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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 8, 2007 18:18:56 GMT -5
Brendan usually would never allow anyone to tease him like that, insult him with that smirk plastered on their lips. Right now, he wished if he could smack that smirk out of his lips, but made no move at all, as he allowed his hands to relax on his sides. Yes, Hannibal was different, and different in an intimidating way, and what annoyed Brendan more than anything was that he feared something within the other Vampire, and it wasn't the fact that he was a Vampire [for Brendan would never allow that to happen] but it was something inside of him. Probably the fact that he was the only one that allowed the anger within the other boy to reach a low level that it had never ever reached before, or probably the fact that he made him have the shivers that he fully didn't want to have in such a time, not when the other was now circling him again, and this somewhat agitated him more than what he had said.
Brendan never cared about what people thought of him, for he had so much encounters like that, but the one tonight was very different, in a very different way. He bit back the insults, and allowed his fists to clench once again as the other had his hand tracing on his neck. Brendan pretty much thought that the Vampire was doing that on purpose, just to hear the other boy shudder, just to hear his weaknesses flowing along as he touched him, as if he knew. Dar.n those Vampires. The fact that Brendan wasn't running began to flow accross him like a river, as he knew what would happen if he really didn't. It was either another flow of emotions, anger, anxiety, and probably something else hidden behind those emerald green eyes of his that he would never utter with his lips. Something that Brendan obviously didn't want to appear at all, or else, he wouldn't be struggling from the inside like an Angel and Devil fighting along the lines.
Then, as if reality had struck him suddenly from his own La La Land, he could feel the breath of the other on his neck, and not only was there the tingling sensations, but his heart beat wasn't on a fixed rythm. Faster and faster it beated, along with his breath caught in the middle of his throat. Reality had just struck him. There was no fear in his eyes, but just realization, and of course, he wouldn't like what he had realized. Brendan somewhat relaxed his clenched fists, but they still weren't fully relaxed, for he hated every moment of this emotion circus. Finally, he could feel his instincts on his side, allowing him to turn around and back away one step, his eyes now not glaring, but attempting to remove everything he had just had from emotions, and failed miserably, for his anxiety was at it's most, and there was a hint of another thing tugging on his emotions. "Darn - Darn you." he told the other, but his voice wasn't filled with anger, or even shivers, it was a voice filled with suppressed emotions that wanted to exit. He wouldn't hate the Vampire for attempting to attack him, and he wouldn't hate him if he did, but he would hate him for letting him have this emotionful "circus," of which he hated very much. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 8, 2007 19:11:45 GMT -5
The gentle steps of Hannibal made little sound as he circled Brendan. The boy was relaxing somewhat as he stood in silence. His anger had boiled down to almost nothing. The exact opposite of what Hannibal wanted. This boy would be interesting if he was angry, but he kept hiding the strong feeling that were trying their hardest to come out. Some people had natural feelings of anger that exploded out into the world without notice, while others could hide it when they needed. Then some, hid it, even though it needed to be allowed to break free. Hannibal was sure he'd be a more open and more interesting person if he stopped trying to hide all that anger.
Then things changed within Brendan, and anger boiled once again. his fists clenched tightly as Hannibal ran his fingers over the other's delicate skin of his neck. The smirk remained upon Hannibal's features. He wanted the other to get angry and burst. He wanted to see something other then the fact that he tried to burry his emotions within. He wanted to break through and find something, whether it be fear or some other emotion that was locked away. He wanted to see the boy shudder due to nervousness. Anything would please Hannibal. He continued to walk around the boy as his eyes roamed his features.
Hannibal stopped there and there he stayed. Everything stopped for a brief moment. A new look crossed over Brendan's dark eyes, a look that was new to Hannibal. the smirk dropped off his face, and turned itself into a very faint smile. His dark eyes were just as cold and heartless as they always were and always had been, but the new look upon the pale features as he gazed at the other was too different. Hannibal removed his hand from the other as he turned and backed away. His attempt to hide a new feeling was miserable and Hannibal's smile grew into a small smirk again. "Darn me? What did I do to you?" he asked with a smirk as he walked closer to Brendan once again. He filled the space that Brendan had created as he backed away. Hannibal's dark eyes found the other's and he didn't glare any longer. There was almost a soft sort of look in Hannibal's dark and emotionless eyes. Hannibal knew by how Brendan looked at him that something changed. Whether he would bother to do anything to Hannibal was still indeterminable.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 8, 2007 19:58:21 GMT -5
Brendan now, thankfully, didn't feel the usual senses of shivering running through his spine, but the unfortunate story of this is that his body somewhat tensed as he saw the faint smile on the other's lips. It wasn't a good sign, and never will be, but finally, retrieved its originality after seeing the usual smirk on his face, and of course, he suppressed a sigh of relief that swept accross his body. Brendan never did feel safe when another person did smile, it either meant that they were upto something, or that they were being friendly, which obviously was the complete opposite of this situation. Brendan, though, couldn't help but allow a smirk to come accross his lips as finally the Vampire showed a little bit sign of emotion other than arrogance, but his smirk was very small, because Brendan noticed that the other's dark eyes were still as cold as ever.
Brendan then slowly narrowed his eyes as the Vampire approached. Doesn't he ever back away other than the opposite? As Brendan attemped to back away even more, the "amazing" tree that once had saved him from losing his balance blocked him from backing away even more, and he cursed inwardly, his eyes still narrow, but even if they were narrow, he couldn't hide the former emotions that filled them. Once again, his body tensed up even more than before, but he made no attempt in tearing his gaze away. His instincts betrayed him, again. All what he did, though, was curse inwardly and try not to advert his gaze anywhere, even tensing more as he thought of an answer to the question. He'd never been unable to answer anything... unwitty and snappy back until tonight. He cursed the Vampire once again inwardly, before allowing his trail of thoughts to travel for something smart to say.
Unfortunately, he could find nothing to say, but the following came accross his mind: Firstly, being attacked, secondly, being attacked again, and then being penetrated and teased, then after that... he remained quiet and hoped for some nuclear bomb to blast nearby. Rolling his eyes inwardly at that thought, he stopped cursing and finally took notice of what Hannibal's eyes held. It was, to state it simply.... less colder. Of course, it still did hold that cold look he always had, but it was different, and clearly different. Different in a way that almost allowed his sense of fear to increase a little bit more than ever, but yet, he showed no signs of it, as his narrowed eyes returned back to their normal state, only with the difference of unsuppressing everything else."W-What do you think you're doing?" he asked him, his voice barely over a whisper, but it wasn't filled with rage or anger, or anything of that sort. He wanted to tell him to back away, but he could barely find his voice again, and it would very much sound like another sign of weakness. Brendan probably didn't even know what he wanted, for his mind was simply... blank. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 9, 2007 13:43:16 GMT -5
Hannibal's eyes remained still and upon Brendan. While the other fought to hide the emotions that were starting to win the battle inside him, his eyes narrowed as if to hide the fact that he couldn't hide everything forever. Hannibal stood in place, his hands having been held behind his back, and his eyes unmoving. They stayed fixed up the other as he started to back away again, but the tree stopped him from doing so. The vampire's smirk didn't grow or shrink as he waited for an answer to be given to his question, but alas it was greeted with the chilling silence of the night, leaving Hannibal's question hanging as if it was meaningless. He had brought the other to silence, and he only looked back at Hannibal, the other eyes searching his own and finding something new, that less cold look to them.
The words that were heard next came from Brendan, but were nothing near an answer to Hannibal's question. The words were a question themselves. No sounds of anger or rage were within the words, it was just calm with the sound of wonder. He asked what Hannibal was doing and he looked carefully over the other's features as he was backed against the tree. The space between the two wasn't much, but Hannibal refrained from coming any closer. A soft breath escaped Hannibal's lungs as a sigh, and he stepped away a little bit. That look on the other's face and the sound of his voice... It was all so familiar and it wasn't until now that he thought against himself. His eyes never left Brendan's but his outer self, that seemed so cold and emotionless had broke.
The cold heartless look on Hannibal's face and in his dark brown eyes never changed, but he stepped back and there was a slight shake of his head. Very faint and almost unnoticeable, but he decided against himself as a picture of a young boy, and an older man came to mind. Upon looking at the picture longer, it was him and his father. He'd been only ten years old, and his father had backed him up against a wall, yelling in his drunken rage. It wasn't that exact scene really, but it was close enough to make Hannibal think. He knew it was his nature to be so cruel as to seem like his father, being a vampire and all, but the look on the other's face reminded him too much of himself, and he turned away.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 9, 2007 18:18:00 GMT -5
Brendan probably couldn't hold the staring "competition" any longer, for his state that was full of unwanted emotions took over him, and he barely could last any second longer. He nevertheless, didn't dare advert his gaze anywhere, very subconscious of what might happen if he did, but what he really did care about now was control. Control over every single humanly feelings that possessed him unwillingly. Sure, he did have some human emotions, but that was only for his sister, other than that, he'd place a huge ice brick wall between him, these emotions, and people. But tonight, feelings of anxiety, agony, rage and anger, un-coldness, and many others would never exit him, and he'll probably stay with it all night, that's unless a miracle happens and he switches back, or at least, he'd turn to something better, and by that he doesn't mean like a Vampire, but emotionally speaking.
Brendan wouldn't talk. In fact, he couldn't talk, for it seemed that his voice was trapped in his throat, unable to move. Now, he really wished if it was fear that made him the way he is now, but unfortunately, it wasn't. Finally, he could feel his body relax and his senses coming back as the Vampire retrieved back somewhat. Brendan didn't want to sigh in relief, for it would clearly be heard by the unnerving silence that was there but was unnoticed till now. But now, he could keep his gaze still, for some self-consciousness started to return back to him for some brief moments, before he allowed his body to go limp with a sigh. He didn't even notice that he had held his breath for some mere moments before he allowed it to exit. But nevertheless, he didn't allow any of this to be shown to the Vampire... the signs of other emotions. The sigh couldn't mean anything, right? It could just mean a sign of relief that the Vampire wasn't attacking him, or it could even mean a sign of annoyance of being here, but unfortunately, Brendan knew it was neither, for he somehow, did want to be here instead of his Sceleris dorm room, being surrounded by pictures of his sister, or another unnerving silence that sent him to feel colder than ever.
He had been in deep thought, Brendan could tell by reading his almost unreadable expression, and it didn't seem to be a happy thought at all. His eyes followed him as he turned away, and for a brief moment, he thought of not calling him, but somewhat, his instincts took over for no reason. He cursed his instincts once again, as he opened his lips but only no sound came out. He had just remembered that he had no idea what this Vampire's name was, and who in their right mind would give his name to the person he was attacking, so instead, Brendan attempted to clear his throat, which somehow succeeded, his feet practically dragging him to the other side to face the Vampire in some un-bravely manner, as he finally mumbled the words he first was unable to say. "Well, to state the truth, being attacked by a Vampire twice could make any normal person curse, and being penetrated and teased could make someone with a normal mind curse, but having a show of emotions and unwanted feelings and..." well, he couldn't really think of what to call it, so he continued instead "could make any werewolf curse and somewhat unable to..." he didn't really know what to say now, so he closed his lips once again, and allowed his body to relax against his will, allowing a sigh to exit his lips. He didn't know why he would say such things to someone, to someone who was a Vampire, a Vampire who had attacked him, a Vampire who had attacked him and just met, a Vampire who had attacked him and just met whom had somehow been able to allow unwanted feelings to appear, and they weren't focused on his sister now, but on the Vampire himself. He could curse that Vampire as much as he wants, but whether he did like it or not, he was pretty much feeling some... respect, shall we call it, for this Vampire. Call it weakness if you want, but he'll pretty much disagree, for Brendan always does disagree with normal people. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 9, 2007 21:24:21 GMT -5
He stood still, not being able to look at the other any longer. It wasn't that he had something against the guy, or that he'd done anything to upset Hannibal... it was his own fault. He'd started to think instead of just continuing on with what he usually did. Never before had he actually thought about how familiar this all was. If it wasn't every day, it was every other day that he was being beat up by his father. Backed against a wall with no place to run. He'd always faced a man that had been stronger and faster then himself, and to some stretched point, it was the same here. All though werewolves tend to be cold and use brute force to get what they want, they were compared to vampires as only minor competitors. Not to seem too arrogant, but they were somewhat of a lame match usually, but it was just like Hannibal and his father. Backed up against a tree, with no where to go. Now of course the werewolf didn't fear Hannibal like Hannibal had feared his father, but that look on the other's face really got to him.
The boy cleared his throat and it seemed to be over whelming loud in the brutal silence that surrounded the two as they stood in the middle of the town. Hannibal remained still, as if his feet were glued to the ground. His dark eyes watched the snowflakes falling from the pure ebony sky. The crunching of the others feet were heard as he approached Hannibal. Dark eyes remained at the ground. It wasn't fear per say, but almost an uneasy feeling had come over Hannibal and he couldn't bring himself to looked up at the boy. One could say he was weak hearted, but perhaps it was true. He was cold and heartless that didn't give a f.uck about anyone until it related to his own life. Finally as the other spoke, it broke the silence and Hannibal looked up from the ground. His cold eyes returning to the face of the other. Despite the uneasy feeling that washed over him, Hannibal still managed to keep himself in check and his dark eyes stared up at the other.
Hannibal was almost confused by what the other said. He stated in plain tones that being attacked by a vampire would make any normal person curse. Well of course. Most people feared such a thing and it would be an event that would probably scar them for the rest of their lives. Then he spoke of the deeper topic of the hidden emotions. He called it a 'show'. Perhaps that's what it felt like, to have all those feelings brought to the surface after years of hiding them. There was a moment of silence, and Hannibal's dark eyes looked upon the other in silence. They were cold and showed nothing, almost making it seem as if Hannibal was angry, or annoyed that the other had dared to approach him, but he wasn't. He was listening intently to the words that came from the other. Somewhat unable to... what?!
There was a dead moment of silence between the two as they looked at one another. Hannibal didn't know what he had done to this boy, but he seemed so different then when he'd first taken a fatal lunge toward the boy and missed. He seemed so different now, almost opened somewhat. Hannibal's eyes fell to the ground again as he thought for a long silent moment. He'd never been around another that made him shall we say almost feel a bit of nervousness like this before? He didn't know what to say or do. He didn't have any longing to attack him, yet he didn't want to just walk away like he would from any other moment. Dark eyes looked up once again. "I am... unclear of your meaning, sir." He said, addressing the other by a polite title since he didn't know his name. He wasn't sure what else to say, and he wasn't exactly sure of what the other had meant by such strong words. The meaning was probably simple, and just by questioning the meaning, it probably made him sound like an idiot. He hoped not though.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 10, 2007 8:55:21 GMT -5
Brendan couldn't very much look the other straight in the eye, but he didn't want to look away, for the other might think of him as a coward werewolf that barely could even look a Vampire in the eye. But Brendan knew that he could barely last any longer with that gaze upon him, nevertheless, he didn't dare look away. Finally, though, the other boy looked at the ground as the silence that was very unnerving took place instead. He secretly thanked that moment of silence, for now he could be able to think over what he had actually told the boy, but regret just wasn't there. It was as if he never did feel afraid of telling this boy anything, yet, he still was afraid. It was complicated, much like Brendan was, and that was nothing new to him, but the experience was. Who would have the "pleasure" to be attacked by a Vampire and all those "fun" moments of weaknesses uttering the same moment that was no result of fear?
Well, the answer was simple: Brendan. He always had... different encounters with people. Such an amazing life of his, eh? Note the sarcasm. What he had seen in the Vampire in these moments of silence was very different than what he had seen in him first, very, very different. Much in a way that allowed his "barriers" to crumble away in a matter of seconds. He hated that, to say the least, but really, he could do nothing at all. He had been silent for many moments that lots of thoughts invaded his mind, open to any suggestions to whatever to do with the unnerving silence, or to what in the world would he also tell the Vampire he had just met seconds ago. But right now, he could only allow his instincts to take place, because he didn't think he would last any longer if his human side did take over anyways, which in many ways, had already invaded him badly.
Finally, the silence was broken, but only to those dark eyes of the Vampire glancing back at Brendan, and Brendan this time also never gazed away but wished if he could. Listening to the words exiting the Vampire's lips, Brendan couldn't help but allow an eyebrow to raise. It wasn't for the sentence, but what had followed it. "Sir" sounded a bit too formal that Brendan knew that his expression was rather amused, but he, nevertheless, never allowed a sound to escape his lips. Plus, he was rather thankful that he did call him sir instead of "monster" or "werewolf" etc... Shrugging that thought off of his head, his gaze stood fixed against the Vampire's one, taking in the meaning of his words, before finally, he did really think of what to say. Brendan felt some kind of uncomfortable feeling running through his body that he had to wrap the cloak tighter around himself in order to attempt to ignore them, allowing his gaze to look up for mere seconds. He was glancing at the moon. It was something normal for a Werewolf, or any normal human who was merely curious, to glance every second nervously at the moon, except that Brendan instead of fearing of what might come when it's a full moon, was rather much fond of it, because that's the only way that he could have thoughts that were suiting for his werewolf side.
He didn't return his gaze back to the other, because he might be afraid of what might he find if he did, but instead glanced at the ground instead, unwanting to meet any fierce, or sharp gaze from whoever, but instead, started moving his lips, in a barely audible voice. It was as if he was possessed by his human side, talking what he partially didn't want to. "Ever since I was bitten at the age of seven, I never did really think that I'll be human at all, which meant that I didn't dare show any human emotions. If you've spent many years "practicing", you could really try to suppress everything you have, but that was never the truth at all. I couldn't not be human. But the only one that I have ever did treat very well and showed human emotions was my sister, who knew nothing about my... "disease". That's why around people I could show nothing of those... weaknesses. I can't control my human side. I'm a half-breed after all, not a monster. But my parents treated me different, so had my whole family. That's why I grew up thinking that way. I didn't want to be mingled with "humans", because of their way of thinking. I could really care less if they knew I was a werewolf, I just couldn't bear my sister knowing that, or anyone knowing that I did, after all, have something called... "feelings." Which were humanly." he paused for mere seconds, allowing a sigh to be mingled with his words.
"No one dared approach me, knowing that I was really a b.astard, the way I wanted it to be, even though they didn't know that I was a monster. I hated people, and they hated me. It was as simple as that. Tonight, I didn't really expect for someone to be attacking. Who would expect it anyways? At first, I didn't really think that it did matter if I was attacked or not, for it seemed just like another phase to get through that I could care less about. What it really had done was making me realize that I did have human feelings for others rather than my sister, something other than anger, rage and coldness. It was really a bad thing to have someone making me shiver from something other than cold or fear, but because he can; to know that I could be... weak, almost humanly..." once again, a sigh escaped the werewolf's lips, before he allowed his gaze to finally return back to the Vampire, his eyes now not having those fake monster feelings that he worked so well to allow it to appear to others. It was mainly the most words Brendan had uttered tonight. He wished that the Vampire would understand, but at the same time, wished if he couldn't. Either way, Brendan had broken the barrier. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 10, 2007 12:27:51 GMT -5
Trust me when I say this, but Hannibal has met a fair match on this night tonight. He doesn't see fear in the dark eyes of the werewolf. Though, he knows the other is strong and doesn't like to think that a feeling of fear will ever be felt, but Hannibal knew it was in there somewhere. All his dark eyes showed were fake feelings. Feelings that were like walls to hide his real emotions. Hannibal did the same in an abstract kind of sense. His dark, emotionless eyes were only hiding the feelings that had been stirred up inside him tonight, but they were not really 'fake'. The long moment of silence was greeted with no words, or no sigh of relief. It was just as it was; silent.
Hannibal's dark eyes eyes looked up, but not at the werewolf. His eyes found the buildings around him. They were tall dark and cold. They glittering as the snow settled down upon them. The silence between the two was long and almost eerie. Finally, the words escaped Hannibal's mouth as he looked back up at the werewolf. He didn't understand what he'd meant, and hoped for an explanation. Sure then by calling him sir it seemed overly formal, but he respected the werewolf, and since he did not know the other's name, he would not resort to giving him some sort of barbaric title such as "beast" or "werewolf". He didn't find it a good time to ask upon the others name either. It would seem irrelevant, and beside, Hannibal's intentions tonight hadn't been the best? We could say...
Hannibal watched the werewolf pull his cloak tighter around himself. Hannibal knew not what it was either cold or the chance to ignore another feeling, but whatever it was, after that movement things were silent ones again. Hannibal didn't move. He didn't fidget or pull his clothes tighter around himself. Dark eyes continued to gaze upon the other as his eyes rose to look at the moon. A normal trait with blood such as his? Hannibal never found the mood all that appealing, nor did he find the sun much better. Such strange thoughts to come through one's head as he awaits an answer to his question, but he didn't really find much interest in anything like that. Hannibal's dark eyes remained upon the other's face and waited for him to look back, but instead from the moon his gaze fell to the ground. Nothing in the vampire's dark eyes changed. It remained cold and emotionless as he waited to hear what the other said.
The words that escaped the vocals of the other were soft and almost unable to be heard, but thanks to heightened senses and the lack of any sound occurring around them Hannibal heard everything without a problem. He listened carefully as the other spoke of when he was first bitten. He could never imagine what that would be like. Seven is such a young age, and he didn't get to do hardly anything as a normal person then. He started to feel different, and tried to hide all his human emotions. He said that the only one who never knew about him being a werewolf was his sister. Then he caught that the other had called it a 'disease'. He didn't know if it was really that bad being a werewolf, but he continued to listen. He heard that he was treated differently because he was something different. That kind of thing had always bothered Hannibal for it wasn't his fault he got changed into something... well, unless of course he was looking to be bitten, but he doubted that.
A sigh escaped the vocals of the other to be mixed in with his words, and yet he still didn't look up at Hannibal, but he continued to speak. He listened and a small smirk crossed over Hannibal's features. He must have been stupid to come across one who is known to be a b.astard but what did Hannibal care. All he saw was someone walking alone... Besides, this meeting hasn't turned out to be bad... well, whatever one considers bad to be. He stopped his side thinking then and listened some more as he mentioned Hannibal in that abstract sort of way. He said he didn't imagine that someone would bother to attack him tonight, and he said he wouldn't care if he had been. He said it would have done nothing to him, but in fact it had.
The werewolf looked back up at Hannibal, and his dark eyes showed nothing of those fake feelings that Hannibal had seen before. It almost made him feel like a fake, for still holding his dark and emotionless eyes that he'd always had, but none the less he understood what the werewolf was saying and kept his eyes on the other. "It's horrible that you should get treated so differently for who you are. It's not your fault that you have to deal with such things, but hiding everything that makes you a real person is more then likely to be the reason why everyone hated you. It probably makes no difference whether I tell you that or not, but when I first began watching you tonight, you almost didn't seem like a real person, for you were so cruel and cold hearted. If someone sees what I got a chance to see tonight, then perhaps they wouldn't think of you as a b.astard or even a monster. Because you know what? Out of what I have seen, I don't think that. I respect you, and I am almost glad I got to be able to get you feel something different, that feeling of weakness." Hannibal said still watching him carefully. He'd usually get someone who would want to kick his a.ss for saying stuff like that to someone's face, calling them all the things that deep down they didn't want to be, but he didn't think that would happen. When Hannibal said that he meant it. Sure it probably wouldn't affect the werewolf any, but he did really respect the other, and felt a slight attraction to him but that would never escaped from his own vocals.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 10, 2007 14:39:55 GMT -5
Brendan knew that he would not be able to look away, even if he did really want to do that, due to the many... humanly feelings that had filled his eyes. Brendan's eyes, you see, could never allow anything to hide. If Brendan felt something, his eyes would betray him by showing those feelings. Bad or good, all were shown in those dark, emerald green eyes of his. Of course, that was the reason why he did want to look away, but it was not what he needed. He might have said too much for a Vampire he had only met, but after all, it did feel like the right thing to do, even if his mind did deceive him by saying otherwise, but who would ever listen to their mind if they still did have a heart that beats, unfortunately, well, partially, but really, Brendan would be better off as dead rather than alive and in a form of a monster that is, besides, the world would also be better off without Brendan, not that he really did have anything to remain alive for, but why, then, was he still alive?
The answer is obvious: His sister. His Uncle wasn't the best of people, and he couldn't bear with the fact that his sister was living there with him. Every time he did think of that, anger built up in him and he'd probably break anything in sight, away from the prying eyes of other people. But now, he didn't feel the anger, or the need to break something, for he wouldn't really be doing any help with that to his sister except perhaps injuring himself badly that he wouldn't be able to return "home" for Christmas in order to see her. Well, it wasn't a home, it was more of a house... a house that is filled with nothing but a greedy, bastard Uncle, and anger. There was nothing sentimental in that house, not one feeling that could be related to that word, and it was really no wonder that his parents had sent her there, since they, themselves, weren't anything near having feelings for their own children. Brendan had already gotten used to that, and he only really thanked that he was there for his sister or else she wouldn't be living in a world that did contain something other than hatred, rage, and anger.
He hated the fact that now, since he was away, she would be living in such a world, where there is nothing such as forgiven, or easy, or even love. Dar.n those parents of his. he found himself thinking of such things but he still hadn't removed his gaze or adverted it in any way. It seemed to take forever in thinking such thoughts but what it really was: was mere seconds, for he could hear the other speaking moments after he had uttered those words that broke the former unnerving silence that he most definitely did not want. Brendan felt himself in a lost lullaby... words missing yet when you do find it, the words could be very relaxing, and could get your whole tensed body to do nothing but relax. Except perhaps the fact that he, now, instead of relaxing, was doing the complete opposite. It wasn't anything about the Vampire, but he now started to think real deep about what could've happened to his sister, but allowed a sigh to be suppressed in his throat, attempting to not let it leave.
Hearing what the other had to say, Brendan, instead of tearing his gaze away, allowed an eyebrow to raise. Hearing that coming from the Vampire perhaps did mean something to him, but he couldn't let him know that now, could he? And so, he managed to outcome the smile that threatened to appear on his lips, of which he had managed so many times to unreveal it to any person, at least not to people who would live after it... Finally, he fully did manage to straighten himself inwardly, as his gaze stood fixed, the barrier that had already been broken remained that way instead of quickly returning back, not that Brendan wanted it to return back, or at least, that's what he had thought secretly. Brendan didn't really think - no, he knew - that he didn't want people loving him, because if he did allow people doing that, love could be turned to something different, something worse than hate... probably known as hurt, but hate... hate could never switch to such a thing, could it? And also, hate couldn't be switched to love but love could be switched to utmost despise...
"I don't really want them thinking of me in any other way than being a complete scum, because then, I don't want them to like me. Do you even know what like could lead to and what hate could...?" It was much of a rhetorical question than a real question, and the next statement of his proved so "Hate couldn't be any worse, or any better, but like could lead to something more than that, and in any second, it may just crumble away that something worse than hate would form... despise and hurt." he mumbled, and finally, ran a hand through his hair - much of a nervous habit of his but the other doesn't need to know that now, does he? "Thanks..." he managed to utter, and even though the silence was obvious, his own voice was barely audible. He didn't really know what to say, and it was the best he could come up with in this second. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 10, 2007 15:26:55 GMT -5
Hannibal listened to the words that the other spoke. True, love could turn into worse things then hate ever could. When you hate someone things are over. Hate is final and it never turns into anything more or less. Now love, could go to hurt and dislike, and make you suffer for long periods of time before it even thinks about turning into hate. So he saw the werewolf's point, but who wants to be hated? Isn't there a point in someone's life where they start to want to be liked by someone? Hasn't everyone felt that feeling that they wished they had someone at their side that they could depend on forever? Hannibal's had that feeling before. Sometimes you need someone that you can lean on and they can hold you up. Other times you find someone who you lean on and they crumble beneath you. He's known many of both kinds of people.
"Well, if you want people to continue thinking you're scum, and hating you, then fine by me. But sometimes, everyone has that feeling where they want to be liked by someone, whether it's as a friend or as love. I'm sure you'll find that human emotion someday... Because not all the time when you are liked is it bad. More good comes out of it more often then not." Hannibal said in quiet tones. There was no longer that cold hiss to his voice, but it wasn't still being all gentle and soft hearted. He simply said this knowing that the werewolf would probably never have a change of heart. Once one's mind is set in place, their thoughts upon certain topics don't usually change, unless something spectacular happens in their lives, but how often do miracles come around these days? Hannibal nodded then as a small thanks was uttered short moments after he finished speaking.
It didn't matter to Hannibal was the werewolf did. Chances were better then good that they wouldn't see one another again, and if they did, things would be quite.... would awkward be a good enough word? If you think about the happenings during their meeting, it might not be all that great to see one another again unless some freak thing happens while they are calm. When they first met, it was quick and Hannibal lept forth to attack the werewolf, but then he became playful because he enjoyed the fact that the other was being tough, but almost a bit stupid. He enjoyed to play and to see if he could find weaknesses. that is what he did. He brought out another side of the werewolf. Not really the side he had wanted, but it was a new side, and he broke the other from his fake emotionless shell.
Now he was at a loss of what to say. He and the werewolf disagreed on the feeling of being liked, so there was nothing much more to say. Hannibal kept himself from thinking things he shouldn't and crossed his arms over his chest as a chilling wind swept over the area around them. It was a strong gust of cold air but not nearly strong enough to make Hannibal stumble as he stood. He'd faced wind that strong before, but it wasn't one of those this time. His dark eyes found the werewolf's face again as they stood quietly in the middle of the street. He didn't know what to say to the other, whether it was time to say good bye, or perhaps there;d be something more that he would choose to say in response to Hannibal's open minded comment. For most people, it took a lot to be open minded toward such a thing, especially after being locked away for so many years, speaking on the emotional term. He didn't expect the werewolf to find Hannibal's words true, but none the less he wondered what the other would say.
For despite the fact that their meeting was perhaps a little different then most, Hannibal found a lot of things about the werewolf interesting. He was an interesting creature deep down inside. Hannibal only mentioned creature because it almost seemed sometimes that he thought of himself as a beast despite what anyone else said, and for lack of a better term. It wasn't so much that everyone thought he was a beast or some other creature, it had come to a point where he seemed to think that himself. He'd hidden all his normal human kind of emotions for years and now they had all gotten free and he felt that sort of weak feeling. Weaknesses aren't always bad either. Like everyone says it's bad to cry? Well sometimes crying and showing your feeling can be a sign of strength.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 10, 2007 17:40:57 GMT -5
"I know. It's just the end of it that scares me." his whispers came out as soft, low whispers, but he knew that he didn't need to raise his voice since the quietness seemed very much enough to allow his voice to be heard. He admitted a fact that feared him, but he barely could think about what he had said. Brendan didn't need to think twice over his words. He seemed a lot more open now, more than he hated, in fact, he didn't want this to be happening but Brendan always worked on his instincts, and the Vampire seemed perfectly well how to penetrate inside of him. A bad flaw at times, but it didn't seem much like one now, Brendan probably even enjoyed this little "chat" that the two were having, well, excluding if the Vampire was to attack anytime now, but Brendan really couldn't help but allow his instincts to flow across him, even if he did think that he hated opening up like that, or even if he thought that he hated the Vampire himself. Brendan was curious. Very curious. Now, they say that curiosity kills the cat, but Brendan was not a cat, much of wolf, so that wouldn't cause much of a problem now, would it? Besides, what he was curious about was the Vampire... his name for a starters.
But no sound exited his lips because Brendan wouldn't be asking a different question in such an inconvenient time. Switching from words like these into other related questions was never such a good sign of wittiness, not that Brendan was witty, but apparently, being sorted into Sceleris was a proof that he was. Sure, he also is one hell of a snappy fellow, but anger never was shown in public. Brendan would never allow it, for he hated the public. He knew that he didn't really hate public, but he hated how many of them acted. For he was living with his parents most of his life, obviously... and his family weren't quite at their best when they found out about Brendan. Brendan never did tell them that his cousin was also one, for even if he hated his cousin after he did bite him, he was a loyal person. But of course, his cousin was even worse than Brendan himself, for his cousin would kill any person he finds when he was a werewolf, even if he drank Wolfsbane, besides, all Brendan's family had the same genes of hatred, agony, and rage inside of them, except, it seemed so even if Brendan hated to admit it: Brendan, and of course, his sister.
His many thoughts of his own family seemed to invade him quite a lot when silence was there, and Brendan didn't like it one bit. Then, almost unconsciously, his hands traveled to the back of his cloak, only to remember that his wand was back in his dormitory. He didn't mind much, though, but the silence was very unnerving that Brendan would've done anything to stop it. Almost literally that is. Normally, silence would've been golden in his dictionary, but with the Vampire it seemed uncomfortable, very unnerving, and like it wasn't the right thing to do; it also did send memories flooding back to Brendan's head. He could've sworn that since the silence was pressing on him pretty badly, that he would sing any moment. Alright, so that was a bit over the line, but you do catch the drift. Finally, the silence was broken, but only by a sigh exiting the werewolf's lips, not wanting to keep the sigh he held for many moments now inside of him, besides, it really was the best he could do to break the silence.
For mere moments, he shifted his head to the side, just glancing around in order to see if the silence was to be broken by anything other than the werewolf or the Vampire. He cursed inwardly for nothing, or no one being there. Of course, he didn't want anyone to be there, but if a glass was shattered then that'll be perfect, unlike the fact that his lips were practically pursed and unable to allow a sound to exit him because he felt all signs of nervousness running through him from the unnerving silence. Shaking his head unconsciously, he told himself that he wasn't at all nervous, but knew otherwise, because it was clearly written in those dark eyes of him that wouldn't just leave him alone. Snow was still falling, but Brendan barely could feel the coldness that over-comed him as his eyes remained on the sideways, not wanting the Vampire to see what was through them. "I never got the pleasure of knowing your name." he also whispered this time, as his instincts betrayed him and shifted his head back to glance at the Vampire. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 11, 2007 14:20:18 GMT -5
Hannibal listened quietly as the werewolf admitted a fear. That must have been somewhat hard for him to admit, but he seemed so open now compared to when they first ran into one another. His tones were soft, but the silence that surrounded them made it really easy for one to be able to listen without straining. The smirk that had been on Hannibal's face just remained. There was no hesitation for a second thought in his words, it was just openly admitted. Hannibal must have been able to really get under the werewolf's skin because at first he'd been hiding everything and then slowly through their conversation he's let many things slip until he is almost openly admitting to a fear. Hannibal was enjoying this, even if he said much less then the other had over the time. "Everyone fears the end, no matter what it is. May it be the end of one's own life or the simple end of a relationship. The end is never welcomed, nor something that people aren't afraid of." He said quietly. Hannibal feared the end of his own life, or the end of someone who was close.
Hannibal found himself then thinking about his mother, whom was still left at home with his father. She was very close to Hannibal, closer then anyone else he'd ever known. It was just because she was his mother, but it was because they trusted one another and helped each other out. Hannibal's father was an abusive alcoholic and constantly he and his mother were fighting with his father. He'd taken numerous amounts of beatings so that she could leave. He'd give his life for his mother. He's told her things that he'd be afraid to ever admit in public. He eyes fell to the ground for a moment as he wondered if she was OK. He'd been unable to reach her the last time he called.
Hands came up to Hannibal's face as he rid those thoughts from his mind. He ran his fingers through his hair, and ran them down his face for a second. He looked back around the place where the two were standing. He couldn't think about his parents right now. He was sure everything was alright and going smoothly. His mother had her own parents to run to, and he figured that is what she'd done since she wasn't home to answer the phone. He looked up again at Brendan, his gaze was still on other things. Hannibal wished for the other to say something, but for another long moment he didn't.
Then soft lyrics broke into the silence, and of course they had come from the werewolf. He asked about knowing Hannibal's name and looked up at him with nervousness in his dark green eyes. Hannibal's own dark brown eyes showed a bit of wonder, for he didn't expect that they would introduce themselves to one another, but none the less, he wasn't bothered by it, just as long as the werewolf wouldn't hunt him down or anything like that. "Hannibal Casry, and you are?"
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 11, 2007 18:11:23 GMT -5
Brendan would admit that to himself; that he was very bad with memorizing names. It isn't really his fault that he could care less about any other people's names to memorize them, not that he talked to many... alright, so maybe it was his fault, but he could be pretty positive that Hannibal's name was to be stuck in his head for a very, very long time. He probably was that interesting in Brendan's Big Black Book, but who could blame him? Brendan was probably recording the name a little too hard, for he had heard the question he was obviously expecting with a "trance-waking". Bleh, if there was another thing Brendan hated it was his name: It meant a bloody prince, which meant that he was a spoiled brat, the complete opposite of what he thought of himself. of course, opinions differ, fortunately. Besides, why in the world did his parents had to call him Brendanus, instead of Brendan? Dar.n them. But really, not that he had to tell his name to anyone before, except for perhaps the cops at the police station. His mind had invaded that thought and a smirk flew across his lips.
He had loved such memories, for they were all disruptive. After all, it's not everyday that Muggles see magic, well, maybe they would, but Brendan usually wants to get caught in order to see the cops' faces when they recognize he's gone the other day. His smirk hadn't quite left him, but he shifted his thoughts back to the question. "Brendan Carrillo." he announced, his smirk disappearing from his face for the remaining of seconds, as his eyes now, finally, got rid of the nervousness only to be replaced by a mischievous glint of what his memories had shown him, but really, that was no big deal to Brendan anymore. Not that he could care whatever his eyes had shown right now. It will appear, sooner or later, and now, the unnerving silence had invaded the area around once again, making Brendan stopping a sigh from exiting yet again. He really had hated awkward silences, but what he hated more was returning back to his dorm room, and thinking of the events of tonight, and that is why he would rather be here than anywhere else, besides, the Vampire proved to be an interesting company for this chilly night.
Speaking of temperature, Brendan couldn't feel any of the coldness attacking him, and it was rather stupid keeping that cloak on, especially if the previous nervousness had somewhat warmed him up more than he already was. The only reason that he had put it on for tonight was that it was from his younger sister. He slowly unclasped it and placed it over his shoulder, one hand holding on to it, whilst the other found its way towards his hair once again, but this time it wasn't out of nervousness, but in the process of removing it away from his vision. Finally, Brendan had suddenly mumbled "Nice meeting you." It really wasn't meant sarcastically, but the other would probably not know that from his neutral voice that didn't allow his tone to change to a serious one. [/blockquote]
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Post by Aliyyah on Aug 11, 2007 20:36:34 GMT -5
Hannibal. Not a regular name in the normal world, but not so unheard of. There has been Hannibal Lector that character in books and movies, but also a Greek leader or something like that was named Hannibal. He was bad with history, so don't kill him if he was wrong about that last part. Hannibal wasn't named after anyone special though. His named didn't mean anything all that great, or as far as he knew it didn't. It didn't stand for prince, which he was glad it didn't, or anything along those lines. He was just Hannibal Foster Casry, nothing special about him.
"If you consider this a pleasant, meeting then I suppose I can as well. Pleasure to meet you Brendan." Hannibal's tone was no doubt very sarcastic, but in the same breath it had that somewhat friendly sounding tone. This wasn't the best of ways to meet people, and it would definitely make for an interesting story if he so happened to tell anyone, which of course he wouldn't. He wasn't all that keen on telling everyone he was a vampire. It tended to leave bad impressions and most people just out right feared such creatures because of all the s.hit they read in those books that people call facts. He was also rather self conscious, about pretty much everything about him. His history and who he was, even the way he looked bothered him. It seemed that everything about him just wasn't good enough, and his dad played a major role in the way he thinks.
His dad had always been a major part of Hannibal, even though he hates the man more then anything else in the whole wide world. When he says he hates this man, it's real. Hannibal isn't the person that usually hates someone, because hate is a really strong word. He hates his father though. The man is always drunk, and he hits his mother. It's not so bad that he hits Hannibal too, but he hits someone who is deathly afraid of him, and enjoys it. He told Hannibal once that he likes seeing the fear in his mothers and his sons eyes. That's just sick. Bruises grace Hannibal's pale skin all over his body, and that's one reason why he's so self conscious. That, and the fact that his father insults him due to how he looks, and how he acts. Even his choice in people. He didn't know how his father found out, but the man knew that Hannibal was bi, and from then on, he picked at Hannibal for years. Beating him down and insulting him. It made a cold chill run up Hannibal's spine and he cracked his knuckles absently. Nervous habit, but his facial features showed nothing major, perhaps a bit of uneasiness.
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Post by Brendan[us] Carrillo on Aug 14, 2007 11:36:42 GMT -5
Brendan allowed a smirk to form on his lips once again as he had not mistaken the sarcastic tone that lingered upon the boy's words. Brendan's very shown curiousity had not left him, but he could not think of whatever he wanted to say. Brendan was never the type of person to talk, and the other boy didn't seem much of a talker either, and that could be much of a problem if the two were opening up a "conversation," especially one that had started with a very... unusual way that is.
Brendan's gaze traveled at the boy's figure, seeing him cracking his knuckles, as Brendan allowed a sigh to escape his lips at that moment. That was a sign of uneasiness, and the boy clearly was thinking. Brendan usually would have a bit of uneasiness thinking of very important events in his life, much like his sister, but he had barely know the guy for like what... five seconds, of which barely included anything at all... But what he did know is what Hannibal might be thinking about must not be very pleasant, and Brendan made no move to ask him, not that he would if he could anyways. The feeling of unnerving silence was overcoming him badly, and he did wish for anything witty to come across his lips for him to utter. "You aren't a full Vampire, are you?" was the only thing he had asked for now, as he had noticed the fact that this Vampire Hannibal does have a part which might be human... it doesn't take much of a fool to recognize that.
;; sorry, sucky and VERY short post -.-". my muse is completely lost. ;; [/blockquote]
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