[M] Right under you, grinning in the dark

p. Charlie | Thornhill District

POSTED: Tue May 23, 2017 2:47 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.

LET OUT THE BEAST
STEP RIGHT UP AND BE A PART OF THE ACTION. GET YOUR GAME FACE ON BECAUSE IT'S TIME TO PLAY. YOU'RE PUSHING AND FIGHTING YOUR WAY. YOU'RE RIPPING IT UP.

The moonlight shone on their backs and cast a heavenly light through the cracked and broken buildings of the factory district. Halifax wasn’t somewhere he frequented anymore now that Belial had left. The only reason he had come in the first place was to join his brother at his secret home in Spring Heights and torture victims in his basement, who often happened to be females.

Izual licked his lips, casting his orange gaze to the female beside him. Charlie wasn’t someone Izual wished to torture in anyway. No, she was too valuable for that kind of thinking. She was too like him and instead almost like a murderous little daughter to him – except they weren’t related and sometimes they engaged in sexual activities. They might as well dub themselves as Lykois, too.

He had come with Charlie to look for things and trouble in the city. She was more interested in the things and he was more interested in the trouble. Izual had little interest in shiny and pretty objects. He could have yawned as he ambled along beside Charlie who seemed to be interested in all the possibilities she could find in the city.

The streets were dark and the city was quiet save for their footsteps and the echo their voices made when they spoke. The sounds jumped off of the stiff, cold stone in the night, and every time they quieted down, Izual listened and looked for something moving in the shadows. Something he could hurt.

Set in the Thornhill District // nighttime, probably midnight-ish. (000)

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

POSTED: Thu May 25, 2017 1:52 am

OOC:

OOC here

[300+]

IC:

Izual agreed to this trip at the mention of mugging any vagrants that happened to stumble across their path. While they hadn't encountered anyone yet, Charletter still hoped to fill her bag with more than just meaningless scavenge.

Beings like them, they devoured the night like a dirty little treat. It seemed that at every interval, shadows jumped at her eyes in the guise of possible victims, but she kept to raiding the streets and stark buildings which hemmed their path. They roamed like this for a while. Then, when they turned a corner, one shape proved to be out of place above the wreckage that littered the shadowy strip of district. As they approached, the girl made it out to be a massive wooden stake, rammed into the mangled hood of what was left of a car. Higher up on the pole was a small wolf skewered clean through it's stomach, dried blood everywhere, legs hanging limp as they swayed minutely in the nighttime breeze. Charlie stopped to study the peculiar sight for a moment, and realized its tongue was cut out, its bloodied mouth agape. She put a hand to her cheek. “Huh, I think I robbed him a few weeks ago...guess it wasn't his month.” She smiled softly up at the grisly display, and through her silence, ghostly eyes analyzed it all. “It's a fucking joke.” the girl chuckled out. “His face isn't right. There's too much—they should've put him up there while he was alive.” Whoever had placed him there must've been trying to send a message. To see this wolf's face forever frozen in a terrible grimace, his eyes full of fear; that would have been a sight. This however, this was a butchery, a complete waste.

With one final sneer at the impaled corpse, she hiked her bag further up onto her shoulder and stuck half her body into the doorless car. She rummaged about the trash and the sparse foliage which grew all along what was left of the floor, her tail waving crisply behind her.
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Daniel
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POSTED: Thu Jun 01, 2017 11:27 pm

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.

LET OUT THE BEAST
STEP RIGHT UP AND BE A PART OF THE ACTION. GET YOUR GAME FACE ON BECAUSE IT'S TIME TO PLAY. YOU'RE PUSHING AND FIGHTING YOUR WAY. YOU'RE RIPPING IT UP.

Izual followed along, a little bored. He did not find interest in poking through the remains of a human apocalypse. If there was no violence, no danger, he wasn’t having any of it. Numerous times he sighed as Charlie flitted through the city, digging around in piles of rubble here and there, bending over junk, plucking small trinkets from long-dead shops, and poking her body into dead contraptions.

But there was one thing that stopped him in his tracks as they moseyed deeper into the warehouse district. High up on a downed telephone pole was a wolf. His stare was blank, his body gored, and him? Dead. Very dead. Charlie scoffed at the way he had died, the way the body had hung there, but there was an enlightened smile upon Izual’s face that said he had a completely different opinion about it. She knew nothing about the precise violence this kind of action took. She could never pull anything like this off... stringing Dean's body parts all over Anathema had nothing on this.

”It’s a fucking message,” Izual echoed with an ecstatic smile upon his face. He ignored Charlie as he circled the car, taking in the corpse from every angle.

It reminded him of the kind that Belial had told him of once. The coyote found strung up in Cercatori d’Arte’s tree – with a message carved into his chest. The message hadn’t been what intrigued Izual. It was the execution. It was a vicious effort – kinda like what was impaled before his eyes – and it inspired him.

Whipping his head around, Izual could almost sense the heartbeats hidden away behind the old brick. He would find them… maybe not all, but he would damn near try. He would find them, and hang them up to send a message of his own… perhaps he should make a trail leading to Belial’s old house…

Or perhaps not.

next post Izual will wander off in search of someone he can impale :) (300+)

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

POSTED: Fri Jun 02, 2017 1:16 am

OOC:

Art-critique Charlie over here. Someone fetch her some brandy.

[300+]

IC:

After she was finished inside the car, she emerged empty-handed and took another look up at Izual’s new source of interest. Charlie of all people could appreciate death, but in her mind death was an extension of whomever created and caused it. To create something so unworthy of space in her memory, was a poor reflection of the killer responsible. “Yes, yes, a message.” The girl agreed, although there was nothing else to be seen besides what had been so hastily put on display. Despite her many criticisms, she recognized that the message was presented clear enough; Charlie would have removed the tongue as well, if only to show the significance of the wolf's silence. However, fear could be more effectively instilled within potential viewers with the grotesque sight of internal organs, most notably the entrails.

“A simple cut down the belly would have unraveled this mongrel for all to see.” Charlie explained, folding her arms absently as she leaned against the mangled frame of what used to be a car behind her. “The wounds on the body itself suggests a decisive death.” She said to no one particular. Then her eyes rolled back slightly as if calling back to it all in her head. This type of kill was typical, and that's what she hated most. The nature of the corpse was purely visual, and hadn't held any visceral connection with its creator. In addition, she could tell that it hadn't been given any intense amount of thought, and it lacked the sense of play or feel commonly seen in her own ventures. All of this was thought of as she examined the basic details within her head. She sighed audibly in disgust, and shook her head ever-so-slightly; bothered by the interest Izual had taken in this blunder of a corpse rather than her.
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Daniel
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POSTED: Sat Jun 03, 2017 4:28 pm

LET OUT THE BEAST
STEP RIGHT UP AND BE A PART OF THE ACTION. GET YOUR GAME FACE ON BECAUSE IT'S TIME TO PLAY. YOU'RE PUSHING AND FIGHTING YOUR WAY. YOU'RE RIPPING IT UP.

A large grin stretched upon the beast’s maw as he began imagining all the bodies he would find within the walls of the city and what he would do with them. How would they die? Would they struggle or fall into his claws? Would theirs be a simple or macabre death? Would it be gory?

Would the kill live up to Charlie’s standards? He scoffed, but when the sound exerted him, he had not been looking at the body, but down the street for his next victim or six. Izual did not care for creating a display. He cared only for killing, quenching his thirst for blood and kill and that was it. He was a monster that craved the blood of his own kind, and the only way to satiate that thirst was to spread the life of another all throughout the forest. Charlie spoke of messages, art, deliberation. Izual never incorporated these things into his kills… except for once – but it hadn’t even been a Wolf. Maybe Charlie would have been proud of him then, but again, Charlie’s approval was at the back of his mind.

”Have fun scavenging… I’ll just be… over here,” Izual said, gesturing down the street as he stepped away from her and moved down the block. He soon broke down a weak door and disappeared inside.

Izual wanders xD (200+)

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

POSTED: Sun Jun 04, 2017 6:14 pm

OOC:

Idek

[300+]

IC:

Izual left to wander, and the black wolf remained leaning against the remains of the automotive. Her eyes stared out into the dark confines of the street, suddenly taking to a feline that darted through the cluttered mess. She snorted, arms still held together, perhaps to ward off any feelings of doubt which threatened to work their way in. “Run little cat, hold the illusion of safety close because it's all you have.” Charletter said softly, pulling herself away from the car to find something else to entertain her.

The girl wandered into a small, overgrown parking lot that was nearby, raiding any piles of junk she saw to keep herself occupied. Her stiff movements were less deliberate, and her thought process ignored everything her hands sifted through despite her love of motley objects; all because there was a stronger obsession at work. Izual was beginning to be a necessary part of her life, not because she loved him, but because they were alike. She could have enjoyment with him like she could never have with anyone else—because they were the same. Her life held new meaning, meaning her parents never could have scrambled to point out for her. With this knowledge, losing him became that much more threatening.

Eventually she stopped what she was doing and stood up. A heavily-rusted shopping cart sat on its side in the middle of the lot. The Leishman approached it, and after some time of thought, placed it on its wheels before giving it a hard shove. The rusty articulations shrieked as the metal cart wobbled across overtaken concrete, until finally one wheel got stuck in a grassy crack in the lot. It did so with a clunk, and the whole thing flipped forward. The weakest pieces of the relic fell off, scattering flakes of rust all over the ground and into the air. She stood witness to the events she'd caused, watching intensely—yet only mildly interested like a god might watch their mortal creation. “Run little cat,” the psychopath chimed with a robotic flick of her tail, “run.”
Last edited by Charletter-Ebony Leishman on Thu Jun 08, 2017 10:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Daniel
Luperci
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POSTED: Thu Jun 08, 2017 4:37 am

[ 000 ] » loved your creepy post!

No one quite was able to visit the Thornhill District without Szenne hearing about it. Especially Anathemans. Despite escaping their retched tethers and being good and giving them back their shit, Szenne still felt like they thought she owed them something. Steadily like clockwork, an Anatheman came snooping around on her doorstep a couple times a month.

Though, it was unfair to them that Szenne thought the whole district was her doorstep.

So, when there were a couple of fools that showed up making a shitload of noise, Szenne was hot on their trails. She had left the warehouse late that night, leaving Ronan for guard duty. She knew how untrustworthy he was when guarding the warehouse at night. He fell asleep most times, and then wanderers crawled in through the broken front door and started rummaging through their shit. It made Szenne anxious to think that it could be happening right now, and they would make off with some good shit before she’d get back.

But she was set on finding out whoever kept making that horrible racket. She made good headway, being right behind whoever had done it. As she passed, she glanced up at the Luperci she’d impaled with the telephone pole the other day. His face was frozen in a half-scream/half-yell, but it was anger that lay frozen in his features as his body rotted up there, not fear.

She contemplated how difficult it would be for her to rid her turf of this vagabond. Considering that they didn’t get the message from her little buddy up on the pole, Szenne was thinking that they must have been lost, too worried about scavenging her things, or stupid. Szenne voted the latter.

Szenne’s ears twitched as she picked up a voice as she approached the stranger from behind. A surprised, yet highly-amused guffaw escaped her jaws at the site of the stranger.

It was Charlie.

”I’m sorry… but I thought I heard ya say run?” Szenne began, stepping up on the curb and walking towards Charlie. Unsheathing the dagger from her belt, the look in Szenne’s eyes said she wasn’t going to waste any time. ”I’d consider takin ya own advice if ya wanna come outta this alive...”


User avatar
Sammiie
Luperci

POSTED: Sat Jun 10, 2017 9:04 pm

OOC:

Aw, together again. We should take a picture...

[300+]

IC:

Black ears pricked skyward at the sound of an all-too familiar voice, and she spun to face her, an unmistakable grin plastered on her stark features. “Aaaah, Szenne! What a surprise!” Her distant voice exclaimed, arms wide in a joyous greeting.

Then her face went sour, arms dropping to her sides upon hearing what she had to say, before smiling once again. “See. That's where you're wrong. Life, death, bah! You still don't understand.” She scoffed, her eyes traveling along the edge of the blade that'd been drawn against her. “You never did.” Then she let out a small, pitying chuckle.

She began walking casually over to the mangled shopping cart. “Run? No, no, why would I do that?” She reached the pile of flimsy metal sticks, and placed her foot in the midst of the rusted tangle. For a moment her back was turned to the other wolf, and the mad-woman kicked the remainder of the shopping cart with a resounding sort of metallic echo similar to the rattling of cage. The pieces scattered about, scraping along the pavement, and some even skittered toward the gray wolf's feet. The Leishman turned, but this time her eyes were burning dully; like the twisted thoughts behind them. “I am not a child anymore Szenne.” The serial killer growled. A wretched hand placed itself gently upon the scar on her muzzle...the scar that Szenne had given her. Charlie's teeth grit themselves so suddenly, so intensely, that one tooth slipped and cut the inside of her cheek. With salt and metal mixing around in her mouth, she drew her own knife—her face a dark picture of vengeance—the kind that could last a lifetime. The Leishman stared at her nemesis with absolute loathe. Her mouth moved to reveal the blood and teeth within. “I kill people now, Szenne. I would love to kill you too.” Hatred, pain, unrelenting violence—it was all apparent in her solemnity. Then another remark, which seemed more like a jocular invitation that proved her emotions were never as real as they seemed: “So c’mere you wonderful bitch.” Her horrible voice scratched.
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Daniel
Luperci
THE ONE YOU FEED

POSTED: Tue Jun 13, 2017 10:25 pm

[ 000 ] » god if only I could draw xD

The reunion could have resembled any other kind of family get together where one side hated the other. Except instead of parties, it was just two Luperci. Two old enemies, separated for a time, but even then, fate brought them back together.

Not that Szenne believed in any kind of fate. Shit just happened in her eyes. Just like Charlie’s death. It would just happen.

Szenne came towards her, even as Charlie turned away from her to push and kick the mutilated shopping cart into further disrepair. The metal bars broke away from its fragile body and tinkered along the ground; one stopping just short of her cream-colored toes. Szenne briefly thought of picking it up and ramming it into Charlie’s eye, but instead she stepped over it.

”Oh, congratulations. Wouldja like a fuckin award? Some of us has been doin it much longer. Did ya see my pal Benny up on the pole? Yeah, he’s there to warn the smart Luperci away. Dumb shits like you and whoeva ya brought are the ones that die.” Szenne would give the proud wolf something to gloat about, though Szenne’s award would probably have more to do with sticking her dagger through one of Charlie’s eyes than giving the bitch a cookie for all her achievements.

”Ya ain’t gonna kill me… but ya welcome to try.” And then the two women – a ragtag bandit from the crumbling city and a psychotic Anatheman – crashed into each other like a violent wave at sea. At first, it was a flurry of fists – Szenne aimed a few for the womans face, heavy, closed-fist ones. While she did so, she watched for the girl’s knife, often jumping back, slashing at Charlie when she got too close, or ducking out of the way completely. Whenever she could, though, she got a punch or a kick in there when Charlie drew too close. Every so often, she slashed her knife towards Charlie, too, hoping to catch some flesh in its hungering blade.


User avatar
Sammiie
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Jun 14, 2017 1:32 am

OOC:

*click* This'll be a great Christmas card!

[500+]

IC:

Sure, murder was common, even with the strongest of hearts and feeblest of minds. But the twisted woman enjoyed it as if it was a carnal temptation she had to satisfy. The power she felt when she killed, the violence, it all cooled off like a sudden downpour that split through the muggy air. It all melted away until she felt refreshed, and with the resulting blood in her eyes she felt the most normal—she felt alive. Death is what Charlie lived for, in some backwards way that made sense.

The clash that ensued was inspiring to every sense. Her ears picked up the grunts they made through gritted teeth and colliding of metal, every breath expelled in the space between them. They were no longer restrained by the mutual factors they had shared in Anathema. This was the soundtrack of two individuals trying to murder each other; neither one holding back.

At first she'd been hit quite hard, but something stiff and quick that resembled a neck pulled her eyes back to their target. Her tolerance for pain was tremendous; mostly a product of her complete disregard for safety, and her immovable lack of mortal fear. The Leishman threw a few wild fists into the fray as well, hoping to strike her enemy with similar affect.

Then their weapons became the dominant articulation, and sparks flew into the black air. Clatters rang out, but behind the profound noise and chatter was the silent, murder-fueled breaths of Charlie Leishman, her eyes set like two stones in ice.

Charletter’s fighting style had changed significantly since their last encounter. She was entirely engaged and focused. Her movements were smoother, and much more deliberate—infused with the cunning control of a lunatic—yet still held that same glaring aggression that had always been there. With a glance you could tell she longed to cut flesh and draw blood, if only to hasten the other's life to a fleeting end.

Some maiming occurred as their fight went on, but this only tempered Charlie's violent rage into more white-hot focus. Rhythm was gained. The mobility of her smaller weapon was utilized. One break of the pattern that not even the psychopath fully understood herself caused her to gain a split-second opportunity. She used it to throw a hard, rising-punch into the bandit’s gut before backing off.

Her body was twitching in excitement. The girl's mouth must've been expressive, because she felt the muscles surrounding the crack in her lips being stretched. The hair she had meticulously kept was in shambles, the black locks—splayed across her eyes, cutting lines in her vision. She made a glance at the pink band that laid on the ground scuffed with dirt, no doubt kicked around during their encounter. It was a mere instrument, a tool she used to hide herself away from those too weak to see the monster that lurked. Now along with her hair, she came undone like a slipknot that loosed off the neck of a beast. But this was not without control. Her thoughts were born of psychological defect, a whisper of something much more dangerous; for she kept her wits and used them wisely in her need to kill.
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