01-18-2009, 11:24 PM
[html]just because i came to visit doesn't mean you have to hide.
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
The wolf was small and underfed, surviving on the edge of a disease that rotted it's flesh and sickened it's mind. The coyote was not much different, though his ailment was madness, fangs flashing as he tore into the creature's shoulder. He had found him all alone searching for something to eat and nibbling at the occasional spider as it scurried across the bark of a tree. Desire grew in the creature until he could contain in no more, longing for his throat and the vein that pulsed so gently within. It was almost an arousal, this desire to kill as he set his teeth on his target, ripping through his skin with a delighted noise. The wolf twisted in shock, snapping his fangs and attempting to ward off the large coyote. But he was too weak and the coyote too well practiced, moving with lightning fast motions and knowing exactly where to strike.
He screamed in horror as the coyote found his throat and buried his teeth into the hair there. The sound was horrible--a guttural, choked noise that seemed to echo off the tree trunks around them. It twisted into a trickling cough before fading into nothing. The wolf fell to the ground completely still, bleeding dark blood from its neck and eyes glassed over in death. But he wasn't finished yet. It had been a long time since the beast had eaten. And while he no longer felt the twisting pains that tore through his midsection, the being knew what he needed to do in order to continue living. Fangs parted, tearing at the wolf's flesh by his throat, ripping him apart and devouring him.
Claws resting on his shoulder, he clawed at his skin, lapping up the blood that flowed forth. He was more like a vampire than an animal, drinking the wolf's blood, further disregarding the meat and skin. And so the scene lay, with the coyote bent and crouched over the wolf he'd just killed, licking oh-so-sensually at the crimson liquid that had only moments ago pulsated through his veins when his heart had still beat.[/html]
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
The wolf was small and underfed, surviving on the edge of a disease that rotted it's flesh and sickened it's mind. The coyote was not much different, though his ailment was madness, fangs flashing as he tore into the creature's shoulder. He had found him all alone searching for something to eat and nibbling at the occasional spider as it scurried across the bark of a tree. Desire grew in the creature until he could contain in no more, longing for his throat and the vein that pulsed so gently within. It was almost an arousal, this desire to kill as he set his teeth on his target, ripping through his skin with a delighted noise. The wolf twisted in shock, snapping his fangs and attempting to ward off the large coyote. But he was too weak and the coyote too well practiced, moving with lightning fast motions and knowing exactly where to strike.
He screamed in horror as the coyote found his throat and buried his teeth into the hair there. The sound was horrible--a guttural, choked noise that seemed to echo off the tree trunks around them. It twisted into a trickling cough before fading into nothing. The wolf fell to the ground completely still, bleeding dark blood from its neck and eyes glassed over in death. But he wasn't finished yet. It had been a long time since the beast had eaten. And while he no longer felt the twisting pains that tore through his midsection, the being knew what he needed to do in order to continue living. Fangs parted, tearing at the wolf's flesh by his throat, ripping him apart and devouring him.
Claws resting on his shoulder, he clawed at his skin, lapping up the blood that flowed forth. He was more like a vampire than an animal, drinking the wolf's blood, further disregarding the meat and skin. And so the scene lay, with the coyote bent and crouched over the wolf he'd just killed, licking oh-so-sensually at the crimson liquid that had only moments ago pulsated through his veins when his heart had still beat.[/html]
01-20-2009, 01:02 AM
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The loner had been wandering across the various territories of 'Souls (what he had discovered this place was called). He had been searching to find more information about this Inferni clan. To hopefully observe the goings on between the wolves and coyotes. Such hostilities between the two species were so muddled that everyone was just pointing fingers to the other side. It was frustrating. The coyote wanted cold, hard facts. He didn't understand why more people's minds didn't function in such a way. They let their emotions and their tempers rule them. It was a way of thinking that he did not understand. Nor did he care to. Onus was pleased about the amount of trees in this particular area. When it was possible, he preferred to travel in high places, such as trees or buildings. Most times no one thought that anyone would be moving around up there, so it was easy to move around unnoticed. He acted like a shadow. Only coming out into the open when a direct action was necessary. When a scream pierced the dead air it was apparent that such a time was now. With precision and silence he moved through the tops of the trees towards the direction of the distress. Unfortunately for the wolf, he arrived moments too late. The sight that met his masked eyes was a bizarre one. The killer stood there, lapping at the blood of his victim like some horrid night walker from stories. Onus had observed many strange things in his life, but this was a new one. It was obvious that this creature was one without conscience. He had seen such before. That was all he needed to know. Launching out from his perch in the tree, he flew at the criminal, intent on colliding with his back or side.  |
01-22-2009, 12:43 AM
[html]just because i came to visit doesn't mean you have to hide.
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
There was a horrible screeching from the sky. The monster whipped around, blood and lust dripping from parted jaws. White fangs flashing, something collided with his body and the coyote flipped through the air, landing hard half on his side, half on his feet in a partial, cat-like twist. Crimson eyes burning, he snarled like a demon, glaring at the giant bat that had just swooped down on him, talons threatening murder. He jumped to his feet in a flash, lunging toward the devil-bat and his hidden eyes, veiled by a strip of pale cloth. Wings outstretched, it beckoned him, and the demon obliged, longing to tear into that bat's still beating heart. His muzzle was already stained, clicking together before spreading wide, aiming for the bat's jugular. Quick on his feet, he danced back and forth on his paws before trying to tear into the creature's flesh again and again.[/html]
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
There was a horrible screeching from the sky. The monster whipped around, blood and lust dripping from parted jaws. White fangs flashing, something collided with his body and the coyote flipped through the air, landing hard half on his side, half on his feet in a partial, cat-like twist. Crimson eyes burning, he snarled like a demon, glaring at the giant bat that had just swooped down on him, talons threatening murder. He jumped to his feet in a flash, lunging toward the devil-bat and his hidden eyes, veiled by a strip of pale cloth. Wings outstretched, it beckoned him, and the demon obliged, longing to tear into that bat's still beating heart. His muzzle was already stained, clicking together before spreading wide, aiming for the bat's jugular. Quick on his feet, he danced back and forth on his paws before trying to tear into the creature's flesh again and again.[/html]
01-22-2009, 01:18 AM
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This scum was definitely not expecting to be interrupted from his carnage. Good. Onus preferred to have the element of surprise on his hands. It worked very well in his favor. It meant that for at least the first few moments of battle the opponent's mind was frazzled while his own was cool and collected as always. After impact he stood crouched and ready. He let the crazed man bounce back and forth. As he lunged for him he stepped out of the way at the last second while reaching out with one hand in an attempt to grab the creature by the back of his neck. While still concentrated on the criminal in front of him, his mind searched the area for things that could aid him if he needed it. |
01-25-2009, 04:28 PM
[html]just because i came to visit doesn't mean you have to hide.
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
A snarl ripped through his jaws, filled with fire and smoke and sulphur. Eyes burned like twin, blood-hued embers as he sought to strike down the bat--image of the battle in his head far removed from the scene that lay in reality. Madness drove through his blood like a poison, reaching every inch of his body and ailing it like some sort of deadly sickness. He was the monster that had crawled from the depths of Hell, molten fire dripping from his lips with every breath. But the Angel had chosen him, holding him above his unholy origins and branding him as something better. Something beautiful. He had been chosen not only by Hell, but by Heaven itself. The Morning Star, the holy Seraph who resided in the Seventh ring of Heaven at God's right hand, bearing all of his Light and beauty had come to him and only him.
This little monster was nothing to him. He would tear him apart and drink his blood like the worthless creature he was. In one lunge talons grasped the back of his neck, closing in the thick fur of his ruff. The coyote twisted his head around so fast it was nothing but a blur, snapping his jaws toward the monster. Aiming for the hand that grasped him, trying to tear into the flesh of the forearm and wrist, his claws rose to slash at anything else he could reach, while writhing and twisting about the whole time, willing to tear his own skin off if it came to it.[/html]
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
A snarl ripped through his jaws, filled with fire and smoke and sulphur. Eyes burned like twin, blood-hued embers as he sought to strike down the bat--image of the battle in his head far removed from the scene that lay in reality. Madness drove through his blood like a poison, reaching every inch of his body and ailing it like some sort of deadly sickness. He was the monster that had crawled from the depths of Hell, molten fire dripping from his lips with every breath. But the Angel had chosen him, holding him above his unholy origins and branding him as something better. Something beautiful. He had been chosen not only by Hell, but by Heaven itself. The Morning Star, the holy Seraph who resided in the Seventh ring of Heaven at God's right hand, bearing all of his Light and beauty had come to him and only him.
This little monster was nothing to him. He would tear him apart and drink his blood like the worthless creature he was. In one lunge talons grasped the back of his neck, closing in the thick fur of his ruff. The coyote twisted his head around so fast it was nothing but a blur, snapping his jaws toward the monster. Aiming for the hand that grasped him, trying to tear into the flesh of the forearm and wrist, his claws rose to slash at anything else he could reach, while writhing and twisting about the whole time, willing to tear his own skin off if it came to it.[/html]
01-25-2009, 09:18 PM
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Little bit of PP at the end with the neck tugging. Let me know if you want it changed. As his goal of grasping the mad beast's neck was achieved, he dug his claws in deep to keep it that way. The coyote thrashed about, snapping at his hand and arm. Some of the bites hit, but only barely nicked his skin. Most of them only tore at the thick fabric of his trench coat, leaving his flesh more or less untouched. Effortlessly his body dodged the swipes of his enemy's claws. This vampiric wretch must be as crazy as he looked. But Onus knew better than to underestimate anyone. Especially the crazy ones. Roughly he tugged back on the scum's neck. While keeping himself steady and balanced, he moved one leg back to kick. He aimed to kick the man right square in his gut, hoping to knock the wind out of him and stun him. Any scratches that his claws would cause would only be icing on the cake. |
02-10-2009, 12:28 PM
[html]just because i came to visit doesn't mean you have to hide.
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
He was held fast, and that was not a good situation in any case. He didn't like his flesh to be touched. He didn't like to have his movements impended. Nails dug deeper into his flesh, sinking through the skin and bringing forth bright red blood. But his desperation to be free took over, and the coyote focused now on twisting and struggling, having not made much headway with tearing at the avenger's arm with teeth and claw. And it was with a sickening note that his flesh gave way, moving so much he could only rip free. But it wasn't in time to dodge the blow that came from the canine's foot, connecting with his midsection and causing him to exhale sharply as all air was exhausted from his lungs.
Again, the coyote's shoulder contacted with dirt, blood streaming freely from the wounds that had been gouged at the back of his neck. But he was quickly on his feet again, disregarding the pain the shocked through his body. He was used to pain. He adored pain, and so all this battle did was excite him. The feeling of teeth at his neck and fingers tightly grasping his throat brought him the sheerest pleasure, simply reveling in the nearness and possibility of death. Laughing in a hoarse, soft way the coyote again lunged at the Thing, jaws wide and willing to tear into his body.[/html]
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
He was held fast, and that was not a good situation in any case. He didn't like his flesh to be touched. He didn't like to have his movements impended. Nails dug deeper into his flesh, sinking through the skin and bringing forth bright red blood. But his desperation to be free took over, and the coyote focused now on twisting and struggling, having not made much headway with tearing at the avenger's arm with teeth and claw. And it was with a sickening note that his flesh gave way, moving so much he could only rip free. But it wasn't in time to dodge the blow that came from the canine's foot, connecting with his midsection and causing him to exhale sharply as all air was exhausted from his lungs.
Again, the coyote's shoulder contacted with dirt, blood streaming freely from the wounds that had been gouged at the back of his neck. But he was quickly on his feet again, disregarding the pain the shocked through his body. He was used to pain. He adored pain, and so all this battle did was excite him. The feeling of teeth at his neck and fingers tightly grasping his throat brought him the sheerest pleasure, simply reveling in the nearness and possibility of death. Laughing in a hoarse, soft way the coyote again lunged at the Thing, jaws wide and willing to tear into his body.[/html]
02-11-2009, 04:28 PM
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As blood began to flow from where his claws had ripped into the man's neck, the sweet scent filled his head. The blood-lust didn't make him a madman though, it only strengthened his resolved and fueled his actions. It meant he was accomplishing something. Even if he for whatever reason wasn't able to fulfill his main goal, the crazed coyote wouldn't get away clean. As the flesh ripped and melted away in his grasp he felt his kick connect and the enemy's air choke out of him. Whatever fur and skin was left in his hand he tossed to the side as he watched the criminal regroup. It didn't take long for it to happen either. Ah, so that was the kind of creep he was facing. Onus much more enjoyed this when he was able to strike fear into the heart of his opponent, but no matter. As the scum lunged at him again, he held his ground, crossing his arms against his chest. His mind calculated and eyes watched for just the right moment. Then quick as lightning his hands struck out and down across the canine's chest, making a large red "x". If nothing else he would mark this man. Others would be wary when they saw his scar-riddled form. Less than a second after his claws had slashed the other's chest their bodies collided and Onus rolled onto his back, attempting to hold the creature above him to make sure he couldn't get at his throat. Claws ripped at his arms and legs. As before, his arms were more or less protected by fabric, but his legs had some blood trickling down them. The vigilante attempted to position his feet under the other's abdomen in an attempt to kick him off. |
02-21-2009, 10:45 PM
[html]just because i came to visit doesn't mean you have to hide.
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
He feared the Other things. He feared the Angel just as he adored him. He feared the things the Angel inflicted on him, and feared the Darkness where his soul would be sent if he failed to attain the Angel's Light. But a mortal creature who could do nothing but part his soul from his living body? He did not fear such a mundane, insignificant thing. His soul would live on--he only feared what could damn his immortal being. Pain and the threat of death excited him--ensured he knew he was still alive. The Darkness had not yet come, and the creature was frenzied and enthralled by such a notion.
Something tore into his body when he lunged. Blood streamed from his chest, from the mark the creature had slashed into his flesh. An X, marking him as a sinner. Like Cain, who had murdered his own brother out of jealously for God's denied, biased affection had been marked by his own "Father", thus the coyote was marked by this self-proclaimed enforcer of justice. By this stranger's morals, he was a heretic, and thus must be punished for straying from another's set beliefs.
They collided, body's smashing into each other as the coyote found himself atop the other. Fangs and claws seeking yielding flesh, he lunged his head again and again toward the being's, attempting to tear him apart. But feet found their way beneath his belly, pushing against him and propelling him into the air. Claws dug trenches into the ground once his feet were again earth-bound, fur bristling like a cat thrown into the rain. A snarl tearing from his throat, again the coyote sprung forward, fangs bared in a positively demonic expression.[/html]
i'll be waiting on the side of your house,
with an empty bodybag
and a loaded forty-five.
He feared the Other things. He feared the Angel just as he adored him. He feared the things the Angel inflicted on him, and feared the Darkness where his soul would be sent if he failed to attain the Angel's Light. But a mortal creature who could do nothing but part his soul from his living body? He did not fear such a mundane, insignificant thing. His soul would live on--he only feared what could damn his immortal being. Pain and the threat of death excited him--ensured he knew he was still alive. The Darkness had not yet come, and the creature was frenzied and enthralled by such a notion.
Something tore into his body when he lunged. Blood streamed from his chest, from the mark the creature had slashed into his flesh. An X, marking him as a sinner. Like Cain, who had murdered his own brother out of jealously for God's denied, biased affection had been marked by his own "Father", thus the coyote was marked by this self-proclaimed enforcer of justice. By this stranger's morals, he was a heretic, and thus must be punished for straying from another's set beliefs.
They collided, body's smashing into each other as the coyote found himself atop the other. Fangs and claws seeking yielding flesh, he lunged his head again and again toward the being's, attempting to tear him apart. But feet found their way beneath his belly, pushing against him and propelling him into the air. Claws dug trenches into the ground once his feet were again earth-bound, fur bristling like a cat thrown into the rain. A snarl tearing from his throat, again the coyote sprung forward, fangs bared in a positively demonic expression.[/html]
02-24-2009, 01:42 AM
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Onus knew nothing of the Bible. He didn't believe in any god. Justice was his religion. Cold hard facts and reason. Religion had no place in a mind such as his. That was one thing about the humans he never understood. Why make witnesses swear on the Bible to tell the truth? What if they didn't believe in God? What if they just didn't give a damn. It wasn't as if this supposedly omnipotent being struck down those that lied under such an "oath". Pointless really. They may have been trying to do the best they could, but too many had escaped the law's reach. Too many got away. Not with him. A claw slashed a gash on the back of his wrist as he threw the demonic creature off of him. Immediately he rolled back to his feet and stood up. Silently he watched as the coyote regained his footing and balance. Blood dripped from the fingertips of his cut arm. The man didn't feel it though. He paid it no mind. He stood his ground as the other charged him again. Right before they would collide again he sidestepped and aimed to throw his elbow right between the canine's shoulder blades, putting a great deal of his weight behind it. |
02-25-2009, 08:14 AM
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Kaena had taught him everything he needed to know. And where she left off when she abandon him, the Angel had filled in. In his own right, the coyote was justified in his beliefs. From the moment he’d been born, and even probably before he had been taught to kill. To murder and maim and destroy anything that was imperfect. Wolves, mainly. Their kind stank of blood and murder and of the sins they’d committed against his kind. Kaena had taught him how to kill wolves. She had trained him well, turning him into a killing machine—a perfect monster and a perfectly blind little soldier. This one’s beliefs differed from his own, and thus he felt justified in believing that he was wrong. He would kill him for no other reason than that he’d witnessed the coyote taking the life of a complete stranger simply because he had killed. An eye for an eye, kill him right back. And that was justice. The being dodged his blow, elbowing him right between the shoulder-blades as he passed his body. A snarl erupted from his lips at this, as sharp pain splintered into life throughout his body. He landed heavily, almost losing his footing as he stumbled and whirled around, eyes alight with smoldering anger. Muzzle contorted with fury, lips curved in a mad grin, the coyote rushed yet again, simply seeking to destroy in his mechanical way. That was one way he did things-attack, attack, and attack again until he saw blood. A berserker engrossed in only bloodlust, mind shut down for the most part until he tasted liquid-life on his tongue. And here he swerved at the last moment, instead of rushing in straight-forward he twisted his path diverting his momentum before collision to strike at a different, unsuspecting angle. |
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02-26-2009, 03:23 PM
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That new table is teh secks :o So far the fight was going quite well. Nearly all his attacks had landed and he had few injuries to show for it. Just the way he liked things to go. It was easy considering how predictable this madman seemed to be. Charge and charge and charge and charge. Some might have been wearing down from the relentless onslaught by now, but not Onus. This was his life's work and he had the stamina of bear when it came to combat. It would take much more than this to tire him out. Once again the being charged him and once again the coyote was ready to avoid it at the last moment as usual. Suddenly the crazed fiend darted and aimed to hit him from the side. Damn. He hadn't been expecting that, though he probably should have. His enemy crashed into his leg and he had to work to keep his footing. Then he felt teeth sink into the flesh on his extremity. Hand darted out to grab at the creature's neck again and he pulled his other arm back, hand balling into a fist. He brought his balled fist down with as much strength as he could muster, aiming to hit the man right in the head. |