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Post by August Jensen on Jan 7, 2010 19:30:50 GMT 1
August was glad that Scotty didn’t try to resist when he insisted they go after Fin. He didn’t think he could handle the search alone and he wouldn’t even have been able to gather the courage to venture into the dark and cold of the streets of Hogsmeade if he hadn’t had Scotty’s company. August might have the courage to trust people, but he definitely wasn’t brave and wandering around outside at night was something that made him nervous. Anything could be lurking around the next corner and so having somebody he could trust to back him up was comforting.
He managed a smile as Scotty agreed with his plan of action, almost back to his usual happy self just from one little bit of encouragement. It was all going to be okay, they’d find Fin and go back to the castle. If he was very lucky (and August was fairly certain he would be because he’d found a knut on the ground on the way down to the pub) Scotty and Fin might even sort their differences in the process. But that optimism didn’t protect him from the fact that he was about to venture into a creepy alleyway and the way he shivered as he pulled out his wand to light the tip couldn’t entirely be attributed the cold.
”Lumos.” August muttered, glancing over at Scotty only to find the Gryffindor had already headed down his own path. Too late to change his mind now, even if he wanted them to stick together he was already alone. He held his wand high, trying to light as much of the alleyway as he could with the glow as he began to walk at a steady pace. August didn’t allow himself to hesitate, knowing that if he stopped for even a second he might wimp out and retreat back to the castle.
When he spotted the silhouette of a person a little way ahead, hope rose in his chest. ”Fin!” August called out, picking up the pace to reach her. Finding her had been easier than he’d thought it would be. But, upon hurrying closer, he realised that it wasn’t Fin at all, but a man. ”I’m sorry, sir.” He apologised slightly breathlessly, unable to shake off the optimism that thinking he’d found her had instilled in him. So it wasn’t Fin, that didn’t matter, this guy might have seen her. ”I’m looking for my friend, have you seen anybody run past here?”
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 7, 2010 20:18:05 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] Oh Jesus shit to the motherfucking Hell.
Okay, yes, Silas did have a fucking reason to drop as many goddamn swearwords as he could think of.
A month. No, more than. It had taken more than a fucking month. Books, research papers, documents, up to his goddamn neck in work. All that time. All that time and now he suddenly didn’t have any fucking seconds left to spare.
Mary mother of fuck on a spit. This had to be a huge fucking cosmic joke. What the hell else could it be?
He’d always known the experiment he was planning was going to be tricky. He’d known that before he’d even picked up his first book on the topic. What he hadn’t expected for there to be some huge mass of cosmic bullshit about planetary alignments and other fuckery that needed to be just friggin perfect for everything to work.
Dear Jesus, God in Heaven, who knew making a horcrux would be this fucking fiddly.
He’d spent weeks cracking the code. Numbers, charts, brainbreaking piles of cryptic clues. He’d even been working on it yesterday before a little interruption with a vampire set him back a day. So he’d picked it up again tonight where he’d left off, finished finding exactly where Mars was supposed to be, crosschecked the current location of the planets to see when his window to perform the ritual opened up, aaaand...
An hour. He had a fucking hour. Worse than that, the ritual itself took fifty minutes to complete. That meant he had ten fucking minutes to find a sacrifice.
Ten. Fucking. Minutes. To find someone. Kill them. Move them.
Fuck.
And if he didn’t do it now?
Shit, he could be waiting years for the next opportunity for all he fucking knew. He didn’t have time to stop to think. Nor to plan. Nor hell, to prepare anything. He needed to move, now.
The crushing discomfort of Apparation passed, leaving only a blast of cold air and the dull glow of a streetlight. Hogsmeade? Shit, he was supposed to be in London! What had made him think of there instead? He’d thought of London first – plenty of people – then he’d thought of people he’d like to kill, then Dacian sprang to mind, who lived in Hogsmeade, and—Damnit.
Before he could vanish again a voice carried over on the air.
“Lumos.”
Oh you had got to be kidding.
Hogsmeade was not a good place for this. The village was too small, attention would be drawn from everywhere, yet what if he left and he couldn’t find someone else? Everything would be for nothing. There was only one wand-light showing one pair of legs. The back-street they were in was empty. It was too fucking perfect, but—Fuck.
The owner of the wand grew closer and Silas half-raised a hand as though to keep the light out of his eyes.
“I’m looking for my friend, have you seen anybody run past here?”
The voice was unfamiliar. So was the face. A complete randomer. No witnesses. Nothing to link him to the boy’s disappearance.
... Oh, to hell with all of it.
Silas’s hand gripped his wand, lifting it to aim squarely at the boys chest.
“Singulus is animus ex populus sic ego mos ago iterum.”
Separate this soul from the host so I will live again.
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Post by August Jensen on Jan 8, 2010 13:23:21 GMT 1
August didn’t recognise the man; he wasn’t one of the local shop keepers, most of whom the seventh year now knew well enough to have a quick chat with, which had as much to do with his friendly nature as the length of time he’d been at the school. Had he been a little more suspicious he might have wondered why the man was lurking around one of the rarely traversed side streets at night, but instead August was just grateful to have found somebody who might be able to help. He felt a little safer too; with an adult wizard around he didn’t have to worry about being attacked by some terrible monster.
The stranger has his hand up to shield his eyes from the light at the tip of August’s wand, making it impossible to read the his expression and August was polite enough to lower his arm, the bright spell slightly less blinding now that it wasn’t being held at eye-height. The man already had his wand in hand and for a moment as he lifted it the Hufflepuff assumed he was indicating the direction he’d seen Fin run. He half turned his head, checking over one shoulder to see if there were any turnings off the alley he’d missed that the stranger could be pointing at.
And then the spell hit.
For a few long, drawn out seconds it looked as though it hadn’t had any effect at all; August stood motionless and silent, the only indication that he had registered what had happened was his eyes going wide with surprise. But he could feel it, like a coldness sweeping over him, not unlike the sensation of walking through a ghost, except it started in the centre of his chest and bloomed outwards, spreading through each and every limb until it reached the tips of his fingers and toes. He gasped, drawing in a sharp and desperate breath as he turned his gaze back to face the stranger, shock and betrayal clear across his face.
The breath didn’t help; his lungs still felt like ice and the sensation was still spreading, so cold it was starting to burn. August put his wand-hand to his chest, the lumos spell wavering and dimming considerably as his concentration broke, his fingers gripped tightly around the wooden handle of his wand as he pressed his fist to his sternum. It was as though he was literally trying to push the cold away from his frantically beating heart. But again his actions had no effect and his knees buckled, the hand that wasn’t clutching at his chest going out to break his fall.
On his knees, fingertips of one hand pressing against frozen cobblestones to keep him from collapsing entirely, August whimpered, the sound barely audible even in the eerie silence of the alleyway. He had to fight it, if he could just keep the cold at bay for a little longer... He lifted his head to look at the stranger again, finding it nearly impossible to focus on the figure before him in the increasing gloom of the alley. ”Help me!” August choked out, feeling tears welling in his eyes and blurring his vision further.
The Hufflepuff was struggling against the inevitable and ice ripped through him, feeling like it was tearing him apart as his limbs finally gave out. A shudder wracked the boy’s body, the wand slipping from his fingers and going out as it clattered gently to the ground. The last thing August saw, surprisingly clear in the sudden darkness, were the polished shoes and neatly creased trousers of the man. And then his eyes went blank.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 8, 2010 14:38:56 GMT 1
For an agonizingly drawn out moment it looked like nothing was happening. The boy in the alley kept standing, the light from his wand providing too much glare to see his expression clearly despite him having lowered it a little bit earlier.
What if the incantation was wro—No. It couldn’t be. He’d had far too many weeks at his disposal to memorise it and like fuck he’d just screwed things up now. It was correct, he knew it was, so why wasn’t anythi—
The kids wand dropped again, the movement far too jerky to have been intentional. His was face was contorted in shock, a bizarre mixture of fear and incredulousness. So either the spell was working or he thought some madman was chanting Latin at him.
Silas stepped closer out of curiosity as a gasp tore from the strangers lips. Not one of realisation, but of pain. Of panic. Fear. Silas's lip curled in a victorious smirk.
The wandlight moved as the kid put his hand to his chest, the light flickering ominously. Silas’s gaze was glued to the boy as he was painstakingly brought to his knees, battling an internal force only he could feel. No one that got hit with that spell ever survived. There was no documentation on what it felt like. Silas could only guess, and from what he could see, it didn’t look pleasant.
Interesting.
And then a voice. Weak. Pleading. Teary. “Help me.” Desperate and pathetic.
Talk about a flair for the dramatic. Oh sure, let’s ask the one who did this to you to save your life. That’ll go down well.
Oh well, the desperate always did lose all common sense first.
And with that, the spark of life died from the boys eyes.
Pity. He was actually rather cute.
Time to get out of here. Now. Silas stepped over to the body, mentally wracking himself to think of a place to store it temporarily. He just needed to move it to somewhere discreet, finish the ritual, then go back to dispose of it properly. He couldn’t leave it here, the fact they were in the middle of a street aside. A spell like that left detectable magical traces which was the last thing he needed.
He was just about to take the body with him when a voice called out behind him.
... Well, fuck.
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Post by Scotty Kovac on Jan 8, 2010 14:44:57 GMT 1
Breath still ragged from all the emotion of the night, the boy crept along until a figure moving up ahead in the gloom made him stop. Slowly he raised his wand to see it was a man standing with his back to him and he was standing over something large sprawled across the ground. No, not something, someone! The light from Scotty’s wand illuminated the pale face of someone he knew all too well. August’s wide lifeless eyes stared straight at the Gryffindor, making his wand clatter to the ground in shock and disbelief. Scotty couldn’t move, couldn’t believe that August was dead and at the feet of a stranger whose face he couldn’t quite see.
”Who are you? What are you-‘ before he could finish the man turned but didn’t say anything. Instead a flash erupted through the alley and an incredible pain blossomed throughout Scotty’s body. All over he could feel a warmth spread as blood poured from the cuts the spell had inflicted. With an agonised cry the boy dropped to the ground, consciousness fading. Through his blurred vision he could see Fin hiding behind something. He tried desperately to whisper for her to run but all that came from his mouth was a trickle of blood.
This was it, he was dying and the more his sight darkened the more peaceful it was. Part of him wanted to slip away but no, he couldn’t do it to his family, to his friends and to all the others he cared about. No, he would not die tonight and that’s what he thought desperately over and over through the pain and the fear. Desperately he fought to breathe and to stay awake, focusing on the light at the end of the alley. Coughing and spluttering Scotty saw the stranger stand over him out of the corner of his eye and then leave. It was after that the boy blacked out but still clung to life in cold winter’s night. [/justify]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 8, 2010 16:00:25 GMT 1
... Alright, that hadn’t been too bad.
Problem solved, apparently.
Silas’s wand lowered again as he squinted through the gloom to survey his handiwork. Okay, so the spell he’d used might have been a bit much, but hell, it wasn’t like he’d had a chance to stop and think about it. The boy had gone down faster than a fat kid rolling down a flight of stairs anyway, so no harm no foul.
Question was, where the hell had he come from? If he had of kept his mouth shut he might have just gotten away too. Idiot. Luck seemed to be on Silas’s side tonight and he wasn’t about to stop to question it.
Instead he strode over to what was left of the new arrival, digging his toe into the boys side none too gently. There wasn’t even a twitch or an intake of breath in response. Good enough. The knowledge he was on a strict time limit was at the forefront of his mind; there wasn’t any time to hang around. With the amount of blood flowing freely from the massive slash at the back of the kid’s jacket he was fucked anyway.
The only problem was there might be more where that one had come from. The tip of Silas’s wand flicked to life and he shone the light down the alley that Scotty had just come from, inadvertently lighting up his own face in the process.
There was no one there. Zilch, nadda, nothing. Just a nasty case of wrong place at the wrong time for whoever was now bleeding out at his feet.
Oh well. Collateral damage.
The light from the wand extinguished, throwing the same oppressive darkness back onto the scene. Without waiting a second he moved back to the body of the first boy, squatted down and grabbed the rapidly cooling arm. The second boy didn’t matter: there was nothing distinctive about the way he had died. This one though? This one couldn’t say, and Silas didn’t have the time to deal with two corpses. If the second body was still there when he returned he could go collect it, but for now, he was out of time.
And with that last thought, the two of them vanished on the spot.
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Post by Finlay Cassandra Mackenzie on Jan 8, 2010 17:10:01 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/2yotog1.png,true][atrb=background,http://i56.tinypic.com/9prvw0.png][atrb=style,padding:0px 50px;background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] The fact he couldn't let her go either made the proverbial wound heal a little, made the pain numb somewhat but also made her realise how much she cared about him, which caused it's own pain. She had known, even before they'd slept together, they would never be together, he didn't see her that way. His verbal confirmation was something she already knew, she was the sister, the best friend. And yet, even though that night had caused so many problems, she didn't really regret it, at least she would have the memories.
And the kiss, she didn't expect him to return it, the boy wasn't stupid. It was more for her benefit than his. This was a kind of goodbye, a goodbye to her crush on him, to the friendship they had. Even if they did reconcile, it could never be what it was, it would always be different; that night constantly lingering in the backs of their minds, weighing on what they said to each other, what they did to one another. The friendly bear hugs would become awkward, any connection, hand holding, nudging, would always be weird.
At least he forgave her, she mumbled it back, forgiving him for his part in what had happened between them. Then he took her hand... and it wasn't as awkward as she thought it would be. She followed, wandering through the alley behind him as they went in search of her other best friend. Poor thing, Auggie wasn't exactly the bravest thing, Fin could remember him getting her in the forbidden forest, jumping at the slightest sound. The fact he had gone on his own in search of her made Fin smile, how could she have ever tried dumping him off. When they got back to school, she was going to grab a tub of ice cream, a flask of hot chocolate and snuggle with him on the common room sofa. For the first time in a long time she really considered herself to be lucky. Honest to God, why had she spent her years drinking and drugging herself into a stupor? She had missed out on how good these two were to her.
Staring into the dark alley, Fin frowned as Scotty told her to stay where she was. Like hell she was doing that! For one, Auggie was down there, and two, she wasn't going to let Scotty go alone after him. He was already in the alley, his wand illuminating the brickwork, as Fin followed. She kept a few paces behind him when she saw his features change, ~Who are you? What are you-~. Fin flinched, jumping so her back thudded against the brick alcove and she slid down, covering her hands over her ears as she huddled, hiding in the darkness of the dent in the wall. She stuck her head out, her face was a portrait of crippling fear and shock as she watched Scott hit the floor. The blood, seeping through his clothes, the cry that came strangled from his throat, it all struck every muscle fibre in her body, making her feel weak and heavy. She couldn't run, her legs wouldn't let her. The sight of the blood trickling from her mouth made burning tears stream down her cheeks. She had to stay safe, she had to. She had to get help. She had to get them out of there.
She didn't notice the shadow approaching Scott until the man was standing over him. Fin felt her stomach knot, her breath catch in her lungs as Silas all but kicked the body of her best friend. What had he done!? Where was August!? She twisted back into the alcove, her damp hands covering her mouth and nose to hold in the sobs that threatened to give away her position. Silas couldn't have killed Scotty, but why was he not getting help!? Why was he kicking the body!!? What would he do to her if he found her? She wasn't risking it. She didn't dare to even breathe as light flooded the alleyway, stopping just short of where she was. Curling tighter, Fin tucked herself away to make sure none of her could be seen, waiting with baited breath until the light died and she could hear footsteps hurrying away.
Scurrying out, she moved quietly to the edge of the alley, edging out in time to see Silas, complete with Auggie in arms, disappear. She felt cold, numb. The look in August's eyes, the dullness of them... he was gone. That left her and Scott in the alley, his blood pouring from his wounds, staining his clothes and the pavement around them. Tentatively, Fin moved closer, her hand reaching out to touch his face. Tears blurred her vision as a guttural cry left her, held in through the fear and now allowed out to grieve. "Scotty....?" She sobbed as his blood covered her hands, pulling them up to stare in disgust and despair. She didn't dare move him, she couldn't. "Scotty please... wake up..." |
[/b] Fin only saw two choices, go and get help, or stay. As much as she wanted to go and get help, she couldn't bring herself to leave him, what if someone did something to his body? What if Silas came back for him? Pulling her wand from her pocket, Fin bit back the sobs that were still wracking her body, making her shake and shudder as they gripped her. Why them? Why the two people she loved? Why Silas? She had looked up to him! She needed to get help. Raising her wand, Fin gasped out the spell that sent shots of colour from her wand into the sky like some gaudy firework. That should get attention. Her fingers brushed against Scott's cheek as she felt her heart break all over again, causing Fin to curl over Scott's body and scream for help, letting everything out as her fingers gripped his bloodied top. Mixed with tears, sobs and wails, Fin's scream carried from the cold, abandoned alley, out into Hogsmeade[/justify][/size][/color][/font][/td][/tr][/table] [/center]
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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Jan 10, 2010 11:07:24 GMT 1
Sparks?
Vivian blinked up at the sky again with a frown. A brilliant mess of red lights – like a firework, almost – had just sprung up against the night sky on the other side of the village. They shot up above the roofs, glowing brightly like a beacon before softly fading away. The sight of them sent a surge of apprehension running through her.
That wasn’t right. That was a warning sign. A beacon for help. Pretty as they were – bright fiery red against the black sky – they never meant anything good.
Surely there was someone else who could— Vivian looked down both sides of the pitifully empty street on either side of her. Okay no. Just her. She gave the signal a doeful look again. Whatever it was she—
A sharp scream made Vivian yelp and almost jump out of her skin. A deep, anguished cry which sent a chill down her spine in a manner that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Oh God. Not good.
She wasn’t even thinking when she took off running. Hell, she didn’t even know how far away the scream was. Suddenly gaining enhanced senses had drastically thrown off her perception of the distance of sound. She would put money on where it had come from though, so she ran for the spot the lights had disappeared so quickly she could barely see the buildings as they blurred past. She knew Hogsmeade better than any map.
The smell of blood hit her before she saw anything and it made her slow down to a slow jog. What was – Oh God. Thick, metallic, so heavy in the air she could almost choke on it. God, it was everywhere. Her stomach seemed to roar to life in response, gnawing, wanting. There were two heart-beats. One was racing, almost explosive while the other was so faint and fluttering the first one almost drowned it out.
Another cry from the scene, so loud to her sensitive hearing Vivian cringed in pain. Female voice.
... She knew that voice.
Vivian picked up speed again, rounding one of the corners so fast she almost slipped and fell.
The sight hit her with the force of the titanic. The instinctive breath she tried to pull was choked. Everything... just...
Scotty. Just... there on the floor, and—Oh God. Blood. So much blood. She’d never seen so much blood.
“SCOTTY!”
The shriek tore from her throat in terror and disbelief. She was at the ground beside him so quickly skin was torn from her hands as they hit the floor when she got to her knees near his side. He wasn’t—No. Oh please no. He was alive, but—No.
Fin was forgotten. The fact that ten minutes ago she hated him for being a cheating bastard was forgotten. Scotty, oh God, oh please no.
“Scotty! Bozhe net, pozhalujsta! SCOTTY! NET!”
She didn’t know where to touch. Her hands ghosted over him as though afraid anything would be the end of him. It was impossible to see how bad the wound on his back was. Blood. Too much blood. Everywhere.
His heart sped slightly... ever so slightly... then God, no, please, it was worse again. He was fading... Please no...
“Don’t you DARE!” she half screamed, her voice almost strangled, tears tinged pink with blood starting to fall down her own face. Her fists hit the cobblestone again with enough force to rip more skin from her hands but the pain barely registered.
Blood was everywhere. Spilling onto the floor. All over his jacket. Soaked through his clothes. Pouring from the gaping tear on the back of his clothing. There wasn’t... she couldn’t... this much damage. She couldn’t heal this much damage. And Scotty was... Scotty. Oh Jesus.
She threw Finlay a look wrought with anguish. In any other situation she would have been furious, or at least wondered why Scotty was out with her again, but for now she was just glad that someone, anyone was here.
But Finlay couldn’t help.
Dacian. What had Dacian sa—
Scotty’s next heat-beat took far too long.
She didn’t want to. She couldn’t. But no—Scotty... he... the blood was dribbling out his mouth now and Vivian cried harder at the sight, burying her face in her bloody hands. She could barely even believe she was capable of the distraught noise tearing from her own throat.
Scotty! Oh Jesus please!
She was babbling in Russian now, saying things that were probably nonsensical to every language on the planet as she leant over him gingerly, reaching up to lift him to half turn him around and pull him onto her lap. Scotty. Oh God. She had to—had to do something. Anything. And he was— Scott..
She was wracked by another sob.
There was—
She—
She didn’t know what else to do.
She held off as long as possible. His heartbeat was slipping away like sand, Fin’s was slamming into her head like a bass drum. They were going to lose him. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t. Scotty wasn’t going to die. God she could never let herself let him die. There was no time. He was going to—
Feeling like the scum of the Earth, Vivian pulled her lips back, revealing a set of fangs for scarcely a second before she hunched over and sunk them into Scotty’s throat, the taste of his blood – tainted and vile with the knowledge of what she was doing – filling her mouth.
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Post by Finlay Cassandra Mackenzie on Jan 10, 2010 14:06:58 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/2yotog1.png,true][atrb=background,http://i56.tinypic.com/9prvw0.png][atrb=style,padding:0px 50px;background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] He was dead. He was... Scotty... he was there, his body was there but without Viv's heightened senses Fin couldn't hear his fading heartbeat, couldn't see the way his chest rose and fell mere millimeters. As far as the Hufflepuff was concerned, her best friend, her unrequited love, was dead, slaughtered before her eyes by a man she had known of for years, who worked with her own father. Fin could feel her mind warping, bending to breaking point with the weight of it all. She just wanted it to all go away, go back to when she wandered into the pub, if only she hadn’t run, if she’d stayed they would both be okay. August, oh God August! Both of them? She wanted them both back, she wanted to wake up and find this had been a really bad trip on whatever she was taking at the time.
She didn’t see Viv approaching until she heard the girl scream for the fallen boy, skidded to her knees beside him. Fin tried to clear her vision, blink away the tears, but more seemed to cascade in every time. She kept her hands on his top, her fingers gripped tightly into the fabric as if she was trying to cling to him, bring him back. A momentary wave of relief at seeing the familiar girl faded, hearing her rant in whatever language that was.
Fin couldn’t help but keep sobbing, her eyes moving from Viv, back to Scotty, Viv, Scott, Viv, Scott. Viv seemed as lost as she was, unable to touch the boy’s body. Crying out in pain, Fin still hadn’t clicked exactly why Viv had reacted that way. Her vision was too narrowed, seeing Scotty like that, Auggie gone but his state she had seen, she knew he was gone. Those two, the two who had never let her down, who had stuck by her through everything… they were gone.
Seeing the look Viv gave her, Fin’s heart stopped. That look was something she had seen on her grandmother’s face when she had cried for her husband. It was a look of someone who had loved. Fin went cold, the chill numbing her body as her fingers uncurled from his shirt and she crawled backwards. Her back hit the wall and she curled up, pulling her knees to her chest. Shit. It was her. She was the one his heart belonged to. She was…
Oh God.
Fin sobbed harder, unable to do anything else. All she could do was weep for the boy she loved, but who never loved her back that way, he had loved her, Viv. Watching, she felt her heart break as Viv pulled him into her lap, but she couldn’t hear anything Viv was saying, all she could hear was her own heart beat thundering in her chest and the sobs that echoed around her head. Running her bloodied hands into her hair, Fin pulled, slamming her eyes closed as her chest began to ache, a dull pain that grew with every shuddered howl that left her lips. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t lose August. It was too much. She needed to tell them so much! Silently, she prayed to every deity she could think of. Let him be okay, let him live, and she would change. She wouldn’t be bad anymore, she’d let him go, he could love Viv, he could marry her, he could spend the rest of his life with her, if they just brought him back.
Opening her eyes, she saw Viv’s head bend down towards him and it made her stomach churn, made her gag. She had thought she was kissing him, but then her mind caught up with her. Fangs… Viv had fangs… and she was spending a lot of time kissing…
Oh. Holy. Fuck. She was feeding off him. SHE WAS KILLING HIM!!
Feeling an incredible sense of protection, she moved forward, her hands gripping onto his clothes as she tried to tug him away from the vampire. She was weak though, normally she wouldn’t have been able to beat a vampire’s grip but now was even worse, all she could do was let her hands slide over the wet material as she sobbed out a plea for Viv to stop, to just leave him alone. |
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Post by Vivian Nazarova on Jan 12, 2010 18:32:08 GMT 1
She didn’t know what she was doing, had no idea when to stop, how much to drink, or if the fact he had bled so much already changed anything. She was scared, terrified to take too much, terrified of what she would have to do, terrified of how cold Scotty felt in her grasp. He—the blood was getting harder to draw. He had so little left... so little. She could never seem to get a good enough purchase with her teeth and so she kept biting.
There were hands on her back. Clawing, trying to rip her away. Vivian’s head snapped around, lips pulled back in an absolutely feral snarl, fangs bloodied, eyes wide, mouth soaked with blood dribbling down her lips, and for a moment she looked more like the monster she was rather than a distraught fifteen year old girl.
“UHODITE!” she roared, blood splitting from her mouth, causing Fin to shrink away in response.
There was no time for Fin. No time to explain what was going on. No time to be kind or patient. There was no time; Scotty’s heart... it... Vivian froze for a horrified second. Where was his heartb—No. There it was. More a twitch of the muscle than an actual beat but oh God..
She didn’t hesitate this time. It needed to be done. Her own fangs sank into her wrist and Vivian gave a cry of pain. Bad idea. Hurt shot through her arm and Vivan pulled back with a sharp hiss. Ow! Damnit! She was crying harder now, both from the force of her own bite and from everything else that had happened so far. It was too much... just too much.
She wasn’t bleeding. Not as she was supposed to. Blood, thick, dark and almost coagulated softly oozed from the wound and Vivian began frantically pushing down her arm to draw it out. What little there was she attempted to share, frantically trying to force it into Scotty’s mouth but she realised the flaw in her plan almost immediately as the blood started dribbling past his lips. She had no means to make him swallow. How was he... Oh God.
She was out of her depth. So far out of her depth. She needed Dacian. Dacian had done this before when she was unconscious. He’d know what to do. He was scary, and terrifying, and infuriating, but he’d know what to do. She needed help.
Vivian did kiss Scotty this time. Just hard and fast once on the cheek before laying him down gently back on the cobbles, still sobbing. Her legs didn’t seem to want to listen to her command to get to her feet and Vivian staggered back.
Just... seeing him there... so much blood.
Head. She needed to get her head in order... Needed to find—
“He’s alive,” Vivian managed to choke out, unable to even look at Finlay this time. “He’s alive, but he’s...”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence either.
“Help. He needs... I’ll go get help.”
Her brain kicked back into functioning, her limbs following suit. Having a goal helped. She started to run. Frantically. Anywhere. Where would Dacian be? If he wasn’t at the Hogs Head then she was out of luck. The pounding of her feet was heavy in her own ears and it was lucky she didn’t need to breathe because she hadn’t exhaled even once.
Where was Dacian?
Vivian sped up. She wasn’t thinking. She was starting to panic. Every second was a waste of Scotty’s life. Where was Dacian? He needed to be here. Please may he be here. Even Ed would do in a pinch, but, God, where was Dacian?
Unfortunately, while she wasn’t thinking, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings either. Not a good thing with super-speed. Vivian barrelled around a corner only to crash face first into something vaguely solid. With a shriek she bounced off, the back of her head hitting the cobblestones with the kind of loud crack that couldn’t possibly mean anything good.
Her vision went black, sort of fading out and then back in again, this time with a large amount of white lights flashing in front of her eyes.
Owww.
Vivian whimpered. Ow. That was—
Scotty.
The thought roused her again as she attempted to struggle to her feet, vision still straining to return to normal. She had to get Dacian. Had to get—
Dacian?
Vivian’s jaw dropped open. Oh Holy Lord in Heaven. She’d just crashed into the man, rather spectacularly by the feel of the back of her head. She felt bleeding and her hand automatically went to check. Sure enough, it was damp under her fingers. It didn’t matter. She’d heal. But Scotty—
“Dacian! Pozhaluĭsta, pomogite!” she babbled through a mass of tears as she struggled to stand, pawing on her knees at his arm. “It’s Scotty! Somesing happened! Pozhaluĭsta! He’s nearly dead!” The words were harder to get out. Each one was a labour. With the amount she had just started to freshly cry again it was a wonder she could even see at all. “Dacian! POZHALUĬSTA” she wailed, almost howling.
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