recover; vaguely, she was reminded of the training course for track meets, an echo from a distant, previous life, but the display that now surrounded her looked like an athlete's playground distorted by several layers of dreams. The targets Olympic athletes used for archery practice, she imagined, did not generally float, nor did the flashing boards used to keep score at baseball games. The barrage of colors and movement and sound neared sensory overload.

Still, Maylee told herself to focus. She cast a grim, suspicious glance at Razial and bristled when he peppered his explanation of the strange pocket realm they had descended into with one of his many saccharine pet names. Doll. Buttercup. Daisy petal. All of them made her smaller, less of a human and more of an object to be prodded and played with. It was a disorienting dance he had pulled her into—one moment, she was 'like royalty;' the next, she was nothing more than a toy to be put back on the shelf.

And then he rubbed salt in the wound by undressing her.

Maylee clenched her teeth to hold back the startled noise that bubbled in her throat; an unpleasant, tingling sensation firing across her skin as she felt her dress dissolve to allow a new garment to grow like an enormous scab. Her cheeks burned in hot, humiliated anger, and her stomach recoiled—

(This was not how it was supposed to feel. In another time, in a dream, perhaps, she had felt the intoxicating warmth of a pair of hands snaking beneath her shirt, and she had wanted it, had wanted the shirt gone because it was a barrier, because she wanted to be close to him, one with him all the way down to the molecular level for however achingly short she could make it last.)

Maylee crossed her arms around the front of the black-and-red bodysuit Razial had picked for her, resentful of the way it hugged close to her curves.

"I know how to dress myself," she snapped. "Why not leave this in the room instead of the dress?"

Ultimately, though, it wasn't as important as the task at hand—get stronger, for Leif, for everyone—and so she shifted her focus to the many, many questions pressing on her mind and wondered which of them Razial was most likely to answer.

"I don't even know... how to use this magic," she admitted, averting her eyes in embarrassment. "How to make it... activate, I mean. Do I have to recite an incantation, or...?"

Her stomach curled unpleasantly. Even now, there was a distinct fear that her attempts at magic would fizzle out as spectacularly as they always had before, that Razial would erupt into cacophonous laughter and reveal that this had all been an elaborate trick, that she was a greater fool than he had thought for going along with it for so long; oh, if she could see the look on her face—

Not a princess at all. Nothing more than one of the mice scurrying about Cinderella's cellar.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 
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