streetwise angel, booksmart devil
#1
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private for libri. north west of pictou falls. she's maybe a 5-10 min walk from there. EDIT: SERIOUSLY. THIS KETCHUP BOTTLE AVATAR LOOKS RETARDED.

Word Count → 627


The fine line between lunacy and wisdom was, as the two-toned juvenile seemed to be finding out, thinner than what she’d expected. What if all great beings were truly nothing but living examples of insanity in all its glory? Once an immaculate jewel: untarnished and divine, Lillith Stormbringer had fallen from her self-proclaimed throne as Azathoth’s sole survivor, the cult’s last doctrinaire. Caught in her involuntary demise was her very own daughter of nearly two, left to follow in a path predestined by a woman deemed, more often than not, completely mad. The Mother’s teachings had been brief yet thorough, ingraining the cardinal points of survival in the mind of her progeny: manipulation, trickery, egoism and callousness. Lilin Soulstorm was the sum of an intricate combination, bound by blood to a dam and sire nothing short of insane. Hereditary or not, psychosis was a potent hazard: a ticking time bomb waiting to explode at any given moment.

Brought up in a world where inflicting pain was considered fulfilling one’s destiny in the eyes of a higher being, Lilin’s principles were close to inexistent. She had witnessed The Feeding: the ultimate sacrifice, her mother’s gruesome way of atonement. Newborn puppies, all under twenty days of age, became victim to brazen jaws. And amidst the brutality, hushed prayers were recited to please The Almighty. Purification, she’d been taught, did not come without sacrifice. Their rituals were incognito, meant for Azathoth descendents only. For all the madness that lurked within her, Lillith possessed enough brilliance to keep her practices away from prying eyes; not that inquiries were ever much of a problem. Born into a pack consisting of predominantly indifferent males, amicable bonds had never materialized. To this day, Lilin was still unaware of how her dam, heavily pregnant at the time, had managed to earn a place amongst them. But she never questioned. There was nothing to question. Her mother would leave in the middle of the night to spend time with them exclusively, “grown-ups only” as she’d once explained.


Until one day, the madwoman never came back from her midnight stroll. Lilin waited hours on end, impatiently awaiting the Stormbringer's familiar onyx silhouette to materialize in the vicinity. The moment never came and the oh-so comforting scent became scarcer with every moment passing by. With Lillith’s departure, food and privileges vanished also. No straight answer had been provided by her pack mates and it was then that Lilin understood: this was the end of life as she knew it, the end of chapter one. She marched across terrains never before seen, vaguely following the outskirts of the big blue sea. It felt like she’d traveled a million miles before reaching the mountain looming in the distance. She knew, either from stories or her dam’s sleep-induced blabber, that part of her heritage lay hidden beyond that specific landmark.

She’d stolen enough dried food from former pack mates to last a while, preying on creatures young or injured along the way for good measures. But sooner than later, supplies ran low and hunger began ripping through her stomach. While she’d made a point to shun any canine encounters up until she could reach a destination she deemed safe, her insides churned with the need for nourishment. She’d gone around the rocky obstacle, preferring to avoid unnecessary physical strain and was now faced with a new threat. The pungent waft of concentrated civilisation was bittersweet. The young female could no longer avoid it, not while she couldn’t support herself. And for the first time in her life, she felt sincere curiosity. Was this where her ancestors had once lived? Both ears stood alert as the sound of trickling water made its way towards her, coaxing the Soulstorm daughter in its direction.




table by the Mentors!

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#2
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Shallow thoughts of the art of preparing a meal more advanced than skinned and raw flesh had allowed the blonde’s feet to stray from the desired path they should be following. Perhaps he subconsciously desired to hunt down the memories left here, nearby the falls and their frosty streams. But today was no day for silvery songbirds, and the fallen Prince did not linger to search for the light foot prints of silenced creatures with broken wings. Itachi adjusted his path to bring him southwest, though he intended to keep the ocean to his far right as he slowly paced back to the well-guarded Kingdom of Thorns.

The light, white melodic purr of the nearby stream offered little but shallow, vocal company, but he didn’t ask for more. Solitude was one of his dearest friends, and there was not enough time for them to spend it together, unfortunately. The carcasses of two rabbits in the morph between spring’s brown and winter’s white dangled quite lifelessly in the male’s right hand, and he found himself pondering if he should be throwing in the white towel and find a suitable place to camp for the night. The thought was not appetising, but the bodies in his hand was becoming stiff and cold, and he wanted to skin them sooner rather than later.


Walking a decent distance from the nearby stream he had followed, he decided to make camp. Days were shorter and darted into darkness before evening set properly. Darkness had not embraced the luperci before a small fire had been gathered and lit to keep it at bay. Itachi did not fear the dark, but he needed the light to see. Fetching the short skinning knife worn in the belt under the heavy, dark coat he wore in the cooler months of the year, the blonde man started to skin rabbit number one. A voice whispered against his neck, but he lacked the desire to respond. He had never asked for this curse.


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Table by Hilli
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#3
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Word Count → 461

Her determined gait had dissolved into the sluggish drag of her two supporting limbs. The impending feeling of doom hovering over her like a stormy cloud, the psychological restraint that accompanied unknown scents brought forth by frosty winds and an upset stomach were all responsible causes for such hesitation. A good night's rest hadn't been granted since the start of her so-called journey and at this point in time, Lilin found herself willing to do anything to quench her body's screams. Yearning had become something akin to desperation and until her biological needs found themselves somewhat satisfied, the bi-colored girl's normal pep was on the backburner.

She could hear the distinct sounds of waterfalls crashing into connecting bodies of water prominently now. With nightfall approaching steadily, the New World’s unfamiliarity became slightly more intimidating. Obviously, this wasn’t the first night she would spend by herself. But the prospect of spending it alone surrounded by wolves on a territory that wasn’t her own made it a bit more difficult to digest. Low rumbles tore through her abdomen once more and with a discouraged groan, the Soulstorm juvenile allowed her knapsack to slide off her shoulder and onto the earth. It had crossed her mind to simply throw a temper tantrum right then and there, if only someone would've been there to see it. Not that it would’ve helped much anyway. Or would it?

The unmistakable fragrance of dead prey came wafting through the crisp atmosphere, ensnaring her every sense with its exhilarating promises of scrumptiousness. The thought of digging her fangs into a freshly killed victim was so stimulating that the young she-wolf’s salivary flow doubled exponentially. It wasn’t until her brain had fantasized about eating a meal multiple times that it finally registered the hindering factor in this situation: the masculine smell of another canine nearby intertwined with smoke. Someone was setting up camp for the night. Under normal circumstances, Lilin would have retreated without so much as a second thought but at that very moment, all bets were off.

Picking up her luggage once more, this time with a little more resolve, the loner made her way to the source of delicacy. There she found what she’d been looking for accompanied by its obvious owner, a creamy male with scarlet pupils. “Hey, mind if I sit?” she inquired, although not exactly awaiting his answer to do just that. Placing her sac onto her lap, clutching it in a manner that might’ve seemed a little overprotective, Lilin allowed her blue orbs to briefly examine the strange hybrid before moving on to the two rabbits. “Are you gonna eat all that?” All that? Who was she kidding? She could probably eat a dozen and still have room for dessert.

table by the Mentors!

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#4
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A beggar materialized from the darkness, but the man did not draw in enough energy to scowl at this uninvited presence. Sunset eyes peered, disapprovingly, over the unexpected woman’s uncharacteristic markings. He felt the instinctive pull to reject her immediately because of her unnatural appearance. The instinct of the wolf did not approve of foreign markings, and this look alone strengthened his distaste for this impolite intrusion. The feeling was of course strengthened when she asked her question, though sat down regardless of any answer he might have been ready to serve her. In fact, he did mind. ”I do,” he answered drily, though the harm was already done. Eyes of fiery hues returned to the rabbit he was skinning, refocusing on what he actually was doing before this uninvited guest arrived.

She didn’t seem to hold the specific scent of any of the nearby packs, and so he placed her as a loner, at least for the time being. It mattered little, for he didn’t see the significance of trying to get to know the face of someone he was unlikely to meet again, ever. A muffled sigh whistled through parted lips. Ears dressed with soft hues of spun gold flickered at her next question, which proved to be bolder than her first. This second time, it seemed she knew better than to simply make herself comfortable. Had she reached for the meat without a through in the same manner as when she sat down by his fire, the sharp flaying knife would likely have dug into her insolent, greedy hand. He didn’t dignify her question with an answer, nor any other form of acknowledgement of her voice.

She was one of the first loners he had encountered, and perhaps it was custom for wanderers to gather around the same fire and share their meals, but he was Salsolan, and a greedy, uncaring person in the first place. Only one other person seemed to matter to him, and he couldn’t settle on the answer why this was. He supposed China was special, somehow, in some way.

A coldness crept up along his neck, and he barely resisted an involuntary shudder. This evening seemed full of dark promise. Finally, red eyes flawed with lilac rose to peer upon this strange looking female a second time, and the hands that had been busy skinning the rabbit fell still. He didn’t like her.


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Table by Hilli
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#5
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Word Count → 456

Certainly not one to converse with, was he? While other canines might have gotten a clue and left at the first signs of antipathy, Lilin found herself unaffected by it. Au contraire, she was accustomed to borderline rejection and insolence. She had spent her entire life living with a clique of good-for-nothing males under the grasp of her dam’s feminine assets. Never had she been addressed directly by one of them. Not that she really cared either; the brawny dolts had kept her fed and alive. Whatever deal they’d had going on, it had been promptly abolished with Lillith Stormbringer’s disappearing act. And now here she was, facing the same problem she had been presented with back home. Another greedy brute simply refused to share his meal. They were all the same, preferring a dispute over the hassle-free road. He could have given her a portion of a rabbit, not even a full one, and she would have already been on her way! But no, instead he chose to make it quite frustrating for both parties.

Still, the two words he’d spoken were disconcerting. In reality, she had expected him to provide an answer to her second inquiry and not the first one. He had done the exact opposite and needless to say, it bothered her to some extent. Okay, so he minded her presence. She knew that much already. It’s not like his attitude had gone unnoticed. His obvious disdain with her physical appearance had also been discerned. So he was a narrow-minded prick too. Two brows were brought together quizzically, matching the male’s obvious vexation if only for a moment. Her maw parted almost immediately, with every intention of countering his haughty attitude with a verbal comeback. But nothing came. Whatever words had been meant for him died down in the pit of her throat, swallowed by the sudden pang in her head.

Crystal blue irises remained on the nearly frozen flesh being disembowelled right in front of her, keeping her expression as stoic as possible until the pain became too much to bear. Eyelids shut, morphing into the thinnest line they could have possibly formed. Her right hand pressed against the corresponding temple, conjuring a barely audible whine. The Azathoth descendant recoiled instinctively, contributing to the greater distance now separating them. Then everything stopped. Silence reigned for a moment before she heard it: a whisper, her name, a voice she’d never heard before. For a fleeting second, her sire’s vibrant blue seemed to overshadow the hint of turquoise in her eyes. And once everything passed, a display of sheer animosity lingered on her face. Whatever had just happened, it was his fault. She suddenly didn’t like him either and she wasn’t going anywhere.


table by the Mentors!

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#6
sswm 733
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She should never have come to this place. The blonde prince of broken things didn’t know who she was or where she had come from, but what he knew was that she should be here, but the merry fire, at this moment. It wasn’t fear that brought the strange sense of urgency to his thought, but terrible anticipation. He was a creature that could have taken his seat with calm and watched an apocalypse destroy the earth before him without feeling alarmed. But there was a rare, bitter and wrong feeling blooming at the very back of his tongue. The foolish woman believed he was alone with his fire, but she was wrong, and now a merciless presence was rising up behind him. Again, the red eyed man refused to allow a shudder to pass through his body. It was only when the spirit was close that cold had the ability to chill his bones.

Once, he had thought himself truly mad. But the voice had spoken of things he couldn’t possibly have known, and spoke of memories of a time before he had been born. He had watched as the invisible creature had attacked the earthen shaded man. He had watched an innocent male die and with silent horror seen evil be born anew. But relief had been the prominent sensation back then, and he hadn’t allowed the memory to give birth to dark nightmares. The Lykoi prince had thought that to be the end of it all. The dead had risen from his bed and moved away without hesitation, and he had believed the ghost to have left his life forever, when he had found the way to enter through an unsuspecting man’s flesh and rip the soul away from its mortal vessel.

But the body had died and the voice had returned to bring terror to his day. It wasn’t unbearable to be haunted by his ancestor’s spirit, but with the strange jump of coincidence or fate (whichever he decided to believe in), someone had re-entered his life and taught him what he imagined fear to feel like. Although bound by greed like every other creature, he didn’t fear for his own well-being as he did China’s. But words of threat had yet to come, and the monster had been dormant for some time. But Itachi recognized the characteristic chill the unholy presence brought with its approach.

Clenching teeth brought wary hues to cling to her face and the change he saw there. Her jaw hung open with the intention to speak, but she was frozen in place, and caused the man’s golden audits to lean back towards the rise of his fur. Blind agony was plain on her face, and the golden man rose on stoic feet, though every tap of his pulse left echoes in their wake. His wolfish muzzle crinkled as she recoiled from him. But as she opened her eyes to return her insolent stare to his form, he understood. He recognized the intense blue colour in her eyes, though he knew for certain that he’d never seen it before. But memories—not his—had shown him an image, blurred and moving like the disturbed reflection in a stagnant pond.

The expression within her hues did not affect him. But he was most uncomfortable, and would have walked away from fire and rabbits without a word if it was within his power to do so. She too might have appreciated that, but Itachi knew that he was expected to stay. The stakes had risen and the tables had turned. He wasn’t ready, but he didn’t have the privilege to choose. He sat down with the dead animal once again, and once skin and bowels had been removed, the man reached his hand towards her, the free meat slick and bloody in his hand. It was a peace offering, if that was what she required. ”My name is Itachi,” he let her know, eyes wary of displaying the nature of the thoughts crowding his working mind. ”I would be pleased if you would tell me yours.” Even though he already knew. It wasn’t in his nature to smile, and so he didn’t. This company was forced, and he would have to endure.


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Table by Hilli
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#7
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these two are messed up, brah.

Word Count → 656

A pounding beat and frenzied cacophony followed the unwanted occupancy of her mind, reverberating profoundly throughout her entire body and soul. She could not fathom nor understand the reasons why it had happened here and now, in the presence of a perfect stranger who could have taken her life in the midst of her momentary crippling ailment. Life worked in unpredictable ways, this being the perfect proof to sustain such a bold statement. Her cage had been rattled in more ways than one, causing the slight trembling of her limbs and a surreal feeling to overcome her. She couldn’t have explained it even if she’d tried: the numbness brought forth by the silent aftermath, the sheer disorientation intertwined with fury viable in her Mediterranean eyes and the sudden urge to heave right then and there. Not knowing what to do or think was possibly the worst feeling she’d ever encountered thus far.

If there’s one thing the male understood, it was silence. It was noticeable from how little he had spoken thus far along with his blatant resentment of strangers. He lived a life of desolation in which he found peace of mind, or so she assumed. Why his pelt was so heavily permeated by the scent of others was a mystery, one she would more than likely never resolve. Perhaps it was for the advantages he could not obtain as a loner; needed protection from a group in particular or to benefit from a friend’s company. How he could have obtained a companion with such an attitude, she was unsure of. But then again, he wasn’t “your average joe”, was he? Her dam had always preferred seclusion and yet she’d served two or three packs in her lifetime, post-Azathoth of course. Maybe his story was a similar one.

Then everything changed. He spoke before she even considered doing so herself, balancing his sudden change of heart with a conciliatory and highly unexpected gift. Still panting lightly from the ordeal she’d just experienced, Lilin grudgingly removed her wolf-hands from the side of her head as if doing so would consequently trigger another episode. The expression on her face had become solemn, somewhat reflecting his. While hers was dotted with a hint of fear and stupefaction, his held something much more staggering. It was recognition she saw, veiling those sanguine eyes of their usual intent. Recognition of what exactly? Had they met before? This she highly doubted, putting an immeasurable amount of faith in her own memory. Itachi. The name wasn’t familiar either.

She nearly refused the offering, still visibly shaken by the sudden affliction to have befallen her. It was still his fault. Her hunger suggested otherwise though and her body, as if governed by something else than her own mind, reached for the fresh meat dangling like a treat before her. There was nothing delicate about the way she yanked it from his hands, back pedaling as soon as the prize was securely within her grasp. It was feral instinct that overtook her actions; the way she boldly sunk her incisors into her meal and tore through it with evident need. She never once took her gaze away from his; as if afraid he would step forth and take it away. Introductions were purposely delayed. She was clearly apprehending the fact that it would please him to know her identity.

It was almost as if the roles had been reversed. He was willing to talk and she, on the other hand, was too obstinate to collaborate with the man who had somehow caused her pain. On the flip side, he had indeed relinquished his prized kill. This had earned him a considerable amount of brownie points, enough for her to speak. Stopping mid-bite, the juvenile offered her name in exchange for an explanation. “Lilin,” she murmured, pausing to scan his face for any understanding of what her name meant in demonology. “Have we met before?”


table by the Mentors!

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#8
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The blonde didn’t think twice about the savage way she ripped the fresh rabbit meat from his offering hand and crawled away to a fictive corner like the imprisoned lion in his cage. Itachi didn’t find it outrageous that chances had tossed the two of them together, this cold night. He carried the blood of several prominent families, and there were relatives to be found in every part of ‘Souls. However, it was less common to run into a daughter of Haku Soul. It was as if it was a part of some twisted plan that he had never been informed about.

Lilin. So it was true then. He wasn’t as insane that he had suspected he was. The Lykoi was not grateful to discover this. It was unnerving to know that they both had been touched by cold fingers that belonged in an unmarked grave. The female’s age didn’t differ much from his, but Itachi alone was not able to guess who the dame might be. He had learned much and more about his grandsire, and knew that there could be tumorous offspring everywhere, corrupting the place in their own, individual ways. He supposed that he was one of them, even if it was Conor that was the monster’s son. The infection ran deep and strong.

He was unaware of long dead demonologies funded by humans, and did not know that there was meaning behind her name. ”We have not,” he established, for the two of them had never laid eyes on each other. He resented this meeting, but this fact was completely hidden behind his apparent apathy. He was a silent spectator and didn’t allow feelings to run shallowly under his skin and reflect in his red audits. He faintly approved of her vicious treatment of the dead flesh though. The Family was picky and extravagant when it came to their meals, but Itachi was known to prefer his meals fresh, as raw and bloody as they came.

”Would you please tell me about yourself?” he asked, politely with lowered eyes. The second rabbit was now methodically losing its skin the same way as its dead companion. If she decided that one rabbit wouldn’t cut it, there would be more, though it was obligatory for him too to claim a piece for himself. The man was lean and slender by appearance, not only because of the hybrid blood flowing in his veins, but because he scarcely ate more than what his body required. But the scent of dead, coagulated blood was well detectable in the air. Though it was not as appetizing as fresh, hot blood with a beating pulse, it was enough to inflict shallow ache of hunger behind his ribs.


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Table by Hilli
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#9
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OOC ENDING: Itachi and Lilin were awkward and talked some more and he left her alone with the food and the campfire.

Word Count → 347

It was all too far beyond her knowledge. Someone had unlocked the door to the dank cage where she'd lived her life in blissful ignorance, until this very day. This proclaimed New World was infact ancient, withholding secrets about her lineage: hidden family crimes, a past unimaginable even for her. What she'd inadvertently gotten into, she couldn't possibly know for sure. Even if this encounter was a preview of what lay ahead, classifying it as positive or negative wasn't something that could not be done at this point in time. Descendants of the Soul, Lykoi and De Le Poer families meant nothing to her. In another life, perhaps the names would have induced a reaction out of her, seeing as they all had contributed to her dynasty one way or another. Through effort and research, this lack of information could be salvaged.

But at that very moment, when the male's answer rang clear, the loner responded with the only thing she could come up with: a nod, the kind of nod given when unable to provide a person with an appropriate answer or proper acknowledgement. So they hadn't met each other before. It only confirmed her previous assumption, in spite of the recognition she thought she'd seen in his sanguine irises. She did not know who this Itachi was nor what kind of person he was, although she already had a vague idea based upon this encounter. His next inquiry was perplexing in itself. Once again, the two-toned femme paused mid-bite. Bewilderment overshadowed her facial expression as she pondered the meaning of the hybrid's charade. What information did he seek exactly? Clearly, he wasn't looking for her life's story and he wasn't just being polite either.

“What do you want to know?” Her question would've sounded innocent enough if not for the underlying mefiance behind her words. She was the new girl, but she certainly wasn't daft enough to roll with his sudden change of attitude without probing his intentions. She'd worded it differently but her wariness weighed heavily on her own inquiry. Why did he care?


table by the Mentors!

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