Aldeia Lobisomem (CVnU Location)

@the_psyentist: *Removes finger* Good Psy... *Pats head*

@pyrogram: *folds arms, pouts*

@the_psyentist: So adorable! *Cuddles cute little Psy!* xD

@pyrogram: *bats him away* Don't cuddle meh!

@the_psyentist: *Cuddles!* Nope, it's happening! Way too adorable!!!

@pyrogram: >_<

Myka's eyes widened as she saw the partial shift, her intuition telling her an assault was about to take place. Natalia's position gave her limited mobility which made her movement all the more predictable. A flurry of shade followed behind her jerk to the side as the kick grazed her shoulder. The She-Wolf used her momentum from her dash, clutching onto the bar to curl herself around behind the woman. Her fingers sought to grip around her neck even as a leg endeavoured to wrap around her leg inevitably descending from gravity to pin her back to the pole. Myka smiled cruelly, whispering in the Panthera's ear. "Ohhh... I knew a guy once. Something of a hunter. Liked to collect the pelts of shapeshifters. Hell, he had a leather jacket made of human flesh. Used werewolves as hounds. The Panthera were one sect that was particularly elusive. But he was sure to keep up with all the mythos of the kind. He was a sadist. Knew just the ways to make the greatest yield. I could take some pages out of his book." She bit at Talia's ear lobe before whispering in a sultry tone. "But I can be a loving mistress when I choose for a good kitty. I'll taste you when I want. You aren't going anywhere. You can resist or you can enjoy it." Myka gave a purr, her thumb extending to caress le Petite Chat's jaw.

The werewolf shifted her face to the other side of her face. "What was that one weakness of the Panthera? Some sort of plant, wasn't it?"

I need to stop reading this one, I'm too captivated >->

@_rose_: LOL. What do you like about it? xD

@the_psyentist: I'm not entirely sure; I'm just incredibly eager to see what happens next. Maybe there is something in particular, but I dunno what it is.

The leader of the Wukong strode patiently and with ease throughout the centre of the village. Aware of the beasts to which this place housed, he wielded no fear nor lack of confidence in his stride. His hot breath visible from the artistic sculpted, armour mask he wore. It's expression was blank, yielding no emotion; it was neither passive nor aggressive - but yet it was a powerful image that was designed to strike fear into the weak minded and ill-fated.

The snow beneath his feet was soft, leaving a trail of faint footprints in his past trail. Quickly they became filled in from the fall of snow that was present in the air. However, that was not the only thing present in the air. The smells of the wolves drenched the air around, their distinct scent was easy to detect, especially at such a magnitude. However, it was likely they could smell him just as he could smell them.

The Eternal Vagabond was not present for any conflict, although he was armed for it if the wolves so choose to provoke such an event. His scimitar sheathed upon his left hip, coupled with a smaller curved blade. It was not the physical weapons that were his most dangerous; his Wukong blood made him a deadly opponent even for the wolves, and his elemental powers even more so.

His casual pace ended, the snow began to collect on the shoulders and helm of his armour, water beginning to drip down as some melted from his inhuman body heat. The Eternal Vagabond was seeking the attention of somebody.

@she-wolf: Awesome post! I'll have something for you later today after school

@natalia_dante: Okay. :)

@valken: Did you want a reply to that?

@rafael_romeiro: Looking for a reply from anybody who wants to interact!

@valken: I'll drop something for you then :)

@rafael_romeiro: Sounds good!

@valken: (Here we go :)

"Wanna know somethin' son?", a soothing, self-assured voice cut through the mute atmosphere like a knife through butter, the symphonic notes of it's engrossing accent rolled with every word, relaxing the soul of those whose ears it blessed. "I once came here knockin' on my brother's door", the voice resumed, it's physical source yet to emerge as it addressed the object of it's attention. "Casimiro Cardoso, my brother, and murderer of our poppa", the voice paused, a robust man adorned in peculiar garments swaggering from the encompassing shadows of the nighttime forest, his rugged, barbate features stretched by a roguish grin of expressed amusement, "Hehehe, and would-be murderer of our momma well.. until that vampire seized that opportunity from him".

Stepping forward, composedly diminishing the distance between him and the armored journeyman, the enigmatic Rama Red continued, "He don't take kindly to uh... visitors. Matter of fact son, I shouldn't even be here. See now last time I decided to pay lil' brother a visit, it didn't go so well, for either of us. I walk in, crack one quip bout him havin' to 'show his older brother respect and kiss both sides of the Don's cheek', and just like THAT!", his fingers snapping, facial features flaring manically, "His claws dig into my face and tear it off. Course I healed, but I realized then, that man ain't no brother of mine. He a monster. I lost a face that day, granted however, Casimiro then lost his nice lil' village right here as a consequence, had to rebuild. And now we have this rottin' shadow".

"There are... several reasons to be wary of him, to fear my lil' brother. He ain't the young buck I once knew, nah. He's the Beast Incarnate. But you know what?", the Modern Man's Messiah paused, dark eyes subtly squinted in mild earnestness, "You don't fear him. Mhmm, you a man of courage, of steely resolve. See now I like that. No, I respect that", he grinned, "See now I ain't like my brother. I'm no hunter of man, I got no fetish with mass homicide. I am a man of principle, son. I have noble ideals. Ideals that are the foundation of my goal. And to achieve my goal, I could use a man like you, I really could. There's this delicious new collective of superstar heroes. The MVP's. I wish I could say that I am a fan but maaan them boys and girls ain't nothin'".

"Lemme tell you somethin' bout the MVP's, a lil' secret", he paused, his voice growing soft as it lowered just above a whisper, austere flair festooning his visage. "They ain't no heroes. No. They are pursuers of monetary goals hiding behind the false face of altruism, righteousness and all that is just. They're false idols. Pretenders that are poisoning the minds of this generation. Because at the end of the day, son, all the MVP's really want is money, and what is money? Money my friend, money is power. And power is the goal of all idols, of all these prophets of heroism. These young eyes admirin' the Kurt Pendragons, Garrison Grails, Rafael Romeiros, all of them, they don't know the truth. But I'm gonna teach them. I need your... assistance in exposing the MVP's".

"You're free to say no of course, I ain't gonna stress".

@rama_red: Duuude this character is coool!

@pyrogram: Thanks :)

I guess I have time to continue where I left off.

@she-wolf:

Oh, she was good. Better than Natalia had initially given her credit for. The golden wolf understood nuance and psychological complexity, and she understood well how to sweeten a pot. The slight surge of electric energy that accompanied the almost sensually forceful touch of Myka sent a slight shiver running through Natalia's body, almost inciting the urge to explore just what enjoying it would be comprised of.

But the wild Panthera had never been one to do anything the easy way, or make life smoother for anybody in any manner whatsoever, and it seemed so unfortunate to start a pattern of doing so at this moment, at least for the foreseeable future.

No, she wanted to continue to test the wild wolf, and to see if she truly had the merit in her to be what she so claimed. And if she didn't...well, that would be a victory of her own.

It was the words that came next that chilled her to the bone, and sent a slight surge of panicked adrenaline through her veins. She schooled her physical reaction, her body language giving nothing away of her shock, even as she bit her lip while Myka bit at the sensitive lobe of her ear.

"There is no such plant," she murmured, her voice steady and quiet as she spoke it as if it were an undeniable fact of the world, as opposed to a blatant lie. The herb that Myka was referencing had been all but stripped from the surface of the Earth, and it was beyond Natalia's knowledge how the wolf would know of it. But if she managed to force it on Natalia, she would have to rethink her entire game plan.

"So what else do you have, or are you growing tired of going in circles yet?" She turned her head to the side in order to meet Myka's ethereal gaze directly, mischief and something else without definition swirling in her golden-touched irises.

I wanna write something with Astrid, but she's hard to jump into.

@_astrid_: She is a goddamn Viking. Kill something!

@_drake: I want to! Just having trouble getting a feel for her. Been re-reading my old posts to try and remember what she was like, not much luck :/

@_rose_: Radda radda. By Thor's might. Radda. Stallion. Fancy words. Blood, gore and money. Beer. BAM, YA GOT A POST!

We need to go on a drinking contest some day.

@_drake: That's surprisingly close to what I had in my head >_> lol

@_rose_: Oh, I am a telepath too. Never told ya that, did I?

Cause you just forgot it...

@_drake: >_>

@_rose_: What?

I thought you were a good guesser ?

@_drake: I don't like having my mind read! lol

@_rose_: *reads it again*

@_drake: *Feeds to plant* >.<

@_rose_: Now I am reading both minds!

"Hungry."

"Find them."

"They won't escape."

Ragged, hasty voices barked out in whispers within Blake's skull, forcing his tired to open wide; looking frantically for the source and finding none. The only thing that met his vision was more of the same dark forest he had long since seen enough the night beforehand. Except, something was different- no, wait, something was wrong. Why did the trees seem so small...? Only when the Wolf reared his giant head and stand up on his four feet did he realize what had happened.

"Let it out, relish it."

He wanted to call out for help, wanted to reach into his sack and grab hard onto the silver bar he'd brought with him, but he had no control over his movements at this point. The gigantic, dire beast that normally hid behind his skin was running the show now... and, just as the voices that accompanied his special brand of bestial instincts said, it was hungry.

"Nothing owns you; not Earth, not air, and not time."

With a single monstrous howl, everything around him seemed to shift and change just as he had; the forest went through several seasons in matters of seconds before settling on winter, the clouds above sprung to life and brought forth many storms before dissipating completely, and the stars that lay in the skies above them seemed to form new and familiar constellations... and then everything stopped. The Wolf remembered this place, an old and beloved hunting ground. This is where it would always go to track down the delicious meals it sought after, and where Blake was so often forced to watch from the backseat as it did so.

"Feast to your heart's desire."

Dedrick watched through the beast's eyes as it tore through the snow and branches, as a small village quickly came into view, and the creature rushed forward with starved urges. The wall of sticks and stones the prey had built around themselves did nothing to discourage the Wolf, smashing a way through with a single bash of it's skull. Men yelled, women screamed, and bells rang as the damned monster smashed through homes and feasted on those that hid within.

"No man or spirit will ever stand in your way."

The guards and soldiers tried desperately to ward the beast off with any means they had, holy men called upon the will of their gods to send the monster away and spare their village, but none of it did any good... none of it meant anything. It looked up from it's new meals only when it heard the sounds of many feet both big and small patting through the snow, and laid it's burning red eyes on a small group... a family fleeing the slaughter. It spat out a helmet that had gotten lodged in it's teeth before howling once more, giving chase to the sweeter prey.

"This is your world, it bends itself to sate you."

No amount of snow or trees could slow down the Wolf as it pursued the family of four, eyes identifying every member; acquainting itself so personally with them. A hard-working and caring father, an older son who had entered manhood not so long ago, and finally a protective mother cradling a small child... a girl, maybe five years of age. Blake was forced to stare at them, when he so wanted to turn away; the Wolf seemed just as excited by Dedrick's turmoil as it was by that of the family it was chasing, letting out a series of barks that was almost akin the laughter as it cut the prey's path, stopping them in their tracks."

"They are nothing to you."

The father and son quickly rush in front, swinging torches wildly and yelling for the mother to flee... they had already accept their deaths. With a swing of one massive paw the father is sent tumbling away like a rag doll broken with a single strike before chomping down on to the younger man's shoulder, forcing him to the ground and relishing his screams moreso than his flesh. A sharp twist and long crack filled the air as the Wolf snapped his neck, tossing him aside before giving chase to the mother and daughter.

"Nothing can escape you."

It howled in excitement as the woman tried to flee, only to trip up on herself as they all do... tearing her away from the now crying child, the monster swallowed the woman whole quickly. Blake tried to scream, tried to fight back, even tried to close his eyes... but he was powerless as the creature creeps closer to the little girl in the cloak, tilting it's head as she sat up and stared back at him. She couldn't understand what had just happened, nor why the creature was grinning so wide with such big teeth...

"AAAHHHHGGRRR!" The monstrous sound, between a roar and a scream, escaped Blake's throat as he felt a sudden surge of life. Swinging wildly in this new felt energy, he smashes his fist through a good portion of the tree he was laying on before standing up, looking around desperately expecting to see carnage... but everything was quiet, peaceful even. He breathed heavily as sweat trickled down his throat, slowly but surely calming down. "A dream... just a dream." The now skin-clad wolf muttered through breaths before falling to a sitting position, still looking around hesitantly.

He let out sigh before shaking his head before looking around the ground for his bag, finding it and pulling out a cigarette that had been strewn around inside. The nightmare was an familiar one, a memory of days long since past... he used to have it almost every night, which led to him not sleeping all that often. He hadn't had it in a while, and when he does it's usually because of some reminder... a sight, a sound, a smell... he didn't notice that specific scent until he had already lit the cigg- the scent of matted, bloody wolf's fur.

Looking up just as he was about the place the cancer stick between his lips, he caught a glimpse of a huge beast barreling through the darkness towards him; he might of been able to get out of the way if something hadn't already took him from behind, latching onto his shoulder with huge teeth. "F#cking hell!" Was all Blake could thing to yell as he was sandwiched between two werebeasts, feeling teeth and claws tear rip across as his body as he was forced to the ground, kicking and punching in failed attempts to ward the territorial creatures off.

Just when it seemed like he was destined to be yet another piece of meat for the beasts, one of the creatures barked in pain and stumbled backwards; a claw-slash now adorning it's face. Soon the other suffered similar wounds across it's gut and retreated backwards, stalking and snarling as their prey reveals a nature they hadn't expected.

Reddish fur sprouted over the quickly-healing skin of the feykin lycan as he crawled to his feet, baring alabaster fangs and bestial claws as the creatures he had come looking for readjusted, seeming to prepare for another attack... but instead, one of them fled while the other continued to stalk, watching him hesitantly. He considered trying to talk to it, but he felt that would simply make the situation worse so he simply kept an eye on the remaining werewolf. He hadn't come here to kill anything, but he didn't come to become the pack's next meal either.

(Just decided to continue this because I felt like writing something, and I again apologize if I may of caused any issues in doing so! :s)

@rama_red:

The figure of the Eternal Vagabond shifted slightly, glancing over his armoured shoulder through narrowed eyes. His response was one of reaction and honed discipline - his hand shifted to the two-handed hilt of his deadly blade. Quickly, he realised that the origin of the voice whom was directed towards himself was not that of a wolf. The scent was off...much different, far from animalistic, and much more human - bet yet, still far from tame.

He slowly turned his entire frame around; the snow upon his shoulders remained undisturbed as it further collected. Valken's tightened grip loosed around his blade, retracted away from it as the scent of this individual proved he was no threat... at least for now. The man spoke many words; a story of sorts. Westerners had a unique way of initial interaction, that was without a doubt.

The power of the scent was known, but faint in the memory of Valken. He racked his brain, attempting to find its origin. It had been long since this scent had carried itself across his nose. And then there it was, he knew what it was.

"So the talented hawk hides its claws." His voice was some what muffled through contains of the helmet, but was more flat and intimidating. "I know what you are....witch. But yet, I do not know who you are. Perhaps an introduction rather than a story would be more fitting to initiate an interaction hmm?"

Valken pondered the idea he had just been proposed. It was unlike the Wukong to involve themselves in any outsider conflict, let alone outside of Skellbrieg. It was practically unheard of, but Valken was an adventurer at heart as well as a warrior. It was combination which thoroughly entertained the proposal. "Before I make a decision on your proposal, do you even know who I am?"

@valken: Nice, I'll have something up soon.

@rafael_romeiro: No rush man!

@natalia_dante: Myka pressed her lips to the rogue Panthera's cheek, a chuckle allowed to vibrate through her skin. "Oh, kitty... don't you know that's just one of the lies your deluded species tells to help the Panthera sleep comfortably at night. They've always had enemies. Even though they may have faded from the memory of most, the weakness of the Panthera is still very much in existence. Secrets can be kept for millennia. Far longer than you've been alive, little one." She stared into the woman's eyes with a smirk of superiority. "To your credit, you hide your fear well even from the refined senses of a werewolf. The pattering of an anxious heart. The slight smell of sweat, the tinge of salt in stress-imbued tears as they moisten eyes." She breathed in deeply before stepping away.

The Golden Wolf paced before her, out of reach of her violent legs. "So, what do you say, cat? How best to torture you? I think I'll starve you first until you're too weak to resist. No reason to rush the process. Then I'll slice you at your most tender parts and make you drink the blood to sate your thirst. Does that sound good? I think it sounds delicious. I'll save some for myself, of course." A red tongue parted her lips to lick them with a sadistic hunger.

I love her, but I really wanna kick her teeth in. Or, fangs, whatever.

@big_and_bad: She's tapping into her shadow vamp side. :P

@the_psyentist: I sort of got that something was going on with her. Still wanna kick her fangs in >.>

At the far end of the village was a tavern. Like all taverns, it had its fair share of characters. In one corner of the establishment, a group of voyeurs sat. They motioned to one another quietly, talking about those who were also present in the establishment. More towards the center, a group of younger lycanthropes carried on like young pups - rough housing and carrying on with one another, in search of nothing but a good time. Another group seemed merely content to relax and unwind.

However, in a chair next to the fireplace sat William. Placing his drink down on the small table next to him, he took out his pipe and lit it up. Greystoke's hood was still drawn over his head; but as he struck the match and lit the instrument, the flickering light revealed the face underneath. Taking in a deep breath of earthy tones and smokiness, William shook out the match and sat back a little in his chair.

It had been too long since he had been around such a large number of his kin, let alone an entire settlement. As the days had gone on, he was content to merely sit back and observe Aldeia Lobisomem. He took note of its inhabitants, social structures and layouts. Now was the time to enact his plan... a plan which was set into motion many years before...

Looking into the fire and the burning embers, William thought back to the time he had seen his home - a place of Lycan prominence and glory - reduced to rubble by the armies of men. The three European strongholds of the lycan race, once places of royalty and power, were either destroyed or overrun.

Unbeknownst to most, Adolf Hitler had struck a deal with an ancient race of vampires known as the Nostrovich clan. William's grandfather, Malcolm Greystoke, and his father, Peter Greystoke, had fought off the vampiric pestilence for many years. Indeed, it was a blood feud of epic proportions that had spanned for centuries.

Before enacting his infamous Blitzkreig, Hitler dared to move his armies against the Lycan stronghold in Germany, Haus des Jägers. The combined assault of air crafts and tanks leveled the stronghold. Infantry comprised of humans and vampires stormed the fortress and killed whatever resistance was left - including William's father, King Peter Greystoke.

Now, the creatures had overrun the last two remaining strongholds of the lycan aristocracy in the world - Greystoke Manor in modern day Scotland and Habitaculum ibi Lupus near the outskirts of Rome itself. In those two strongholds were vast amounts of wealth that had been collected for over one thousand years. Over time, the vampires had added much of their own treasure as well. Also, each stronghold had an ever-advancing, ever-growing armory - enough weapons to sustain an army or even a nation if need be...

That was why William Greystoke had come to Aldeia Lobisomem in the first place. It was not to enjoy the company of his own kind. Needless to say, a small group of his own kind escaped with him from Haus des Jägers and had been with him since... a few warriors, council members, etc... but not enough to lead an all out assault on Greystoke Manor or Habitaculum ibi Lupus.

He needed more... He needed an army...

@the_psyentist: @she-wolf:

Sorry this is so late D:

"You think you could do worse to me than what's already been done?" Natalia remained calm as she scoffed at Myka, raising a finely-shaped brow in studied bemusement. "You think that I haven't seen the biggest and the baddest out there?" It was bravado, but it was damn fine bravado on her behalf.

In truth, Natalia had never been tortured. At least not physically. She thought that physical torture would be easier than what she'd gone through alone, though. But those were dark thoughts, and of no use to her at this current moment in time.

"You talk too much, little wolfie. All these fine monologues about how delicious I taste..." She let a moment of silence hang at the end of the last sentence before lowing her voice to a sensuous growl. "Are you sure you're not just jealous of Casimiro?"

The corner of her lip curved up in a smirk, revealing just a hint of white teeth. A mischievous, almost malicious, spark lit up her grey eyes as the yellow continued to bleed out, returning them to their normal resting state. "Do your best....please. At least it would relieve the insufferable boredom of having to listen to these seemingly empty threats."

Natalia cast a gaze about the room, analyzing the angles even through the dimming darkness. Calculating the amount of force it would take her to break free, to pour on her speed, to shift and to escape. And then comparing it to how simple it could be to allow Myke to commence with torture, and seize the moment after lulling her into a sense of dominant superiority.

@natalia_dante: No problem. I've been binging on this fantasy stuff anyway. LOL

Now I wanna save her.

Hurmm, wanted to have Blake fight Casimiro at some point anyway...

@_sapphire_: Appreciate the offer, but I've already got something in mind ;)

I've been binge reading books lately lol. I think I've read six or so in the last month.

@natalia_dante: Whatever floats your boat, I'm still kicking Casimiro's arse though :S