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Intoxication was a beautiful thing, worn oh-so-elegantly by the masked man. The demons came out when his eyes were clouded—moreso than usual anyway—and he smirked over his glass, watching the shadows as they sought his flesh. They desired his blood, longing to drag him back into the depths of Sheol and tear him apart endlessly for the rest of Eternity, laughing and shrieking as he suffered a fate worse than simple Death. But the Prince of Fear was a heir of Hell itself and they could do nothing more than long so wistfully as they eyed his beautiful form with pits for eyes, grinding teeth and bone as they slithered across the floor. Wine glass was again lifted to his lips, the crimson liquid within catching the dim candlelight and gleaming like a bloodstained ruby. Shades twisted and danced from the fire itself, born from the light of the flame and racing across the walls and behind his body, shying from the brilliance. He’d once feared the darkness and the things it held, but Samael was afraid no more. Terror intoxicated his soul no longer, for arrogance rose above all else, leaving a faint grin dusting across his lips as he drank himself into another, less coherent state.
The cloak remained about his body, draping across the arms of the chair and to the dusty wood floor below. He was seated in an elegant armchair, surroundings reflecting a creature’s soul that preferred beauty to decay. Antiques littered the expansive room of the old, Victorian-style house, candles lit and scattered across various surfaces and sconces along the walls. Crimson eyes were blurred, watching the shadows as one might something they found truly entertaining, still smiling as bony, ragged, elongated fingers stretched and reached for his throat and heart. Mad was the man and would remain so until the day of his death, but he’d healed some now, leaving instability and decay behind for elegant, beautiful, methodical destruction—as was always meant to be within the monster from the moment he’d arrived in this world. Lifting the wine bottle, he poured another glass, sipping silently within the shadowed interior of the dark hood.
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[html] http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/libri/hakuban.jpg); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> I absolutely adore your writing style <33 (300)
Haku could no longer appreciate general beauty. Instead, he found meaning and another kind of beauty in the opposite direction of what that word originally had been meant to describe. Misery and every dark and tainted that crowded around and fed off it. The Lilium of Dahlia seldom wandered this far to the south these days, in respect for the newly founded pack that thirsted for his blood. They were out of sight, but Haku knew well how they felt about him and what he had done. It was such a shame that she was protected now. It mattered less to him now than it earlier had, though. Lillith had come to him when he had needed it the most, and she fed his tainted soul with what it needed the most: blood and death hand in hand. As the optime man (for once he had abandoned his trusted secui form to walk on two legs) entered the house, following a scent of a creature he had never met, though he was acquainted with the scent, he thought of the wonderful woman that was everything he had ever desired and more.
In a room, clearly owning it with both elegance and style, sat a hooded creature. Sharp, blue eyes took in the added details in the room. It reminded the man of a scene taken out of a horror scene in a book. The man with the tainted soul could feel his hackles rise slowly, although he could feel no fear or tension enter his body. If Haku had not already paused in the open entrance of the room, he would have left the building silently and quickly, just like the unsocial creature he was. It was a loner that currently resided inside this room, and the Soul man was pleased that it was not a member of the newest 'Souls pack that he would have to silence. Chocolate coated ears folded backwards to his skull as he simply watched the oddly majestic man with his glass of dark crimson liquid. Haku had many talents, but style was not really something he mastered, nor cared to give a try. His world was all in all quite simple, only complicated slightly because of his high ranking in a pack: Paint the world red and stimulate chaos.
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[html] <33! haku's a cool kid. :]
He was alone no more. Something was walking toward the room where he was seated, entering the house and moving ever, ever closer. The shadows hissed beneath their breath, growing restless and irritated at this intrusion. Fangs bared in a vicious expression, darkness veiled his features beneath the cloak’s hood, but crimson eyes caught the candlelight and glowed like twin embers.
‘Someone.. someone’s coming.. someone disturbs..’ they whispered into his ears before he saw even saw the man.
Rising up in his seat to better see the stranger as he walked through the door, hackles lifted and a curious array of expression hidden within his soul. Blonde and black hair fell around the hellish Prince’s face, covering the scars that marred the masked face, but his muzzle protruded from the disguise, smiling in a dark, frightening manner that bode nothing save ill will.
“I was uninformed I would be having company,” Samael said in his delicate, serpentine voice as he rose from his seat. “I must apologize for my ill manners,” he continued, setting his glass down with a soft clink. Dark cloak swished around his form like his own shadow, wrapping around his body and enclosing his sleek, lightly muscled frame.
“A drink for my friend,” said the coyote, bloodlust lingering in his crimson eyes.
He pulled another glass from a case along the wall, closing the cabinet’s door and breathing carefully into the wine glass to remove any lingering contaminants. He poured the deep red wine into the dusted glass and held it out to the other creature if he wished to partake in the alcohol consumption and smiled so beautifully, so elegantly as though he didn’t wish to tear the man apart, spilling his brilliant blood on the oriental carpet below their feet.
“Now might I ask this man’s name?” he inquired in a soft tone, gesturing toward another chair before seating himself back in his own.
‘He smells.. like blood,’ they hissed, laughing violently.
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[html] http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/libri/hakuban.jpg); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> (300)
The blue eyed man stood dead still and watched the elegant stranger move, his face was still hidden in the shadow of the hood. The last time Haku had played along with such play had been in a bar with a certain Lysander that he never had seen again. Those intense blue orbs were cold and calculating, but he was intoxicated with the stylish first impression. Chocolate brown ears folded backwards in slow motion. His lips, however, formed a wicked smile as he received a glass with crimson liquid. Very well played out. The Dahlian wolf gave a stiff, formal bow, offering his respect to the kind lord. Could madmen look through each other’s masks? The demon’s eyes left the hooded creature to gaze at that red liquid in the glass he was holding. A salmon tongue flickered out to lightly brush against lips. This was a glass with an expensive red wine, the scent revealed that much. Haku, however, wished for a more metallic odour and a thicker brand of wine. Wines such as this that had been offered was more commonly drunk than his preferences. Such a shame.
This clearly was a loner. There would be no responsibilities, no angry mobs to arrive crying in anger in the middle of the night with their torches. If the Lilium of Dahlia was not completely wrong, there were also coyote features hidden within the cape. Memories of the man with the surname Nothing reached out after his mind, but Haku would not allow such a thing to re-enter after it was dead and buried. Haku was offered a seat and a name was requested. Oh, but Haku did not want to play along today. He remained on that same spot. Slowly, very slowly, the glass rose to those lips that would never taste such valuable red water ever again. Lightly hued fingers fled from the glass and let go, let the glass fall and liquid spill out and create a crimson spot on the expensive looking carpet under his feet. Eyes stayed on the loner in the chair and Haku Soul smiled no more.
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The game was already over before it’d really begun and along with it a form of casual foreplay to the coyote. The glass Samael had offered to him slipped purposely from his grasp after he’d played along so briefly, shattering on the expensive carpet and spilling blood-red wine in an angry stain. Smirk continued to grace the madman’s lips, draining his goblet and lowering it to the table beside him as he’d done moments before. The smile was gone from the stranger’s face, unwilling to participate in Samael’s little play any longer. “That was very expensive wine,” said the Lykoi prince to the stranger. Coolness filled his voice, though true value for human possessions was false to the gold and black animal. Suddenly, in a movement quick as a viper’s strike he snatched the bottle from the tabletop and threw it violently against the wall, shattering the glass and spilling sanguine liquor everywhere. “Is this what my hospitality means to you?” inquired the Prince in mock anger, game not yet lost on the elegant monster.
“Ungrateful little house guest! How will I ever remove that stain from my carpet?!” he shrieked in false concern, rising to his feet and now hurling his own goblet toward the cabinet, filling the room with the echoing shatter of breaking glass. “Now look at what you’ve made me do!” he nearly whined, utterly amused with the throes of the fakest temper tantrum he’d ever experienced. Whirling on his feet, he turned toward the stranger, striding determinedly toward the man. Within a few feet he lifted his clawed hand to strike him across the face, baring his teeth in a truly violent expression. “I should kill you,” he hissed softly, breathing violence and bloodlust for this unknown man who refused to share his name and play along, humoring the hellish little prince.
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[html] http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/libri/hakuban.jpg); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> (300) So sorry for the wait  Also, I read it as if Sammie only lifted his hand as if to strike, but did not really do so. Poke me if I'm stupid and wrong.
He did not get any of the reactions he had expected. The Dahlian man merely flickered an ear as if in thought when the bottle of the Sir’s expensive wine suddenly spun through the air and found its equal in the wall, shattering and staining the area around with pieces of twinkling glass and blood-red liquid. The shockwave sent an explosion of that uncomfortable scent of wine. Haku had enjoyed alcohol once upon a time. Still did from time to time, but his taste buds were dying and together with that the need for inquisitive tastes. Haku suffered from mild insanity, and did not have much need for substances altering the world. Alcohol was a waste of time. Drugs had not been experienced with yet. Haku Soul felt the urge to laugh at the scene in front of him. The coyote going into a rage because of the wasted wine (though it was he that had thrown away half a bottle, surpassing Haku’s modest glass).
Despite the amusement, nothing changed, and Haku’s eyes were cold like those melting icebergs in the far north, only a fragment of his own madness hinting in his eyes. So much of his true being was hidden under the surface. It took self control to refrain from lashing out when the coyote advanced and entered Haku’s personal space. Haku should be killed. Blue eyes stayed calmly on those pools filled with fresh yet tainted blood. This was a madman, one of the few true ones. The Lilium of Dahlia was still in his cocoon, attempting to figure out life’s dark secrets and become a beautiful butterfly in all his glory. This, was such a magnificent being. Such a shame that such beings were this way though, because Haku ached to gaze into the pitch black doorway and see the world of the madman. ”You could try.” Haku stepped backwards, wondering if the demon’s blood could be drained and grant him supernatural power. [/html]
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