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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Jul 18, 2007 13:30:03 GMT -5
Deciding that the castle wasn't really the best of options for Brendan right now, he walked towards his dorm room, and searched through his neat trunks for a cloak he could use in order to keep himself warm. Grabbing a cloak that his sister gave him, he uttered a small, weak smile, and clutched it tightly in his hands, before allowing his feet to drag him outside to the cold, damp hallways.
The Hallways weren't the best of places to be in, espescially at night. It wasn't just the mere fact that it is quiet, and very creepy, but first years tend to attempt and "discover" these places past curfew. Stupid little annoying brats. Running a hand through his messy black hair, he attempted to remove a few strands of hair away from his vision for him to see clearer.
As he walked down the hallway, he barely could hear his shallow breathing and his feet making contact with the solid, cold floor beneath him. He didn't like silence, for it was too suspiscious. Very, very suspiscious. Once again, he blew a strand of hair away from his gaze, as he finally reached the snowy weather outside, almost instantly greeted by a cold breath making him shudder uncontrollably.
Wrapping his cloak around himself, Brendan set off towards the streets that surrounded the stores. He wasn't planning on entering any shop, but just mere discovery. Brendan was never such a huge fan of shopping, but he always did it for his sister. Once again, the thoughts of his sister invaded his cold mind, bringing him to sigh out. He never knew why in the world would his parents send her to his Uncle, for his Uncle was never... a good person, but he didn't dare complain, mainly because his sister gave him a look stating so.
He never contradicted her in anything. Pathetic, anyone would think, but it never was to him. He pushed these thoughts away from his mind, before he dragged his feet down the unfamiliar streets, pushing away the snow that invaded his path. He could feel snowflakes resting above his head, and he shook it away, but with no use, for more snowflakes fell.
Groaning out, he wasn't really paying attention to the road, and he knew that he might bump into someone. Well, to state the truth, Brendan wasn't the low-tempered kind of guy, he was the complete contrary... very high-tempered. So really, god help whoever will come and cut his path. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Jul 18, 2007 19:24:39 GMT -5
The streets were cold and covered in snow. Every hot breath he took was turned into mist as it touched the frozen night air. The snow fell in heavy bunches, filling your view with snow for the next few feet in front of your own eyes. The silence was eerie, but almost preferred by Hannibal. He didn't like to be out alone when it was noisy. Then you couldn't hear a thing, but at night, when it was quiet there was a better chance to protect yourself for the least expected events.
He walked down the street in silence wearing a black long sleeved shirt underneath a black leather jacket. This time, he wore a jacket with sleeves unlike the one he wore during the days. The jacket was zipped up all the way, which meant up to his neck. Long dark brown hair hung loose on this chilly evening, instead of being combed back like it usually was. Black jeans fit his legs nicely and some boots kept his feet from getting cold. His dark brown eyes looked almost black on the dimly lit streets. His skin was pale and his lips had sort of a blue tinge to them.
He was hunting on the cold night, and couldn't stop until he found someone. There were only two times of the month when a half blood vampire hunts. Every 14 days, it is required, to stay healthy, that he hunt. Tonight was the night. Of all nights of course, that he would have preferred to stay in. One thing that really had always bothered Hannibal about vampires, was that a bite didn't exactly change a person into one, and everyone said that was true. It took more then just one bite, and the bite had to be in the right place. People were always assuming that there was no strategy to how a vampires feed. Another thing that bothered him was that people always assumed they had to kill their victims, or 'suck them dry' as he'd heard once before. Not all vampires kill, especially half vampires who need less blood to stay healthy. He couldn't help but think how much that all annoyed him.
Dark eyes spotted the other across the street. A smirk crossed over his features, showing off his straight white teeth, along with two longer, pointed eye teeth. Hannibal crossed the street and walked in silence, taking careful steps, but he didn't make himself look like he was walking carefully, as that would look suspicious. He didn't think the other had seen him, but just to be careful, he left a good bit of space between them and was sure to hide every once in a while. He didn't want to be seen early because there would be a big enough time where he'd probably be seen. One thing that also worried him was that if this kid went to Veneficus as well, then this little 'incident' as he liked to call them, might cause some big problems.
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Post by unfaithful on Jul 18, 2007 21:26:48 GMT -5
Kasey was walking at a quick pace trying to get back to her dorms to drop off her bag of supplies she was carrying. She had been late in buying some stuff for school and personal use and having classes the next day thought it would probably be smart of her to do this now, And she had bumped into to many creatures of the night in her 15 years of living to know that if she wanted to get to her room without breaking something, either limb or item she should hurry up, not to mention curfew was a few hours agoThe snow piled along the road caused some difficulty for her. Her breathe making puffs that came back and hit her in the pale face as she walked into them. Then in her brown converse she stumbled on a curb and fell into a man walking by (Brendan) "Oh god I'm sorry" she said before she even looked up as her bag spilled onto the ground, Her books and potion ingredients getting covered in the wet snow. "Damn" she cursed still not having looked up at the stranger as she picked up her stuff and put them hurriedly back into the brown paper bag
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Jul 19, 2007 17:14:32 GMT -5
Brendan was merely thinking about anything but reality itself, for in his own... La La Land, he hadn't much payed attention to his surroundings, and he didn't even notice the fact that he was kicking snow for quite long distances from his path. Not that he would even care if it had hit someone in the face, on the contrary, he'd love it very much if that had happened, for torturing many souls had been something Brendan would normally do, not only for the mere fact that he was a werewolf, but he was cold from inside, having no normal, warm soul of any kind.
Merely uttering a sigh, Brendan never denied that fact, on the contrary, he'd proudly possess it and show it to many other humans, normal humans that is. Brendan enver usally socialized with anyone, anyone at all, but he could care less for what others think of him, for he partially knows what they do think of him: A cold-hearted beast that'll do anything, anything to get what he wants. He lifted his gaze from his path for mere seconds to glance at another shadow from quite a distance. Brendan narrowed his eyes at the boy, and kept his cold gaze at him, but said nothing, nothing at all, that is until....
"Watch it!" he snapped at the girl who bumped into him, merely giving her a normal glare he'd give anyone. It was nothing personal, in fact, it was far from being personal, but he never cared. He didn't even try to help the girl, and for surely, that'll show how he really is a cold-hearted beast. [/blockquote]
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Post by unfaithful on Jul 19, 2007 17:24:53 GMT -5
Kasey then looked up at the person she had run into, and frowned, He was not your regular wizard or muggle, She had a way of reading into people and knew he was not the kind for kindness. She scowled and placed the last couple of things in her bag before standing up to his height. She was not one for harsh words or violence though she had learned to fight back home. She glared into his icy gaze. Sorry to bother you She said with no meaning behind the words rather there was anger in her words. It ticked her off when people could stand to be like this. Hardly living in the world rather living on it, believing they carried themselves above all others.
Kasey flicked her bangs out of her face before continuing walking; She could tell that the human form she had passed was something more than that or perhaps less. Her spider senses tingled and her dying curiosity made her wonder why but she decided better not to know sometimes, Unless it came to you first. The moon laid in the sky, Untroubled by worries it was. From the coldness of the night or the silence of the streets.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Jul 19, 2007 17:40:31 GMT -5
Brendan's eyes followed the girl as she walked away. Of course, not many people know who Brendan was, and they would never understand if they did know. He didn't utter another sigh, though, this time, as his gaze followed her back, before retrieving to the snowy path he was seconds ago walking above. He bent down on his knees, and clutched a handful of snow in his bare hands, allowing the coldness to overcome him, except that he barely felt it, allowing the snow to drop in the process slowly.
He hadn't paid attention to anything at all, for his emerald green eyes were fixed on the snow falling from his hand, and he thought of himself as this snow: Pale, cold, and unloved by many. Once again, a sigh was trapped in the middle of his throat, as he threw the snow somewhere in front of him, standing up in supressed rage he didn't know he possessed inside of him.
His gaze was lifted with their usual icy cold eyes, only to glance at the boy once again. Within the coldness that his gaze possessed, he had some curiousity in them. What would someone attempt to do in such a time at night, and he couldn't help but allow curiosity to possess his eyes. All this time, and Brendan never lifted his gaze from the boy's, as if daring him... for Brendan's life was very much filled with dares he did wth himself. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Jul 20, 2007 12:02:58 GMT -5
Quiet footsteps continued to fall upon the snow covered sidewalk as Hannibal watched the boy in front of him with very focused eyes, he was not letting this one out of his site, for he was enjoying the moments. He was walking on without a spoken word to anyone or anything. He looked as if he had something else on his mind as he wandered, then without notice he looked up and turned his gaze back to Hannibal with sharp narrowed eyes, but walked at the same time. Hannibal looked up at the other still, letting his cold brown, emotionless eyes glare back up at the boy.
Their gazes broke as he snapped 'Watch it!' in cold tones that came from nowhere. Hannibal saw that on there ground there was a girl. She was moving quickly to pick up all the book as the boy snapped at her. He gave her no chance to apologize and simply stared down at her while she attempted to get all her things out of the snow. As she finished picking up her things, she stood to her full height and spoke to the boy. Hannibal hadn't been paying close enough attention to hear her words, but by the look on her features it was not happy.
Hannibal stayed behind and never let a word pass through his cold lips. He stayed silent as the scene before him took place. The male started to walk again, trudging on through the snow when he dropped down to his knees. Hannibal watched him quietly. He grabbed a ball of snow and just held it in his hands as it he was examining it, then threw it somewhere in front of him, and let his cold eyes glare back at Hannibal.
His eyes were filled with the hard ice that had lurked within since he'd first laid eyes on this boy, but within the ice, was a different look. A sense of not happiness nor sorrow, not even anger, but perhaps... curiosity that had begun to take over those cold eyes? For he wondered what Hannibal was doing on a night such as this? Hannibal's dark, and emotionless eyes gazed back at the boy. He felt no anger, or no curiosity at this moment. Nothing could be seen in his deep and dark eyes. The boy rose then, his eyes never breaking their stare as Hannibal walked forward at his slow pace, the boy's eyes were daring Hannibal to try his best. A hungry vampire never passes up a good challenge.
Hannibal kept his pace the same, as he neared the boy who had now stood. The boy stood at a full height, but his height was a little different then Hannibal's, for he stood at an even 6 feet. The two boy's were only a few inches apart, but each had their own little specialties, with the other being werewolf and Hannibal being half vampire. He stayed back for a brief moment, slowing his pace enough to get a good look at the other. From a closer distance, he looked just as mean, and his eyes just as daring. A smirk parted Hannibal's lips, and he lunged toward Brendan. Fangs aimed right at the left side of the boy's neck, and hands stretched wide to get him with a firm grip him and take him down fully.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 4, 2007 21:48:16 GMT -5
Brendan was usually right about his first impression of people, but apparantely, the other was not a human to be judged like others. Brendan closed his eyes briefly in order to attempt to shuffle his thoughts away from the boy that still stood a distance away. It was all in his werewolf instincts, knowing what people really are... normal people. Truth to be stated, Brendan had never been anywhere near close to someone in order to find out the truth beneath the exterior shell, but he needn't anyways. It was no use in life to know if one is a foe or friend, for Brendan, all were foes.
A small sigh escaped his lips, as he opened his eyes once more, following the boy that slowly approached. All the while that he had approached, Brendan never lost eye contact, obviously attempting to find out what was those dark eyes of his hiding, but he found nothing, Emotionless, probably even colder than Brendan's were, but he, nevertheless, didn't retrieve his gaze.
His hands, which unconsciously were balled up in fists, seemed to go numb, and betray his sense of anger that he supressed inside. He wasn't angry at anyone else but himself. It was just a feeling he had grown to live with. Normal to his.... kind. Brendan had never met any other werewolf, nor any Magical Creature for that matter, excluding that werewolf that had bit him, but he knew that he really did belong to those cold-blooded murderers.
He never did shrug that thought of, but a big part of his brain stood focused on the boy, now merely inches apart. Of course, Brendan didn't back away, instead allowed his gaze to flicker to the cold eyes of the person in front of him. They did hide so much, but Brendan didn't take one second to think of them, for in a matter of moments, he was attacked, literally, by that... monster. As if on instinct, he ducked, but didn't dare run away. He was no coward after all. Of course, a wand wouldn't even benefit in such a situation, but he could care less. He wasn't frightened, on the contrary, much more or less than amused. Straightening himself once again, he allowed his glare to remain on the boy, a smirk lightening his pale features. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 5, 2007 8:08:40 GMT -5
His figure plunged forward, aiming right at the boy in front of him, and he ducked! Damn it! One can never predict such a thing when attacking in the cold nights. Most people are paralyzed with fear and don't move at all, but Hannibal should have known better for this one never broke their gaze as Hannibal grew closer. He stared right back into Hannibal's cold and emotionless eyes without flinching. He jumped right over the other and landed on his hands. Being as flexible and agile as Hannibal was, he was not hurt upon landing, for he threw himself into a back handspring and landed onto his feet. He'd always wanted to try that, but he wasn't in the mood to care very much about how awesome that was.
He turned around and faced the boy. Something different tonight, and it didn't bother Hannibal it just excited him. Most people were easy to take down and his night lasted several minutes, but this.... boy would be different. He was different and Hannibal knew that. There was something about him that really caught Hannibal and attracted him to the other. It wasn't the way he looked or how he acted, it was something different, like something deeper down. Hannibal knew he wasn't of vampire blood as well, but he sure wasn't completely human either. Cold brown eyes glared back at the other. He didn't attack again, but he didn't dare back off.
Hannibal's eyes roamed over the other for a few moments, awaiting a move. He didn't think the other would bother to run, but he wasn't sure that he would fight back. He might be the type that is amused by one trying, or he might be fun to fight with. Hannibal was up for a fight, and if he chose to, he'd be given a run for his money. Sure, what could you see when you looked at him, a tall kid, who was really skinny and almost sickly looking. He didn't look all that strong, but he was, an on top of the he had vampire blood, which only boosted his strength more. Then again, not to sound too confident the other looked Strong as well. Nicely built underneath those clothes.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 5, 2007 10:29:59 GMT -5
Apparently, having the silent "duel" was something that Brendan was used to, with a slight difference in this boy. The other people were completely human, boring and barely lasted a few seconds with Brendan's cold gaze lingering upon theirs, but he knew that this Vampire was nothing like the other... human, with all obviousness hanging upon his thoughts.
Obviously, Brendan wasn't going to run, but fighting wasn't in the dictionary, after all, what chance would a werewolf have against a Vampire, a Werewolf that wouldn't turn into one until merely a couple of weeks away, a Werewolf who now looked like a human but within possessed the feelings of a Werewolf. He read so much about Werewolves, and Vampires were in the subject of the books he read.
They can't die. A wooden stake in the heart is different subject, but other than that, he doubted that he would be affected by curses. Anyone else would've been turned into roast beef if they dared approach Brendan, but apparently, now, his will of killing this Vampire was at different page. Was it curiousity, perhaps, that prevented him from picking up any wooden object and placing it were it really belonged, or was it the mere fact that he knew that the boy was nothing more or less than coldness within, much like Brendan.
Brendan was pretty sure that he was very cold, emotionally speaking, that the ice beneath his feet would shiver of that amount of coldness. He cared for no one, nor did anyone care for him. It's as simple as that. To his surprise, somewhat his balance betrayed him, making him lean against a tree which somehow appeared behind him. Cursing inwardly for losing his balance at this moment, he never removed his cold gaze from the other boy's dark ones. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 7, 2007 23:49:12 GMT -5
Books lied. The only true books of vampires and werewolves were the ones that the true creatures of the night had written themselves. Almost 100 percent of the books upon the shelves of any store or library were crap. They described vampires as blood thirsty creatures that were ruthless and would do anything to anyone in order to keep themselves alive. No, that was only if there was a shortage, but in no way would there be unless a nuclear bomb exploded somewhere. Then, all this stuff about garlic and holy water just made them laugh. Yeah, it didn't work, and sun didn't make them spontaneously burst into flame either. Sure they burned easily and were irritated by the sun, but anyone could survive. Now, the stake in the heart was true, because anyone would die do to that. If you just randomly come up and stabbed someone in the heart, of course they will die, but to kill a vampire, it had to be a sharpened wooden stake, and it had to be made sure to go right through the heart, or else it wouldn't work. About werewolves, they were described as strong and fast creatures, but having much lacking in their knowledge and power to grasp easy concepts. Of course, anyone with eyes would see that as true...
Aww, no fight? Just as Hannibal began to have some hope in this guy, he crushes the vampire's hopes. A fight would be most entertaining, but of course, it's never as fun to fight a werewolf in their human form. They are easier to fight against. Sure they are still strong, fast, and dumb as a box of rocks, but there was just something majorly entertaining as to fighting a big slobbering, hairy beast. A smirk crossed over Hannibal's pale features, the first sign of any actual emotion, but it didn't really show anything pleasant. It twisted his features and in the shadows, his dark brown eyes looked black. He never dropped his gaze with Brendan as he started to circle the other. His footsteps fell easily against the ground, and crunched softly.
His features held the smirk as the other lost his balance. No foul words escaped his vocals, but there was definitely the fast strike of annoyance through his dark eyes as rather randomly he seemed to fall back against the tree. It had been there for some time now, and it had just been a lucky catch that he landed against it, instead of hitting the cold ground. Hannibal would have taken advantage of that moment of uneven balance, but the other never broke contact with his eyes, and that entertained him. Most eluded his gaze as Hannibal stared over at them. People didn't usually take on the challenge of staring back at him. Hannibal stopped circling the other and walked closer. His figure disappeared for a brief moment as he did what a vampire can call 'flighting'. It's when a vampire can move fast enough that he cannot by seen by those with mortal eyes. Of course, being only a half vampire, this skill can only be used little bits at a time. Unlike a full vampire, who can use the flighting skill for a few solid hours at a time. He stopped behind Brendan and spoke in his ear. A bone chilling hiss being heard in Hannibal's usually calm and quiet voice. "You don't run, or look away from me. What's wrong with you?" He questioned, his voice being soft, as to only be heard by the other as Hannibal whispered in his ear. Of course, there was no one else around for the girl whom had been around earlier left, but it was only a habit for Hannibal. He never knew who could be around. It would be a shame if a vampire elder came to find him 'playing' with his 'food'... but it's how Hannibal was when he found someone interesting.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 8, 2007 7:23:42 GMT -5
As the other circled him, Brendan could clearly picture a Vulture circling his prey, but apparantely, this time instead of a Vulture it was a bat, his eyes following him. Was it, perhaps, the fact that the place was very, very quiet that Brendan could practically hear his heartbeat, or perhaps was it the fact that it was struggling out that he could hear it? Brendan didn't fear... it, but he was anxious. Anxiety filled him from all directions, as his gaze seemed to glue suddenly to its place. Brendan could very much thank the fact that the tree was there, he wouldn't want to be the other's next dinner. As he approached, Brendan wasn't about to advert his gaze anywhere, for if he ever did start a "staring competition," it'll last for as long as Merlin knows, and in this case, the two didn't seem to shift their gaze anywhere but at the other's eyes. Almost immediately, Brendan blinked his eyes. It apparantely had... gone, but Brendan knew better. The Vampire wasn't gone. Narrowing his eyes at the place where he had just disappeared, his instincts told him immediately to turn around, but Brendan wasn't about to anyways.
That'll show sign of fear, and he was no coward. The fact that Brendan was a werewolf, all his life was based on instincts, and nothing but instincts, for if he ever did the contrary, then the cold-hearted beast will no longer be... cold-hearted. Brendan seemed to be a werewolf even if he was a human, merely because of the fact that he no longer wanted to be... human. He knew instantly that the other wasn't going to disappear just like that, for that wasn't him. What in the world would he knew about him? Apparantely, from what he had just witnessed, plenty to know that this isn't an easy opponent, not one bit easy. Of course, there was still the option of the "stake in the heart", but Brendan wouldn't do it for an unknown reason, that's not how he "worked." But he probably thought that the other was going to use any sign of weakness and go for it; start attacking him, and that's exactly why Brendan was not giving him any sign of weakness. But sooner or later, though, he would have to, after all, he isn't a Vampire as well and couldn't properly suppress rage, perhaps, or the anxiety that filled him, and he cursed inwardly for that.
Wishing now more than ever that he would've stayed in the common room other than staying out here, awaiting for a Vampire to appear and attempting very hard to suppress everything inside, which was almost failing miserably. The snow didn't seem to stop falling down, even if the roads were filled with it... filled with snow that it probably could cover all Hogwarts if joined together, and Brendan didn't bother shaking the snowflakes away from him. What use will it make, if more kept falling, then more will fall. He found himself thinking of snow meanwhile, and once again cursed himself inwardly. His thoughts seemed to switch very fast, a very unfortunate disadvantage of his. Then almost instantly, he could feel something, or rather, someone behind him, and without turning, he could very much make out who that person was...
The hiss was breathed into his ear, and Brendan could barely suppress the tingling sensation that ran through his spine, as he allowed his cursing to escape his lips, and even if it was barely over a whisper, there was nothing but quietness filling the air and it could be heard, barely. Regaining his composure, he narrowed his eyes and the words escaped his lips. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just no coward and I will never run." he answered him, his voice shaking with suppressed emotions of rage that he had shown some sign of weakness, yet it was just a soft whisper. Brendan was never one to lose temper, and he wouldn't start now, but he hadn't liked the fact that the Vampire would make out a sign of weakness, and he cursed inwardly once again for that. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 8, 2007 11:40:58 GMT -5
With Hannibal being as close to Brendan as he was, he could feel the shiver that ran down his spine. Brendan had been able to control himself for the most part and then Hannibal smirked as the curses escaped the vocals of the werewolf. How he adored this guy. The other was trying so hard to be cold hearted and emotionless, yet he seemed to slip right through Hannibal's fingers. He was slowly being unnerved as he tried to cover everything. Even such imperfections as loosing ones balance can be called a sign of nervousness, or even perhaps anxiousness... which are all known as emotions. The smirk remained upon Hannibal's pale features as he listened to Brendan speak.
"So, you say you are no coward and you will not run." Hannibal's tones were soft, and the bone chilling hiss never left his soft voice. It amused Hannibal that he was being so brave, and that's why he didn't take advantage of this moment. He could easily find the pressure point and knock Brendan out, or he could just simply bite him. Either way, Hannibal would 'win' fair and square. Brendan has all chances to run, and ruin Hannibal's night, but he didn't. He was making things too easy. Hannibal's eyes looked out in front of Brendan. There was nothing out there. He watched the slow rising and falling of the other's chest as he breathed in the cold night air. "But yet you stand here doing nothing? Do you know what you're even doing out here this late? It's not safe for one like you to wander the streets among the grounds that you don't know." His voice hissed as he whispered quietly into Brendan's ear. He acted as if Hannibal was going to kill him. He stood still and unmoving, as if waiting for his slow and painful death. A vampire's bite was not fatal if they hadn't chose it to be.
He let his hands brush up against the soft skin on the other's neck. He didn't have long hair which made it somewhat easy for Hannibal to bite him. He waited to hear what comment would be returned to Hannibal's own 'threat'. In a way, he'd warned the other about being out here so late at night, but in the other way he'd been asking Brendan to do something. Start a fight, or reach back and try to attack him. Or even perhaps something different might be picked up in Hannibal's words. He was two different people almost, one that he was during the day, kind of shy and very light hearted, but as his other self, with the vampire blood, he was cold and almost emotionless, but also in a twisted sense, very playful.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 8, 2007 17:11:10 GMT -5
Brendan glanced at the road ahead of him. It was quite easy to run, to return back to the castle, but that's not who Brendan was. He really could care less if he was attacked, because either way, he will still be a monster. He somewhat cursed for not being a Vampire, for then he then really will have no emotions, unlike being a Werewolf, of which you choose to suppress all emotions, but the only reason that he didn't want to be either was his little sister. He wouldn't care if he was a troll if he didn't have a sister, and he could manage, but the fact that reality was striking him, he would hurt her either way. Of course, little Leah never knew what he really was, for his parents kept that from her as a secret lots of times, and when she would ask where he would go every month, they would mumble something like "to a friend's house."
He could clearly tell that the Vampire behind him was smirking, and Brendan pretty much wished if he did have a low temper, instead of the high one that just overcomed him. From everything that was happening, Brendan hadn't noticed that his breath was pretty much shallow, shallower than usual, and he in no means did anything to control it. As he heard what he had said, Brendan attempted to shift a little in order to remove the shiver with some movement, but apparantely was held in place, not by the Vampire, but by his own instincts. Dar.n them. One second, they're there to help, and the other, they just betray him. "I'm not the one that was expecting to be attacked by a Vampire and I could really care less if it's safe or not for one like me." Brendan attempted to hiss, but his voice came out as a shiver. He wished if that shiver was a result of fear or from the cold, but he knew that it wasn't, for he never feared anyone, or anything for that matter, plus, cold was something he could properly handle, for he did live in a snowy area after all.
Brendan wasn't going to attack the Vampire any time sooner, what use would it make? Sure he wasn't a coward, but he wasn't stupid either. Not that he cared if he was bitten, but the only way of attacking him now that was available was by hand, and he clearly could see that the Vampire was stronger than he was. Well, Brendan had dignity at least to admit that to himself, but he never did outloud. He hated the fact that he stood there doing nothing, but anyone else would run, which was practically the only option, and an option that Brendan will never take. As he could feel the hands of the Vampire on his neck, he clenched his fists for not being able to control himself like a Vampire, and wished more than ever at that moment that he was one, unconsciously. Finally, he was able to attempt to shrug off the stupid shivers he was having, well, alright, so he wasn't able, but at least, he had turned around, his eyes narrowing into a glare. Brendan was pretty sure that the Vampire could feel his shivers, and he hated that, for it wasn't good at all. Well, at least if the Vampire did think that the shivers were because of fear [which clearly wasn't] then there was nothing to worry about, at least Brendan thought that to himself. "I bet you enjoy that. "Playing" with your "food" before you actually start attacking." Brendan once again attempted to hiss, but once again failed miserably as his voice shook with the former shivers. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 8, 2007 17:49:46 GMT -5
Hmm, he wasn't expecting to be attacked by a vampire tonight. Well, most people usually don't wander alone in the very late hours of the night. That is practically asking for trouble, and it just so happens that Hannibal was out tonight. Sure, the chances are like, one in seven, but still. Hannibal made no comment to that statement and the smirk grew upon his features, his white teeth showing a bit, but not quite enough to show off his fangs. He never usually showed his fangs, for underneath his almost emotionless and cold hearted self, he was self conscious about what anyone would think. The attempt at hissing back at Hannibal was rather pitiful. It just wasn't there for the werewolf and would never be.
The feelings of fear, verses the feelings of cold are rather different, but alas it didn't matter what they were for it simply entertained Hannibal. Say he's easily amused and you're probably right. He found it interesting to be here tonight and having someone who would not run, but wouldn't fight either. Quite interesting... and very different. The other turned around and narrowed his eyes as he glared back at Hannibal. He spoke then with a tone that made him laugh. It had been, an attempted hiss again, but it only came out as a shiver. Dark eyes looked into the other's and he spoke. His words were calm and yet they had a hint of something else within them. They sounded with the hiss that his voice had, but there was something else. "Hmm, yes you can say that I like to play with my food. It's just so tempting. Rarely do I come across one so stupid as to stand and do nothing to save themselves..."
Hannibal's tones were quiet as he walked around Brendan again, his gentle hand tracing the soft skin of the other's neck. Maybe the insults would bring out the angry side of the werewolf. It's just what Hannibal wanted, and he hoped that enough insults would work. He liked the fire that this boy held. So deep down, it burned inside of him and the more it was teased, the hotter he'd be when he let the anger come out. This calm, and seemingly emotionless side of him was no fun at all. Hannibal stopped behind the other once again and got close enough to him that his mouth was just over the boy's neck, but there was no threat of a bite just yet.
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