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| Welcome To The Night You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality. This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories. Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness. Create Your Account! If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| You know the way that I hide for you.; [Sawyer] | |
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| Topic Started: Thursday, 24. October 2013, 00:12 (2,335 Views) | |
| Sawyer | Saturday, 9. November 2013, 08:16 Post #21 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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He shivered slightly when she nipped at his ear, smile brightening even further when he saw his expression reflected on her face. Just like that, any lingering doubts or fears about the coming weeks vanished from his mind. If she could smile after tonight, then nothing was lost at all. They'd make it through this just fine. If the pair of them could keep smiling, than nothing could hurt them. Or so he figured. "I love you, too. I ain't goin' anywhere, not yet. Although..." Voice trailing off, she bit her lip, rolling it in a way that he couldn't help but find absolutely adorable. Sheepishly, she looked him over, a bit of playful guilt lingering in her golden eyes. "Y'know, I've probably ruined your clothes with sewer water. Damn." Ha. He leveled a mock serious gaze at her, mouth quirking into a smirk. "Damn indeed, sweetheart. You got sewer water on a Nossie. Holy shit, what a crime." There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, fangs nipping at the curve of her neck. His kisses were a bit more insistant this time, traveling lower, tracing the way from her collarbone to her sternum as she suppressed a soft giggle. Was she ticklish? He couldn't help but smile, pressing his lips to her cold skin as he spoke. "Yup, you'll owe me for this one..." When he raised his head again, it wasn't her eyes that he noticed first. He froze, looking up to meet the somewhat horrified gaze of Damon Church. Sawyer instantly drew back from Aguirre, attempting to look as innocent as possible, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Surely he could just laugh this one off, right? But... what exactly had Church seen? Everything?! God, it figured he'd show up at the most awkward possible moment, didn't he? "Oh," Sawyer said simply, blue eyes widening. He blinked like a deer caught in the headlights, Aguirre's hands still held lamely in his own. "Oh, hi, Church. Good to... ah... see you! Uhm. Have you... uh... been there long?" He gave a weak chuckle, a very obvious blush spreading across the freckled cheeks of his mask. Poor Aguirre. Sure, he was embarrassed, but it was mostly on her behalf- after all, who'd ever want to get caught with the likes of him? Especially not in such an intimate moment, visible proof that this was more than just two kids messing around. A willing blood bond was a commitment, the sort of thing nobody ought to witness, and hell, the very fact she'd consent to bonding with a sewer rat... Well, suffice it to say, he sure wouldn't blame Church if he thought the two of them were goddamn nuts. And the guy would probably be absolutely right. Just smile 'n wave, Sawyer. Just smile 'n wave... |
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Tuesday, 12. November 2013, 01:27 Post #22 |
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Mouse
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Despite the fact that things were most definitely not okay right now, they seemed to be. They seemed better than okay, with the residual taste of Sawyer's blood still lingering on her taste buds and flooding her head with a content blur of nonsense. For the first time in years, she was okay with things being opaque, so long as he was willing to weather the inconsistent future with her. Whether he actually knew it or not, she would certainly be there to see him through the tough time they had to stress about. Aguirre pulled back an inch or two, mostly playfully, as he kissed downward--though she couldn't get away, not with his arms still around her, even if she wanted to. She didn't, not until her lovely Nosferatu straightened up, only to look instantly alarmed and pull away from her completely, minus half heartedly grasping her hands. Her initial reaction was disappointment at the fact that he'd cut the moment short, though it was followed quite shortly by confusion as to why he had done such a thing. "Oh, hi, Church. Good to... ah... see you! Have you... uh... been there long?" Church. No. No fuckin' way. La la la la la la la I didn't hear that, la la la Aguirre's not here right now, come back later-- "So...yeah." With eyes like saucers and the faintest little 'meep' that was vaguely bordering on a whimper, she tensed back up to her usual mouse-like self and stood up quickly, turning on Damon with an expression mixed up in ten different emotions she couldn't quite enunciate through the embarrassment that seemed to blanket everything else. It really wasn't embarrassment--she wasn't ashamed of being caught with Sawyer by any means, more like ashamed of being caught in such an absolutely private and unusually intemperate moment. She stuffed her hands deep into her pockets, eyes directed at her feet. She wouldn't be making eye contact with her roomie for a very, very long time. She'd locked the dead bolts on the door specifically so that she'd know when Church was coming in, but apparently he managed to get around that safeguard without making a single fucking noise. She wasn't sure exactly how much he had actually seen. How could she lie when she wasn't sure what he'd already heard, and knew full well he'd kick her ass for trying to pull one over on him? "I-I, uh.. I.. Imighthavetakenatriptothewarrens," she said very quickly and in the smallest voice possible. Was it really him that owed money to the douchebag jar at this point? And exactly what did he want to know when he asked 'what da fuck'? It was a very nondescript question, and she didn't know how the hell to answer. What was she supposed to tell him? That she'd pissed off the Nosferatu Primogen, gotten Sawyer kicked the fuck out, and brought him here? And how was she supposed to ask that Church let him stay when the whole thing was her fault, first of all, and second of all, Sawyer didn't want the help? When she finally managed to give a glance to the other Brujah, neglecting to meet his eyes but still looking over his person with a raised brow before letting her gaze drop again, she asked in a very quietly puzzled tone, "Why are you.. covered in sparkles?" Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Tuesday, 12. November 2013, 01:29.
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| Church | Wednesday, 13. November 2013, 00:37 Post #23 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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This right here. This is amazing. I kinda stopped feeling anxious around Aguirre when she started living with me, cause bitch is crazy enough right there. But after what I, albeit unwillingly, revealed to her, a sliver of that darkness I have tucked away...and surprisingly well tamed. So I may have acted more like my real self, my asshole self, from beyond that point without fear of prejudice. She understands, she can take it. Not saying I'm trying to be an asshole, or I ever am spiteful to her. Some gentle ribbin' never hurt...but this won't be gentle. Sawyer on the other hand...I don't really give as much a shit about. But the second his dumb ass looked at me...Jebus If only I coulda taken a freakin' picture. Oh boy oh boy. I shall forever feel the corner of my mouth twitch into a smirk whenever I see his, well, ugly ass. As for the whole situation...jeez I wish I didn't know. That's a definite start. I don't want an overabundance of knowledge, especially the content of such cringy material. But I had to be the usual motherfucker and creep in, scared that a certain fedora-wearing shotgun-wielding maniac is waiting. Which would have been as awkward as this right here, probably, but this was sure more unexpected, even though I'm a lot calmer. But hell, old habits. Can getcha into trouble. So I can lose my shit sometimes, and I don't like the idea of a rat getting so close. I don't like the drinking blood shit. But I've done exactly the same myself, and who the fuck am I to judge anyway? That and Mac thoroughly drained my metaphorical balls...definitely worked something out my system. Da fuck she just mumble at me? Whatever stupid smirk was niggling looking at these two deers about to get fucked up shifts away, cranks back up on that confusion dial. "Mac. She's a dick, what'd you say a trip to orang-warren? Warrens?" I look between the two of them, changing the conversation, well....cause. Switch off from smelling cause that shit is lethal right now and, if possible, look even more perplexed. Cause I sure am getting to that sneaky suspicion that I'm missing something here. Especially how ridiculously smooth and incognito she answered my question. That alone...what she up to? "The Warrens. As in your Warrens?" I shoot Sawyer a look, my face is hurting from the fucking jib it's frozen in. "Wh-Oh...k. You're...Are you allowed to do that?" I can't say I know all the ins and outs, all I know is I know a Nos who lives on the outside as well as works on the outskirts of the Camarilla territory. Rats gotta make deals with anyone and everyone if it keeps them in such good keep with the Cammies, right? So...should Sawyer be allowed to just take anyone down there? What if they see the big board? Well not anyone. They were locked in the sickest cuddle I ever did see. Which needs discussion. Seeing as I'm sticking around and, well, I live here. "Or is Warrens code for...your 'Love shack?'" Isn't that another code? Damn Church, you're dumb. |
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| Sawyer | Wednesday, 13. November 2013, 01:08 Post #24 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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Sawyer scrambled to his feet, still blinking in utter shock. Was that... glitter? Huh? Mac didn't seem the type to be very fond of that- and wait, Mac? Huh? God, of course Church would have a thing for her, a nice, sane thing that probably wasn't nearly as messed up as his relationship with Aguirre. Wonderful. "Love... shack?" The Nosferatu squeaked the words with a slight note of alarm, eyes growing even wider. "Erm. Well. No. By warrens, she means the warrens. And um, no. That's... not really... allowed." God, would he please stop looking at them like that? Sawyer had his pretty face on, and Church hadn't ever seen what was underneath. Apparently the Brujah, however, was imagining the worse anyway, judging by the creeped-out expression he was wearing. Surely he could at least be polite about it and go along with it. Oh hai Sawyer, you're totally not an undead sewer monster screwing around with my roommate, nice evening we're having, huh? Nothing to see here, move along. And on top of all of this, he was supposed to ask for permission to stay? Of course Church would say no. Anybody sane would object to him hanging around, and he couldn't blame Grandpa Vampire for running him off. At least it wouldn't be with a shotgun in hand, right? Wow, Aguirre, top notch planning on this one, he snarked internally, attempting a blasé smile. "Well, looks like you had a fun night at least, huh? Even if uh... ours was... problematic?" Another weak little chuckle. Shit. Small talk. How exactly were you supposed to small talk after that? |
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Wednesday, 13. November 2013, 20:27 Post #25 |
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Mac. Of course. Big surprise, there. Whatever got Church's rock's off, not that Aguirre would ever, ever want to know exactly what did. Besides, he quickly got away from that optimistic attempt at changing the topic, coming right back around to the one that currently had her tongue tied and afraid to say anything else that might get Sawyer in trouble. And for fucks sake, why did this have to be so awkward? She'd wanted to talk to Church when he came home, but not like this, especially since she'd intended to know when he came in. Everything felt like it was spinning farther and farther out of her control as the night went on, like she had no steady ground to stand on despite the fact that she could feel that hardwood floor beneath her bare feet. She found herself thinking the same damn thing she'd been thinking all night, the same thing she always thought when shit hit the fan. I should have never left the fuckin' studio apartment. I should have stay in there and rotted. Now she had no rock of her own to crawl under, and had just as well taken Sawyer's away from him by being more reckless and irresponsible than she'd let herself be in decades. Now that poor bastard was bound to her, and a decision like that? It was going to get him killed. People thought she was quiet, but mostly she just knew her own track record when it came to opening her mouth and making things worse than they already were. As it was, Aguirre could barely wrap her head around just how fucking uncomfortable this situation was, let alone string together a sentence to any helpful effect. Anyway, with the way Church's nose was curling up, she could assume that it would be difficult at best to listen past the smell of the sewers. Oh, good, she'd also brought sewer stink into the house. At least she had elected not to ruin her roommate's couch with it. "Or is Warrens code for... your 'Love shack'?" "Love... shack?" Sweet jesus. What the fuck. This night could get worse, but I'm not sure how. She was pretty sure she felt her jaw drop maybe a little, not that it made any difference in the situation. That unnerved squeak she heard from Sawyer made her grow even smaller under how uncomfortable this was. This didn't bode well for Aguirre still being allowed to live here, let alone for her counterpart being invited to stay, but any one word that came out of her mouth could be the nail in the coffin. She didn't trust herself to speak on Sawyer's behalf because honestly, with the way Church was looking at them both, it would only make things worse. No one should have wanted her to vouch for them, not looking quite so pathetic as she did right now. If she had been anywhere near wrapping her head around the situation before, that progress was gone now. "Well, looks like you had a fun night at least, huh? Even if uh... ours was... problematic?" Aguirre gave a sidelong glance to her lover, brow raised. And the understatement of the year award goes to.... Sawyer Flint! Damon knew damn well that it was an understatement, too, and she'd bet money on that. She was beyond the point of attempting to smooth this over, because after what her roomie had seen and heard? There was no smoothing that over. Why the fuck did she elect to have roommates anyway? Because she was scared of living alone after three decades? Huh, dat logic. Was fear gonna be her reason for fucking things up forever? "No, it ain't allowed. At all. That's the issue. I got him kicked out." She hadn't meant to, but that didn't mean she hadn't done it anyway. There was no reason to make excuses when it was entirely her fault. She still didn't raise her gaze, though, and fidgeted, looking a whole lot like she was about to run out the door and disappear. After all, one of the most common words her mother ever used for her was 'flighty'. Fickle and irresponsible. Her picture should have been next to that word in the dictionary. And fuck, she was starting to realize just how foul the night had left her feeling.. and smelling, not that she had any right to complain, or even give an opinion at this point. Finally her fidgeting turned into her feet taking her away toward the bathroom, deciding to remove at least one part of the tension and disaster from the room, with the wayward utterance of, "I need a shower." Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Wednesday, 13. November 2013, 20:30.
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| Church | Monday, 18. November 2013, 15:58 Post #26 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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Not...allowed? So, maybe my gut was right from opening that door. Maybe swallowing that feeling down and acting like a fucking human being was the wrong thing to do. Maybe I should grab that fuckers fangs and tear them out his skull. I'm still as confused about the whole situation, they have an awfully good way of being terribly vague with the details. Something I do myself, of course, but not in an infuriating manner that makes me wanna shake the truth out. I can just stare hard at the fidgeting fuckwits as they lather on more bullshit I don't wanna hear. Hell, it's hard to hear right now, whilst gears of thought grind to ignition despite the mental fucking and a fog of rage. I don't quite understand what it all means. Are they in trouble? If so, how much? I didn't think Nosferatu ever got kicked out unless the shit was damning. Leading an Anarch to the Warrens...probably damning. But at least it weren't a Sabbat, right? Silver fucking lining. "I need a shower" I can muster a quip about it needing to be a cold one, what I walked on initially amused me a little - now it turns my stomach. I follow her with my eyes, so curious about what's running through her head despite how pissed I might be at the very idea that she's in trouble. Cause I gotta stand by her, and if I need to spit in the face of the Camarilla to do it, you bet I'll do it. She would do the same for you. Maybe. I bet she wouldn't want me to do it, cause I sure wouldn't want it done for me. I probably neglect her worse than I did my own kid, off 'spelunking' with Mac or watching old flicks in a grump. Still, there is a flicker of this paternal illusion, that Aguirre is the best of us and that if I can keep her from slipping into the darkness, I would have contributed more to the earth than I ever could by myself. This...I shift my gaze back to Sawyer as my roommate disappears...this is the start of something dangerous. I stare at him a few moments before opening my mouth. I knew letting a rat in here would be, as he put it, problematic. I make sure to keep my voice to tamed audible levels; Aguirre doesn't need to hear this. "I know you well enough to know that you got a severe problem with talking complete and utter bullshit, but you're not helping me understand the situation to well." I don't know how, but that was surprisingly well spoken. Slow and deliberate words used to get through that thick fucking skull. "Cause here's the thing, Flint; you getting kicked out? Don't give a shit. That's nothing. You were allowed to walk out, so anything they did is minor. Or at least minor compared to what I'll do to you." I smile at that, cause I sure would enjoy crippling his freak ass. Because I'm a dick like that. I don't want it to be Sawyer, I don't want him to give me a reason. But they way they were both being so obscure with the details, the fact that they were drinking from each other like a fucking suicide pact or some shit...I advance a few steps during my questioning, but contrary to what he may think, I take a seat beside him. I'm not looking to give in to beating his ass till I'm certain he needs it. That's what friends do...right? |
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| Sawyer | Tuesday, 19. November 2013, 18:43 Post #27 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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Perhaps Sawyer should've been more intimidated by Church, but it had been a very long night, and his capacity to feel anything besides tired had severely diminished. As it was, he tried to relax, aware that this was in some ways an interrogation of sorts. Oh well, he'd be as honest as he could be. He had nothing in particular to loose, as he already figured that the older Brujah would be pretty keen on seeing his back walk out the door anyway after all that. "As you've prob'ly gathered, I'm an idiot," Sawyer said a little wryly. "I messed up big time. Promised her I'd take her to the warrens when I never should've, just 'cause she asked. Told her to wait for me, planned to sneak her in or somethin'. But have you tried tellin' her what to do lately? I'm not sure anyone can." He wasn't really willing to go into details past that. Church would probably flip if he knew just how banged up and bloody Aguirre had been when she finally stumbled into the warrens at his primogen's side. Sawyer could only guess what had happened in the mean time- it probably involved sewer gators and all sorts of other nasty things that no one should have to tangle with. He wondered with a shudder what would've happened if someone hadn't found her. If no one had known... "She's not really in trouble. So it's fine," he added, shrugging off his darker thoughts. " 'Cept I think she blames herself, which is stupid." As far as he was concerned, the fault lay in his hands. It had been his poor judgement that landed them in this situation in the first place. If he could help it, he'd frame her as innocent as possible in the whole affair. He'd just go somewhere else once Church inevitably told him to hit the road. He'd fended for himself before, and now would be no different. His voice was a little wistful when he spoke again. "She's so much better 'n me. Better 'n all of us. I... don't want her to lose that." |
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| Church | Wednesday, 20. November 2013, 18:10 Post #28 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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"As you've prob'ly gathered, I'm an idiot," You work that out by yourself Sherlock? At least I'm not the crazy asshole in the room thinking that Nosferatu were usually picked because they had something working hard between the ears. Then again, I hear they got a thing for fucking up pretty boys faces just 'cause. And as he recounts the tale, a promise that he made that he would show her the warrens, I'm inclined to believe the latter. Idiot. Fucking dumbass. Both of them. Why in the fuck did she want to even see that place? Y'know, if not stealing secrets. I peer through squinted eyes at his face, not sure how well the emotion translates onto an illusion of looking...normal. My tired eyes as full of weariness and woe than ever, because of stupid shit like this. And he goes so far as to say she isn't in trouble? That she's stupid for blaming herself? Sonofafuckingbitch! I almost say something but bite my tongue as the squirt sounds one last time, words thoughtful and...sad. Fucking assshole, speaking more and more sense with each passing moment. Giving me more reasons to throw his ass out this door and put up a 'no uggo's' sign outside. And all the while I can...understand. When I met I got the impression he was the lock sick puppy tagging along, I couldn't have predicted that Aguirre would have reciprocated to that. She seemed much too strung out. "She is better than you. Better than me. Better than the Prince of the fucking universe." Any of them fucking 'Princes', for sure. "And I know she ain't a babe, an' she can look after herself...But I don' know if you're capable of a thought between the pair of ya. Fact is, if I walked into that place I would expect to die. The fact that she didn't don' mean shit to me, cause far as I'm concerned, that shit was on the flip of a coin. An' she got lucky. An' if you're makin' each other stupid, to the point I look like a fucking genius, then you need to exercise some fucking brain power or get the fuck out for good." I end it there, glancing down the corridor to her bedroom, the faint jets of water from the bathroom halfway down we know a thing or two about showers Pleasant thoughts that need to be pushed aside for the moment. Cause this doesn't seem to be something simple; satisfying primal urges with Mac is different to what I walked in on. Love. Something we're not allowed to have. But that's for me to say. That's for these two to find out themselves. "You really love her? Cause I'm seriously wondering if you're retarded. An' this you're feeling right now?" Woah woah, am I doing this all the same? I've been in love. Thought I was in love. Or at least I've been spurned by fucking love. Uggh, Dr. Fanger is not a doctor in matters of love. Jebus. I can't help feel somewhat responsible, not that I will take any of the blame, but by being around more often surely I could've been there to lead the dumbasses; given what little advise I could on a matter I've had experience with. And at the same time, I could've gotten to know Flint a little bit more. We spoke very little during our time at the construction yard. The fact that he's a Cape will never sit well, but I could look past that. Provided shit like this never, ever fucking went down. Maybe if I had bothered to know him, yeah, I could be a little more understanding in this. But right now...he knows she's too good for him. But she doesn't feel that way. I wonder... "Or, and this is just an educated guess-" my tone shifts from pissed off concern to something malicious; blunt words I glance back down the corridor to make sure Aguirre isn't hearing. "-are you trying to get your dick wet after however many years looking and smelling like a pile of shit? Cause here comes a gal with a sweet ass and perky tits, who'll do almost anything for a stranger. Can't get her drunk, can't get drugged, so get her on the most addictive stuff of all. That the plan Flint?" God I hope that's not the plan. Merely projecting sickened thoughts of a man dead and buried who had played a similar game to that. A man who had used his blood to make sure he was loved. unquestionably. So I do hope he spits in my face, tells me it ain't like that and maybe gives me a slap for good measure. Seeing as the other option is he admits that I hit the nail on the head...and I gotta remove him from the equation by removing that head from his shoulders. |
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| Sawyer | Friday, 22. November 2013, 08:40 Post #29 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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He blinked. At first, everything the guy said was correct. He had been careless, so fucking stupid, putting her life in danger for no reason at all, for a whim. He deserved every curse for that, every insult or threat, deserved so much worse than Church would ever give him. But as soon as his tone turned dark and he spat out his version of a plan, Sawyer's blood started boiling. This was too much. Too goddamn much. After the night he'd had, the roller coaster of emotions, everything he'd lost and everything he'd gained, he couldn't believe he was hearing this. She meant so much more to him than... that, and horror dawned in his blue eyes with every snarled word that Damon threw at him. Of course that's what Church thought of him; how could he think anything else? A monster, a disgusting, twisted predator, preying on the kindness of a beautiful girl with nothing to offer in return but brutal cruelty, the sickest piece of shit out there. Of course. Because a Nosferatu couldn't be anything more than that, could they? Church must've expected him to yell, to protest, maybe even to throw a punch. But the Brujah probably didn't expect over two hundred pounds of distraught Nosferatu to hurl himself at him in a furious tackle, slamming him to the floor indignantly. "Don't talk about her like that! Shut up! She's not retarded, she's got twice as much brains as you'll ever have, and she sure as hell ain't- ain't-" His voice broke off into a sound of frustration, too flustered to have any chance at responding to Church's last statement in anything more than growls. "You're such a fuckin' douchebag, who even are you?!" His fists were balled in the fabric of Church's shirt, grip potently strong as he hollered each word with fervent conviction, believing unwaveringly in everything he said. "I love her 'cause of who she is. 'Cause when she was a kid, she'd pull pranks on her brothers and prob'ly took shit from no one, and 'cause she never did lose that spirit, even if she don't always believe that. 'Cause she ain't afraid to give me a concussion when I deserve it, which is all the fuckin' time. 'Cause she's brilliant and witty and makes people instantly care bout her, 'cause she cares about them. 'Cause she doesn't think about herself, never thinks about herself, does everything for other people. 'Cause somehow, she really does believe in me, however unlikely that seems. 'Cause she's good, goddamn it. "And if lovin' her means I gotta leave because I'm no good for her, that's cool, that's fine. I understand that. But don't ever say I'm doin' this for the wrong reasons." Sawyer's voice finally broke; he stared at Church, shaking his head as he released him and drew back, expecting a fist to knock his teeth out at any moment. Whatever. He'd earned any abuse, earned an endless amount of it, and he'd take any beating as long as it didn't have to come at her hands. Awareness that he'd gone way too far seemed to wash over him, and he sat docile as a lamb, jaw trembling slightly. "I didn't want her to. I shouldn't've let her. All I wanted to do was have her bond me..." |
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| Church | Saturday, 23. November 2013, 19:48 Post #30 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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I could've predicted me ending up on my back, but I simply didn't. Maybe there was enough of a backbone to lash out and punch me in the nose, though given what his background was before being turned, maybe tackling is all he knows? In any case, I land down with a hearty thump and a crunch of bone not fully healed from the depraved actions with my depraved associate. Regardless, I'm off my feet and that lump of a Nossie gets on top and, well, make me proud. I wanted a smack but, this'll do. This is probably better. Meh. It's strange to see the kid snap in such a way, forever playing the goof when it came to being around Aguirre and, by virtue, me. Strange for that southern drawl to become focused and powerful, and display something of the man behind the mask. He still may not have half a brain, but it sure knows how to get to the point. "Good boy." I grumble; sitting straight up and flashing teeth in the form of a genuine smile. What he said, could be a well wrapped up lie, but maybe that's the issue with being what he is. As he said, Aguirre believed in him...and he loved her for that. That and the fact that he had started become a trembling mess conveying these emotions to me has me feeling a little apologetic. "I'm sorry alright? Cause yer right about that girl. She's too good for this fuckin' world, and I'ma make sure it stays that way. Her going balls to the wall, spittin' in the face of the cammies ain't exactly a good path to take. What if they didn't throw you out? What if they executed you for treason, let her walk. You think that's gonna do her any favours...tha'sall I mean..." I feel a little...bashful? No that ain't the word. Fuck, what is the word? I didn't want quite the outburst, but it was a lot better than him saying 'You got me, I'm here for her soul.' I get to my feet, draw full height opposite him. Jeez, I never really noticed it, maybe cause I assumed Nossies to be deformed, but all skin and bone beneath it. I can testify the bulk on him isn't all illusion like his pretty face. I lay my hands on his shoulders, hoping he's not gonna bust a nut here and now. I pat one in something of acceptance...cause this could work. As long as he isn't dragging her down with him, it can only do good things right? And who knows, A Rat is always useful, and having one on hand could be...super useful...? "Guess you'll be living in that fridge after all, huh? Do I gotta way of callin' 'em or what?" Douchebag jar will certainly be receiving a donation. As sure as Aguirre will receive a conversation about getting bound to this guy. I can get behind this thing, but that is not. That is borderline Sabbat bullshit. "So keep that chin up buddy, cause for whatever reason, you got the girl. Try not to lose her, kay?" There. Words of encouragement. Non-douchebaggery as can be. As polite and friendly as I might get, but clear indication that I'm OK with this and am able to co-exist. I don't imagine he will live in the fridge, but if Aguirre wants to sneak him in her room...I don't give a shit. I think I just found out who Sawyer Flint is. But wait, didn't he ask who I was? "Oh! One last thing." I grin. Bam. One hand lifts from his shoulder, cocks back and hammers his jaw. Not with all the force that could have been packed into the fist, but enough speed to catch the fucker off guard. "I'm Damon-fucking-Church. An' from 'ere on, we're gonna have an understanding. Sound good?" |
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| Sawyer | Monday, 25. November 2013, 05:06 Post #31 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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Church's fist collided with his face in a way that caught him utterly by surprise- hey, weren't they friends now? Ah, well, he totally deserved it. Still, the Nosferatu was struck by the notion that he really didn't ever want to be faced with the prospect of an actual fight with Damon Church. They both knew who'd be kicking who's ass. "Sounds damn good." Sawyer grinned brilliantly, rubbing his jaw. "You'd really let me stay? Wow, you... okay, you ain't a douchebag. Thank you. Just, uh. Don't say stuff about Aguirre again, bro." Sheepishly, he offered a shrug. Hey, everyone had their berserk button. He hadn't exactly planned on accepting an offer of hospitality; he hated being a burden on other people, and especially hated feeling as if he owed them something. But the blood seemed to shut him up before he could even think of declining. It bound him like a tether to Aguirre, and Sawyer wanted nothing more than to spend every waking second close to her. This was an eerie, obsessive feeling that he hadn't felt stir him since his lovesick wanderings through Notting Hill early in the summer. But where his affection for Stella had been artificial, real emotion drew him back to his Mouse, the kind he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. Sawyer wasn't going anywhere. There wasn't anything he could offer in return, necessarily, except for his friendship, whatever that was worth lately. Maybe Church wouldn't exactly want that, seeing as he was nothing more than a walking bad luck charm. Or maybe that bad luck was finally starting to clear up. After all, like Church had reminded him- he'd gotten the girl. However ridiculous that sounded. However little he could believe it. And as long as he had her, well, nothing could be bad at all. |
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| Church | Friday, 29. November 2013, 22:52 Post #32 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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I regard him a little longer, feeling a tug inside that I'm doing the right thing by not throwing him out the window. Hell, it makes me feel good, like picking Mac's crippled ass out of the gutters did that once. The occasional act of kindness clearly is the way to go, unless this fucker burns down the flat of course. Or worse..."Just don't go filling the place with mountains of shit and I ain't got a problem. And I sure as shit want no capes in this flat, got that? As for the otherstuff..." Fire and brimstone, mindless savages, vague yet menacing government forces...locust...death of the first borns...I shrug. "I'm pretty sure this place is smite-proof but...don't push it." And with that, we're done. Aguirre and I are certainly going to have a long chat about the whole thing, and if I can be bothered to be a human-fucking-being, or a shadow of one, for just a moment I may even get to know Flint; he doesn't seem bad, but being a Cape put him in the negatives early. He needs to start building up Church points before I'll really be able to be on the level with him. I give him a small smile at the thought, but nothing too friendly. I'm not thrilled, but I know Aguirre will be. And maybe that's enough. "Now get off my couch, you smelly bitch. " I jerk a finger towards Aguirre's room. I mean, he could use my shower but...nah. Just jump in the shower with your girlfriend. Besides, I wanna watch Convoy. |
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