[M] Water or wine? Don't make me choose

Aniki!

POSTED: Thu Feb 01, 2018 12:20 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


Location is unspecified since this is Non-Canon though it could be in Amherst if you want.
Optime | Night | Sometime | Some bar in some city
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NPCs: Azrail
742

Two shapes moved through the city streets, their movements quiet. A small female, obviously of coyote and jackal descent linked her arm with a much taller, dark-colored male. The woman was beautiful by most standards with her sharp features from her mixed blood and her elegant body. She had long ears that poked out from her long, thick white hair that went down to her elbows. Her body was hourglass-shaped body. Her clothing showed off her curves and body, a short crop top that had mesh to show off her chest was worn with a black and tan high-low skirt. She also had a silver serpent bracelet and a ruby necklace. Her clothing also showed off black marks all over her body. Under the mesh were three runes and her arms were covered in them. They were also on her stomach and only the ones on her back and most of the ones on her thighs were hidden from sight. Her bushy tail swayed behind her and her magenta eyes had a glint in them. She had a whip tied like a belt around her waist.

The man walking beside her was much taller than she was. He had dark fur with a bluish tint. He was wolf-sized, yet had coyote features. His ears were long and his face was narrow. A silver-tipped bushy tail was held still as he walked, silent as ever. Blue eyes took in the world, scanning for threats and analyzing. He was also marked with runes like his sister, though his were hidden by his clothing except for the ones on his neck and wrists which were light-colored, unlike the dark ones his sister wore. His clothing was black and blue with a pair of fingerless gloves. His hair was short and some of his hair curled in front of his face. He was lean and long-legged and looked strong due to his training. He seemed to have a permanent resting bitch face and was armed with a bow and a quiver full of arrows.

The Colt siblings wanted information on this new land they had entered and what was a better place to get information than a bar? Alcohol loosened people's tongues and good looks could get you places as well. Seraphina had dressed in one of her favored outfits that didn't hide much, including her runes. She wasn't in danger anymore, she didn't have to fear the Camora recognizing the marks she wore and trying to kill her. She was also free to do as she pleased, pursue pleasure instead of operating under orders and rules. Albeit, this was kind of like a mission, she was free to do as she pleased once she had gotten the information instead of reporting back to the Court. The angel-blooded woman smiled as she saw the bar.

Azrail was not fully on board, as always. He was here in case his sister needed backup, though she never did. He would admit that it was weird to go out when not under orders and not having to look over his back every time for any Camora members. He had always been a stickler for rules, always the good soldier. Freedom from the Court was still foreign to him, but it was relieving not to have to go back and face his parents. He didn't have much of an idea what to do with this newfound freedom, though getting a drink sounded like the best thing. The dark-colored warrior still hadn't considered he other freedoms he had.

Relax, hermano. The banshee said as their pace quickened. Her dear sibling had always been rather stiff and she wanted to see him happy for once. He had always been the responsible one, he carried the Colt family name on his shoulders. But, it had all fallen apart when he had backed out of an arranged marriage because while the woman was understanding and respected his decision, his parents had been outraged. And then the white-haired coyjackal and the midnight male were both disappointments.

The pair both entered the bar. The shadow-washed warrior sat down at a corner seat, out of the way yet had a good vantage point of the bar. His sister went to sit down at the bar counter and ordered a glass of mead. She waited for anyone to sit near her and fall for her charms. For the temptress was skilled at the art of manipulation and seduction.

God save the prom queen
Teenage daydream
Just another dressed up heartbreak
Turned her tears to diamonds in her crown

Silverfrost

POSTED: Thu Feb 08, 2018 2:28 am

Word Count → 1110
Gives you a bit of a peek to what Aniki's life might have been like if her family hadn't been massacred.

Aniki loped into the bar, a determined look on her face. She was on her first solo mission. Her pack had been paid to kill Herr Rydel von Blutmond, a vicious man with a vicious pack. His crimes were kidnapping, first and second-degree murder, rape, and basically every immoral crime you could think of. She felt sickened by him but knew that soon enough she would be considered a murderer as well. She had spent the past week watching him and getting used to his movements and mannerisms. Now she was ready. Every night he would stumble over to the bar after a long day of stalking his next victim. Her employer. Luckily, she was better at gathering information than him. By now she knew that he stood at 6'3'', an average height for a wolf, weighed about 200 pounds, has three brothers and four sisters, his mother is dead, and his father ruled the clan with an iron fist. Of course, these were all things that could be found out very easily.

But she also knew that he had two pups that he himself did not know he had. They were the product of his victim, an employer had asked for revenge on one woman, he had carried out that revenge, then left her on the stone-cold floor. Aniki had found that out fairly easily as well, just last week she had passed through the village the woman stayed at and heard of what had happened at a bar. Bars were her favorite place to get information. Her family had a wide network of information, and they were beginning to acknowledge her as a member of Juniper's family. Just a few weeks ago, her mother had had a talk with all of them about their roles in the family business. Aniki was elected to be the assassin because of her weapon of choice and distinct aptitude for fighting.

And now she was stalking Herr Rydel, learning everything she could before taking him out. She walked about fifty feet behind him, casually smoking a cigarette. She didn't smoke, but most of the Luperci in the area did and sticking out was the last thing you wanted to do as an assassin. She wore her usual get-up when she was out on a job, a dark brown leather jacket that reached her mid-thighs and a pair of loose pants that hid the knife braces on her legs. She only glanced at Herr Rydel out of the corner of her eye a few times, she already knew where he was headed. Right to the Wolfmead bar. She almost felt bad for the canines there right now. They were about to witness a first-degree murder. Carefully planned out and executed.

She spent most of the time on her walk to the bar looking to the stars, halting every once and a while to lean against a wall and take a single long drag of the cigarette. The smoke burned her lungs, but she was careful not to show anyone that she felt the pain, making sure that anybody who looked at her would take her for an experienced smoker. After all, that was part of her persona. But then she would get up and walk to the bar at a leisurely pace, looking for all the world like someone who had had a long day at work and needed a drink. Despite her lazy, tired image, her mind was sharp, going through everything she would need and working to check off every possible outcome.

Then she reached the bar and, without hesitation, pushed the door in and walked inside. She glanced around and saw the black wolf sitting in the corner of the bar, but then allowed her eyes to rove over him as if she were still searching for someone. Then she shrugged and walked to the bar, ordering two drinks. She held up two freshly-caught, plump rabbits as an exchange. Soon enough she had a drink in each hand and was walking closer to Herr Rydel, looking around as if she wanted to hang out with someone. Her eyes locked on her target's own and she smiled pleasantly before walking closer to him. She dropped a drink in front of him and soon enough they were engaging in pleasant small-talk. His hand reached under the table and landed on her knee, rubbing it. She suppressed the urge to shudder and scooted closer to him, almost on his lap in response. He grinned triumphantly and grabbed either side of her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She reached up and grabbed her thinnest knife.

She unsheathed it silently and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. The blade glinted in the lamplight and he glanced over at the blade instinctively. That was her cue. She plunged the knife into his neck. Blood spurted everywhere, all over her hand and arm. The damn idiot fell to the ground, grabbing his neck and gurgling frantically. Other canines sitting near them leaped to their feet, scrambling away and yelling. Within a minute he had bled out. Aniki stood up slowly and shook blood off her hand and arm, looking at the Luperci who had been hired to guard the bar cooly.

They had run towards her, but one look at her eyes and they stopped. On the outside, she looked hostile and dangerous. On the inside, she was grieving for her first victim. It was irrational, she knew, but for some reason, she had forgotten all the crimes he had done and instead looked at him as a wolf who had once been alive. Once been breathing. She took a large knife and cut off his ear for evidence. It was partly chewed off and heavily scarred. It would serve as proof. Then she cut off his testicles and put them in his right hand. She opened her belt pouch and pulled out a single red agate on his chest, rearranging his hands and arms so that he held the agate in his empty left hand.

Then she got up and pulled a cigarette out of her pocket, opened the oil lamp's glass case, and lit the cigarette with the fire from the candle. She took a short puff and walked outside, breathing in the fresh air gratefully. It was free of the scent of alcohol, blood, and sweat. And death. Especially death. She leaned against the building and took a break, thinking of the ear in her belt pouch and the man she had left dead in a puddle of his own blood.

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Bones

Non-Canon