[M] I can see your back is burning

p. Charlie | Thackery Village

POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 4:43 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.

(3+) Assumptions approved by Daniel. Izual’s coming for a little visit :o

The idea that he could have been so infatuated with a woman seemed fictional even to him. The way she killed, the way she was, the way she manipulated her words; it all drew him in. She did these things in a way that he had never fathomed to see in someone so like himself. As they walked from the border, deeper into Char’s territory, Izual tried his best to take it all in: her, the lands, the smells, the people. He would hate to accidentally kill one of Char’s own and sabotage the strange relationship they had.

”Your pack won’t have a problem with a blood-strewn coyote like me in their lands?” Izual asked, his orange eyes roved over the structures in the distance – the mountains, the little houses and cottages, a mill. His fur, always soaked with some level of blood, was exactly like that today – though, now it was drying.

By the time they reached their destination, he’d smell like the god of death – like those flowers that smelled like rotting flesh. He only knew about the carrion flower because his brother liked to read, and both of them were naturally interested in anything associated with death. Belial had his reasons, and Izual had his less practical reasons – but death was a hobby they both enjoyed and could enjoy together.

And then he left, leaving Izual to find Char to enjoy the same practices with her instead.

Izual narrowed his orange eyes in thought. It was funny how the order of things worked. Char would take the place of Belial, and Izual would forget all about his brother in time. Perhaps she would eternally replace him someday, perhaps they would become good friends. Other minds would have considered more that friends, but Izual didn't have the capacity for it. It didn't cross his mind.

"So, what is this thing you want to show me?" He quirked an ear in her direction, but otherwise taking in the scenery that crept towards them with every step.

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I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
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POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 5:59 am

OOC:

OOC here

[400+]

IC:

They were almost there now, and as they broke through the tangle, and out into the crumbling street of the village, Izual asked a question. Charletter’s hair was done up proper in a ponytail again, and it was turned sideways abruptly, and she gave him a small cackle of sorts which came off cold. Surprise, surprise. “Why, just the other day a relative of a pack leader stumbled in on one of my...messy little projects.” She said, but she left it vague just to keep him curious about what fun forms of entertainment she came up with while away from him.

“I want to show you where I live. It's quite private.” Charlie informed the man. They closed in on her house as it came up on their left; all peeling and worn in its miserable state. Her odd eyes narrowed as they approached. “Watch this,” she told him, and made a low whistle towards the abode. A bird darted out from behind the four ugly walls—straight from his birdbath in the backyard—and landed abruptly on Izual’s shoulder. He made a quick noise of disapproval, and pecked him hard a number of times in the shallow of his clavicle. “Fucking bird!” Charlie growled out in rage, lunging at the black-feathered pest with horridly-scarred, yet determined fingers. The starling immediately fled the scene, leaving his master in outrage. Then her voice quieted and became collected to form a more exact plan. “I'm going to break one of those damn wings, I'll get a fucking rock.” Then she waved it off after a brief moment of blood-infused silence, as she realized he was nowhere to be seen. “I'll hit him while he's in his bird bath.” She concluded, knowing he would go back to his favourite place. Her snout crumpled a bit at the thought of this, and her cold eyes spoke nothing of the delight she took in committing this plan to memory.

She looked to him as if to apologize, but didn't bother, knowing that manners were not necessary as neither of them cared about such ridiculous frills. Charlie walked across her front yard, went up the steps, and violently shoved over the long-unhinged door that she herself had ripped from the wall months ago. She turned and with a lackadaisical wave to the opening, she grinned wide as hell itself with her bloodied teeth. “This is my home, Izual.” She didn't have a name for him besides the one he gave her, but that's all he needed in her mind—a name—a name and a face.
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POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 6:28 am

(3+) lmfao perfect scenario

”Projects?” Izual questioned, wondering what kind of projects the woman would be working on in her home. He couldn’t imagine any form of death being described as a “project” unless it was for a specific purpose. None of his victims had a purpose other than to satiate the tension built up in his being.

As they approached a dingy little shack, Izual’s eyes fell upon Charlie as she intended to show him something, and not the house. His home – a room in the D’Neville Mansion – was nothing really to boast about either. It was a dusty room with debris in its corners, a creaky wooden floor, and a pile of furs where he slept. There was nothing else there to show off as a token of pride or otherwise.

As Charlie told him to watch, Izual froze in place outside of the house. A small black and white bird fluttered from the back of the house somewhere and immediately landed on his shoulder. ”What a frien—“ he was about to say before the pesky little shit began drilling into his shoulder like a woodpecker. Izual took the bird and threw it into the air, and when it came back for more, he attempted to wholeheartedly smack it to the ground, but missed every time and it was gone before he could properly get angry. With a dull pain in his shoulder and an angry, flustered expression, Izual glared into the direction that the bird disappeared. The words that Charlie spewed missed him entirely as he, too, thought of five ways he could murder the damn thing without Charlie intervening.

”I hold my opinion strong: birds are better off as fucking food,” he murmured and followed the Anatheman into her home.

With a lingering sour expression, his eyes drank in the shabby interior of her home, but one thing in particular caught his attention and took him entirely away from his bad experience with her pet not just thirty seconds prior. ”What is that lovely smell?” It smelled like a bit of mold and rotting flesh – the kind of scent that mingles with a body left so long that fungus has sprouted mushrooms upon and through it.

Image © Mirella Santana
I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
Loners
DEAD
User avatar
Sammiie
Luperci
LET OUT THE BEAST

POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 7:50 am

OOC:

Sad stuff isn't sad xD

[300+]

IC:

“Soon you'll see.”
is all she said on the matter.

Inside the house, the fragments in the kitchen had become putrid, and Izual became excited. Charlie leered down the blood-marked hall, and simply plumed with delight, summing it all up as “My project.” Though her voice crawled phlegmatically despite her pride.

Her unnatural gait was no prisoner among these walls, and it fumbled about as the maniac touched the bloodied marks with both hands outreached on either side. She did this pensively as she strode down the hall, like all the connection she needed was stained into cracked plaster—not in the next room, or even behind her.

They entered the square sliver of space that had once been called a kitchen. A table was in the middle, and the pieces that sat festering on top were cut so meticulously; like a craft or painting that had been line-drawn previously before the final strokes were laid out permanently. She came to the table quietly, straight as a board, and only her neck gave way for her eyes to pour over her first attempt at something truly special. “This is Dean,” the Leishman explained, “I slit his throat the other day and brought him here. I need to get rid of him - I - I ruined him with a bad cut…” Then she trailed off, obviously upset with herself after all the hard work. Now her masterpiece sat here, wasting away when it could've been up high for all the world to see. Then the girl looked away. “Fuck,” she cursed through gritted teeth, “let's go.” One day, she would perfect this newfound art of her’s, and display the proportions up high in a tree, and she would put herself out there. She wanted everyone to know she was around, and that she wasn't afraid of taking life. Charlie wanted to be in the spotlight once again, because her parents never looked at her—not even long enough to love her.
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POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 8:14 am

(3+) ooc text here

Izual’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store upon finding the festering corpse – in pieces – on the kitchen table. Like his fur, there were small rivers of dried blood that stained the table legs and floor, and they were smeared in some places of frequent movement. Char introduced the corpse as Dean, but it would seem that not much was left of Dean now. His innards weren’t splattered all over the kitchen, dragged along the floor as if a part of a biological rope, nor was his throat ripped out in such a way that one could see his spine. Char’s style was neat, clean, and precise, and from where Izual was standing, everything looked well-planned, well-measured, and well-cut.

”Hah, this looks like the work of my brother…” He approached the table, trailing a claw over a dismembered arm, breaking away the clots of blood stuck in the fur. He thought of the few times he accompanied Belial to his secret home in Halifax. He thought of the times in the basement where they drained blood from unwilling victims, spattered the floor with it, and did as they wished with the warm bodies. ”How’d you get the cuts so clean?” he asked, genuinely curious. He preferred chaos, blood spatter, and gore in his mouth… but Char’s style was different. It intrigued him.

She seemed disgusted with something, and urged him to follow her, to leave her project so quickly – but he ignored her. ”So deliberate… so articulate. You kill with a purpose, like Belial.” He turned, facing Charlie, and licked one of the blood chunks stuck to his claws. He took it in and gnashed it between his teeth. The rotted blood was sour, but the taste made no difference to Izual. He once almost ate a brain that was infected with rabies. Eating a rotting corpse would make no difference.

”How you getting rid of Dean?”

Image © Mirella Santana
I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
Loners
DEAD
User avatar
Sammiie
Luperci
LET OUT THE BEAST

POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 9:02 am

OOC:

Awww :'3

[500+]

IC:

She was still standing over the pieces when he mentioned that it looked as though his brother had done the job. Something in her just snapped, and it was apparent in the way her mouth wrenched itself tight as if she were biting something still trapped inside. Her eyes went sharp and hot like two white wisps of flame. “This is my work!” She exploded with assurance, glaring at him quite madly, but then this look of anger subsided. What was left of her eyes was—once again—distant glass. “Never...never mind.” Then she kissed him briefly on the shoulder, as if to ease him into forgiveness, but she didn't really understand it either.

The cuts were clean, they were absolutely perfect, except for the one cut on the upper left arm that was a fraction of a centimeter out of place. “Oh,” she said, remembering something. The girl strode from the room quickly, and came back with a very pristine-looking metal tool. Not a spec of red was to be seen. “Sorry, I hide it under the couch. It's a bone saw.” Charletter explained with pride, extending the object out to him so he could examine it for himself.

When Izual saw all these things; her beloved little world that was comparable to peering into an intimate diary, he came to a conclusion. “Purpose…” Charlie said, eyes suddenly narrowed on the opposite wall where one dot of blood had escaped her surgical care. She stepped over, and rubbed it with a thumb and it flaked off. “I don't need purpose, I just need…” Then she lost her train of thought, of course she'd probably never had the tracks to begin with. “I don't care.” She finally quipped with a sly grin as she turned away from the wall. Then her expression changed back to black tundra, rigid and still as she walked to the back door promptly and stared out the window, squinting. “There's a nice spot, right over by that berry bush, I just need to acquire a shovel.” The Leishman told him quietly. “But,” she began, clasping her grotesque hands together, “other than this fiasco, I have a wonderful collection of things you might find interesting.”

At this, she left the room, went halfway down the hall, and took a right into a dark, dingy room. Only one measly window allowed light to filter in through its dusty screen and smudged panes. But the shelves all around the edges of the small room were completely cluttered with a plethora of random junk and salvage. The most eye-catching thing about the room, however, might have been the grand assembly of blades that sat gleaming menacingly on the shelf to the left. Her favourite was the machete she found resting in a glass box inside a sporting goods place in Halifax, and her eyes went to it now. Though, she might not ever use it, as it was too large and uncontrollable for her liking. She truly adored the medium serrated ones that could both cut and slip in between the ribcage, as it was a guileful craft all in it's own.

Charlie snatched the long blade up from its pre-determined place, and checked her blurry reflection in it's flat surface. Her eyes went to her partner. “I want you to have this. It's the most menacing blade I've ever seen, and I think it should be you who gets to use it.” Then her emotionless voice stopped, and that was that.
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POSTED: Sun May 14, 2017 10:10 am

(4+) ooc text here

His comparison was met with an innocent rage that made him smile. Although Char became reserved rather quickly, offering him a soft apology in the form of a kiss, Izual watched her with intrigue. ”Of course it is… Belial’s was more… ritualistic. Belial did his for the blood and the sacrifice. It was meaningful in a way that it isn’t for us.” He had said it without really meaning to say that their murders were for nothing – nothing beautiful or for a purpose other than shedding blood on the old tile floors or watering the greedy roots in the forest with the crimson life force of mammals.

What he was presented with next brought a new kind of smile to his face. A pristine weapon was pulled from underneath the couch and placed into his greedy claws. A saw of some sort – she called it a bone saw, and Izual could only guess why. Looking down at the serrated teeth of the saw and then over towards the clean-cut edges of Dean’s limbs, Izual understood the tool’s purpose. He had no need for something like this, however.

As Charlie walked out of the room, Izual followed and upon passing the old couch in the living room, he slid the tool back under to its resting place. He followed Charlie down the small, cramped hallway of her home to a dark room that had stuff piled high on its shelves. It might have been a pack rat’s dream to be in a room with so much clutter, but to Izual most of it was materialistic items that he didn’t care about.

Charlie left him at the doorway and went straight for one of the shelves that held an array of blades – something that, once again, he rarely used. However, he was intrigued to find that she returned to his side with a rather long, menacing blade that he imagined burying into someone’s bowels.

Izual’s eyes sparkled as he took the weapon. ”A menacing blade for a menacing killer.” He did not say thank you, but the look he offered her afterwards would have sufficed. There was genuine appreciation that reflected back at her within his orange gaze. No one had ever given Izual a gift before, and he wasn’t sure what to do next.

”Where’d you get all this stuff?” With his new blade in his hand, he came into the room and let his eyes wander.

Image © Mirella Santana
I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
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DEAD
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LET OUT THE BEAST

POSTED: Mon May 15, 2017 12:11 am

OOC:

OOC here

[300+]

IC:

When he compared himself to his new weapon, Charlie searched him with her distant eyes before saying, “I agree.” Then he dipped further into the waters of her private realm, asking where she had acquired all of these things. At first she couldn't help but feel threatened by the intrusion into her stash room, but her mind was eased after thinking about how enjoyable it was to simply be around Izual. This would not be a problem.

Her breathing became relaxed, and she stepped with the purpose of being his guide in the obscure world of kleptomania she'd built for herself. “Some of the most valuable items were stolen, while the random objects were mostly salvaged to help keep me in check.“ The Leishman pushed herself right up against Izual’s muscular frame, before pulling a toy car off the shelf. Her fingers busied themselves with rolling the stiff wheels and fidgeting with the operational doors before putting it back exactly where it belonged. It was obviously an excuse to come closer. “As you can see, all of that which is here is organized.” Then she turned to drag her eyes across his, and they stayed longer than intended. “Ever since I was a child I adored taking things, specifically things that didn't belong to me.” The girl's empty voice dragged on with the intent to flirt. Then a long finger traced a line down his chest, but she kept her body rigid as if the whole thing was but a ploy she would not be a part of, unless of course he engaged her first. If this were to happen, she held all the power over this man—at least that's what Charlie thought. “Anything you want Massacre,” she purred, “I can take it for you.” She told him, a look of boundless lust for chaos stretching across her facial muscles and buzzing in her gray eyes.
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POSTED: Fri May 19, 2017 9:21 pm

(3+) ooc text here

Machete gift in hand, Izual followed his guide into the heavily organized room, cluttered with stuff upon shelves, tucked away and neatly stored – neat for a Wolf anyhow. His eyes scanned the items, but his gaze remained neutral and there was no sparkle to his eyes like the glimmer in Charlie’s. He did not find interest in any particular item because he was not a materialistic creature. Charlie would be able to tell that much just by seeing his living quarters in the mansion.

His eyes lingered upon the toy cars on the shelf for a moment before the black femme pushed herself against him – which snapped his gaze right back to her. He looked down at the place where their bodies touched, where her long finger trailed, and even though Izual wasn’t exactly a sexual creature, he couldn’t help but feel the excitement heightening in his loins. Charlie pulled down the car and tinkered with the wheels, the movable doors, but Izual’s eyes studied her. Her piercing gray eyes were fixated on the car, but his were on her. He longed to taste her blood.

She had offered to steal anything for him, but she was beginning to steal his heart - or part of it. Maybe it was more the intrigue and that the two murderous creatures were so much alike. Maybe Izual fell in love with that idea, rather than the actual being. Either way, being by Charlie's side set an excitement in his bones that he never knew and he didn't know what to do with.

He dipped his head and nipped a fold of her skin closest to her collar bone, and then nipped the area next to it a little harder. He followed this same pattern until he reached her throat – the area right under her chin – and snarled. Then placing the machete on a surface beside him, he tangled his claws into the back of her ponytail and pushed her mouth onto his. A growl rumbled through his chest as he kissed her roughly. One hand remained tangled in her hair, and the other hung awkwardly at his side.

Image © Mirella Santana
I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
Loners
DEAD
User avatar
Sammiie
Luperci
LET OUT THE BEAST

POSTED: Sat May 20, 2017 4:41 am

OOC:

o_O

[700+]

IC:

The young girl was starting to get used to fulfilling her desires; everything she wanted came to her with enough gumption. Izual seemed to be stricken with lust after her playful show of flirtation, and this time he closed the distance between them. A strong hand forced her onto his waiting lips. The action was aggressive, and decidedly arousing—although she wouldn't tell him that. Charletter adored the attention she was receiving, the fact that her sexuality was enough to pull him in was the most satisfying thing imaginable. It was almost a mysterious power she had over him, despite her feelings of inferiority, she had some control—not all—but some.


Then came the fun part—the hand in her hair, her mouth caving on his; causing just enough havoc to get him to follow her lead. They remained like this until she ventured a hand to his nether regions, and held on for but a moment as she pushed herself roughly into him, causing his back to hit the shelf behind him. Beloved objects teetered and dove from their perches in sacrifice, littering the floor at their battling feet. Her deviating hand was removed just like that, and her mouth was empty once more as she broke away with resistance. Charlie's brain rattled for more contact, but the thoughts she found inside were that of her deepest fears. So she found herself exit into the hall instead. Her chest was pounding, her eyes gravitating toward the bloody marks on the walls. Never before had she been so close to something so...remarkably similar. Their connection was easily felt—like rope or nails—but not as easily seen. But something inside told her it would not last long, that that feeling of belonging would crumble into the black, leaving her to suffocate alone once more. She would be abandoned, left out in the cold like her parents had done. It all hit her like a cold draft, and her placid eyes narrowed and swung about with ferocity, reeling at the cracked walls. Her back remained stiff, and her body static, but her breaths became violent all at once and a clenched fist was driven through the drywall with an immense scream. Stray chunks of white spat back into her face, and dust cluttered the hall, but her senseless eyes remained heavy and unblinking. Slowly, she retrieved her hand, and her eyes quietly acknowledged the thick blood which trickled down her knuckles and mingled with the flecks of white dust. The Leishman didn't bother to look at Izual as she brooded in her own dark crevice. How could she ever explain her feelings of absolute solitude to others, when she didn't even understand them herself? Instead, she settled on what she did understand. “My beloved Izual, you wanted to know why I kill other beings, why I enjoy it so much?” Then she did turn, her ears raised, her mouth stiff below those blank, disturbing eyes of her’s. “Because I want everyone to know who I am, and that I don't need them. I don't need anyone, and I want them to know this far more than I wish to even live.” Charlie shook her sore hand, and the beginnings of a new coat of red paint was spattered upon the walls. “I just have to...make them stop, just like...they made me stop.” She breathed, her face as unmoving as that of her own victim's.


It was decided. Her next kill would be cut up perfectly, and strung up in a tree for the rest of the world to see. It would mean everything to her, it would mean not the world itself, but much, much more. Finally they would see her suffering, reflected in the suffering of others, and they would know that the broken mind they'd pulled apart so relentlessly in their hands, was together again—and justly mangling those who destroyed her like a cruel joke. “I hate everyone, everyone but you.” Charlie stated through gritted teeth. It was the ultimate truth, the one true motivator above all; the undying hatred she had for the world that had so readily abandoned her, and tortured her like some sadistic game. She wasn't the joke now, she was the reality that resumed after the meaningless humour, and she would feed that sinister companion inside until either her, or it, died.


Then Charlie realized that she'd been glaring hard into nothing, and slackened her jaws so she could focus on the present.
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