Last 10 Posts [ In reverse order ]
||Posted on Mar 11 2012, 01:19 AM
|| Set the rules.
This was terrifying and stupid. She was no hunter, and though she was agile and fast there was no way she could beat a vampire while dusk was falling. She should have wanted nothing to do with it. If she said no, never mind, I don’t want to do this anymore, they would only be cruel for a little while. It would only be upsetting for a little while. But at least she’d be safe. Livvy wouldn’t have to die trying to squeeze information out of this boy about his friends, about that burned down library, about the inner workings of his world and how a group of hunters could infiltrate and bring it down. It would be terrifying if she did. It would be so stupid.
Livvy was never very smart, though. Listening and obeying were some of the few things she knew. Her thoughts and plans were sloppy and covered in blood and a drunk swagger with something like a knife slicing though each image. Bright and gleaming, colorful and vivid and tinged in red. Her only advantage in her life was that at least her mind couldn’t be read. Her future was vague and gray and no one could pierce that fog. And she was cute, like a doll you hid in the attic.
It took every muscle in her face to hold back a grin. She kept her head down. “The rules of contact, you mean?” she muttered. “I didn’t realize…” she stopped, couldn’t think of anything to say, shut down.
Was he really so lonely? She had to admit, she didn’t expect it would be so easy. More than just one puncture on her wrist and a gunshot to convince him she was on his side. The crow cawed outside, and she reminded herself she shouldn’t be lulled into thinking this was so simple. “Let’s start slow,” she started. “Someone can pick me up tomorrow. But I’d still like to see you, only in daylight and in public areas.”
She was never very smart, and he was something of a monster. But she didn’t think she was exactly stupid, and she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t understand the need for this.
Livvy had time, after all.
||Posted on Jan 23 2012, 07:06 AM
|| "We always want to," he admitted. If this was Caleb who was answering, Livvy would have seen him go sly, go coy, at the delivery. Then with his free hand, he'd yank down at her top, rip the fabric off her, and have the same hand covered her breast. He'll fuck her, too, because Livvy was not without her charms, and while Caleb was not the whore Lance proudly proclaimed himself to be, he was close enough. Driving into her, pumping so hard it would hurt --,
And Caleb would let her come, Tyler thought, hating he was aroused by the image his thoughts brought. It would be a small gesture, that. Caleb will feed as she does. Kill her and then he would climax, too.
Suddenly, she was too close to him (though that had been his fault and he realized now he sholdn't have). He almost, almost, tasted her blood in his throat again, almost smelled the richness of it. In the dark, he trembled a little, an addict in withdrawal. Fear rushed in, and he ran with it.
"I can't take you back." That wasn't the plan. He'd hope to carry her with him, at least within the perimeters of Worthington, but the feel of her skin so close to his would be her death tonight. "Stay for the night. This place is yours, right? So you should be safe." He nodded at where she hid the gun, something cruel in the way he made the gesture -,
And realized he was being a fool. Because of course she would need it, wouldn't she? She was the one sticking her neck in danger by coming back here without anyone to protect her. She would need it if she faced another of his kind. A gun was the least she could - should - carry. It wasn't - shouldn't - be about him. She didn't even need to do this. Done this.
No slyness or coyness, just Tyler sounding tired and withdrawn, ashamed of himself. He was somehow by the door again when he finally faced her. "I didn't know if you'd still want to talk to me when we see each other in the school. I just...,"
He still have his pride. Hindsight had shown him he was at fault, but Tyler rationalized this was another topic and therefore has in it a different set of rules to follow. He won't beg for her company if she didn't want to give it. But she smells like sun and summer and he wanted to get used to it.
In the past, he had thought he wanted death, only to face death three times and realized he didn't really wanted it as badly as he claimed he did. In the past, he also kept saying how he wanted to be left alone with his books and tomes, to live in solitude. But there was Caleb and there was Lance, and you can't have friendship without any effort from your part, that just wasn't how friendship rolled. It took years to realize though he claimed to want things, he didn't really knew what it was he wanted.
He knows what he wants, the only thing he wants, even if he can’t have it.
It's possible he's a romantic. When he was alive, he always claimed to be one, but then death came and then undead, and then Caleb just said he was pathetic. Maybe they were both the same thing. He certainly felt pathetic now.
"Set the rules," he finished, added, improvised. It's not where he broke off from earlier, not what he wanted to say, but it's easier to do it like this. Rules were something he was good at.
||Posted on Dec 14 2011, 03:22 AM
|| When he brushed past her, she jumped.
She shouldn’t have, Livvy knew that. It was stupid that, while trying to gain his trust, she was unable to even feign much beyond a shallow smile. But, there were some things she couldn’t get out of her head. Blood lust, she’d seen it from far away, safe behind a wall of hunters while others trained with weakened vampires to grow stronger. Up close and personal, it was even more terrifying, and for a while Livvy didn’t even want to come. She didn’t want to die. She had too much to live for.
A life as a seer. A life reading minds and knowing everything. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit, Sierra would need her.
Livvy shoved the gun in her bag.
Her face turned an awkward, blotchy red. She hated herself for it.
She should have kept him weak somehow. There were potions, she knew, charms and trinkets she could have planted on him in order to have the upper hand. A boy at the Neverwhere Fair had been selling things like that, she only remembered such a thing because her cousin had been next to her giggling about how cute his friend was.
Next time. She’d have to find a way next time to bind him to her more thoroughly, blood to blood without wasting any of her own. You can’t trust a monster to have proper emotions, after all. It wasn’t like he was human.
Livvy glanced over at him and bit her lip. Very softly, she asked, “Would you want to?”
Outside, the crow cawed thrice.
Crow pie, she thought, trying to calm herself. I’ll make crow pies in his stomach.
||Posted on Oct 23 2011, 03:49 PM
|| The door opened, and he has such a smile. His eyes searched her face for a sign of – of nothing, ultimately. Tyler tried to hide his disappointment, and stepped aside so she could enter.
He does not mind the crow. It never occurred to him to mind it.
Inside it smelled of tallow wax. It has been a while since he'd lived the night by candlelight, and Tyler found that he liked it. It brought to him a memory of what was, and made him think that maybe he wasn't all changed. Some parts could still remain the same. Did remain the same.
“It’s late. You really shouldn’t go out this late.” He hesitated at shutting the door, the practical part of him knowing it’s safer if it was closed. But he hesitated for Livvy, worried what she’d think of it. It’s the same reason he made sure to dress quickly when he heard her coming, to save them both the embarrassment of seeing him without a shirt. Tyler Williams is shy with the girl who saved his life and it is years of practice that keeps him from giving that fact away. Instead, he opened the door with a brave set to his shoulders and laughter in his voice and a wariness, a sort of fear -- things expected of him, so really, nothing special. But his eyes betrayed what he was feeling inside. They were soft and kind and they can’t stop looking at her: like he means what he says; like he cares about her safety.
(His life has always cycled back to its most important moments and it ends where it started, with his heart on his sleeve and ripe for the plucking.)
He compromised for them. He left the door ajar.
Still smiling, Tyler looked at Livvy to tell her something and that’s when he saw the gun.
And his eyes betrayed him the second time.
Suddenly, his face showing his hurt, his manner suddenly brusque, he moved towards the bed where the rest of his stuff was laid in a neat pile. Most were worthless now; the shirt torn, a jacket ripped at the side, but he kept them as evidence for when the Elder would grill him where he was the past few days. On the way, he brushed against her -- it was small room. Besides that, he wanted to invade her personal space, as if testing what she'd do if he got too close. “I thought you weren't coming. I’m leaving tonight. To go back to the school.”
That wasn’t what he planned to say earlier. Time was a luxury Tyler didn’t have but there was something he craved that he found inside the four walls she'd kept him in.
But she just had to keep bringing that damn gun.
Weren’t they friends?, he thought, frustration welling inside him. He hadn't bitten her since that first day, she was still alive, he hasn't done anything, he was keeping his word, so what? Maybe still not friends, but certainly something.
With a grimace, he turned around to look at her hard. "That'd be useless now, you know. If I wanted to, that gun wouldn't be good enough to stop me."
||Posted on Oct 17 2011, 05:40 PM
|| She spent the next day praying.
During classes, where math zipped over her head and the works of Shakespeare sat waiting to be analyzed, she prayed for strength.
While, during dance, she found Sierra eyeing the marks on her arm she’d tried to hide, Livvy prayed hard. Her heart rate skyrocketed with the uneasy glare, and she almost vomited when Sierra took her aside with a simple question and Livvy was forced to find the simplest answer.
She prayed forgiveness for it. I had to, was the answer, to prove I’m worth it. Cauldhame wouldn’t have a seer as good as her, who was willing to put herself in a line of danger just to get information. Who was so willing to prove she could be worth more than an average seer. And maybe, if her determination was seen by the divine, they would strike old Morrigan dead and raise Livvy up.
She prayed all day, and when evening started to fall, she wrapped herself up in a coat, stuffed the gun close to her, and left for the woods.
The caw of a crow overhead startled her.
It was worse when Livvy remembered that Morrigan was always seen with a big ugly crow on her shoulder, and that the big ugly crow on Morrigan’s shoulder always stared at her with one beady eye like he knew she was hiding something. It was even worse when Livvy remembered Morrigan still had power over this place, that Sierra wasn’t the only one to be afraid of, and that Morrigan had never trusted her. When the crow perched into a tree near her, Livvy spent fifteen minutes trying to drive it off with stones, twenty trying to walk in circles, and arrived just as it was getting dark to the little cottage with crows on her brain.
When she became seer, Livvy decided she’d kill the crow herself. It would be easy, even with her small hands. She would break it’s wings right there so it couldn’t fly away, break it’s feet and strangle it while it was crying. Or maybe she would snap it’s neck. When she became seer, she’d have it roasted and fed to Doyle Cauldhame before Sierra finished him off.
The idea made her smile, and Livvy knocked on the door, practically glowing with pleasure. She held the gun to her side.
It would be easy to fake this time around.
Easier with practice.
Crow’s head on a platter, crow’s body nailed over a fireplace, crow’s tongue stuffed in Morrigan’s decaying mouth. “Hello, it’s me,” she said after the third knock. Crow’s cries, no more crows stalking around with messages taped to their feet, only me. “Are you feeling better?” She prayed for good response. And for crow stew in the future.
Her finger touched the trigger, preparing herself. He was still a monster, after all, despite his word.
No crow would be allowed near the main house. Shot on site. They would make a game out of it, crow killing.
On top of the roof, Huugen sat preening.
||Posted on Oct 10 2011, 10:58 AM
|| He closed his eyes for a moment, because everything was too bright.
"You have it," he whispered. Tyler knew her gaze was hostile, suspicious, confused.
And he doesn't blame her. He was the dead who live, proof of the living death. A monster. He understood her fear; had she not been afraid, had she not been willing to shoot him, he'd have thought her a fool. Someone so stupid she deserved to die.
From his place on the bed, Tyler blinked. His expression was calm now, serene almost. If he struggled with the inhuman force inside him, he did not show it. When he spoke, he spoke like a man in a dream. "Thank you."
And then he said no more.
He just lay there, eyes on the ceiling, willing the pain away, counting the seconds when he would stop feeling like he was being burned and ripped apart, when the bruises that still marked him slowly fade.
[ ooc : so... i imagine livvy closing this 'chapter/thread'
and we can start a second one, either on this same thread, or skipping to a new thread?
he'd be all healed up and slowly, they can start the 'hi, you save my life and since i am a romantic sap, we should fall in lurve, i think!'
like twilight! except tyler wants to be bella.
ahhh, why aren't you in skype so i can ask these questions? >:C
but yeah, your choice. ;o; ]
||Posted on Sep 16 2011, 05:19 PM
|| The gun was cold in her hands, begging for the trigger to be pulled.
Grapevine has told her of a fire in a library and a hunter who put blades to the throats of this one and a girl who long disappeared. She knows his name, she’s seen his friends, there are hints of who their makers are. Strong vampires, the hunters she knows grin. Vampires that would be better off dead (all of them were better off dead, but these stronger ones even moreso). They all went after the big prizes, patting her on the head and telling her to wait until the crone dies.
But she had to go after the smaller prizes, and see if they could lead to something bigger. Stupid, wasn’t it? She should give up now.
Wait until he moves.
If she left, she could hide the marks and wait until her blood came back. Until her head stopped spinning and when she had it on here. No matter how much blood he took from her, he was still weak. And there were hunters with nothing else to do but be cruel, all around the forest.
“Give me your word again that I won‘t have to die for you,” she said, and tried to not sound as cruel as the things she wanted to do. Pretty words instead, nice peaceful, elegant words. “And I’ll leave you here to sleep.” She didn't smile, but she didn't sneer.
Wait until he gets close.
The gun was warm in her hands.
||Posted on Aug 27 2011, 08:12 AM
|| Wait until she moves, get's close.
The vampire awakes: She wants to kill him, he knows. He can smell the fear in her. He'd groan more if he hadn't been bled so intensely. He'd groan more except the pain of the healing was such that he can't even form sounds and instead makes do with grunts and gasps. Instead he grits his teeth, feels his jaw locking as blood flows to parts that needed it the most. Parts that didn't need it either. Tyler doesn't need to look down to see he was in a state of arousal. As she stood up, gun pointed at him, he felt the first beat of his dead heart; sanity comes back and he immediately puts his fangs away. The scars and lesions on his wrists and chest instantly heal right before her eyes.
The second bullet, Tyler can feel it inside him and he debated what to do. It was a bother, and he could feel his body trying to work around it as he healed. The thing was, whoever she was, she still has a gun pointed at him.
He doesn't like it. Then again, who does?
"What now?" He was looking at the ceiling, trying to focus on something not her. His eyes have lost the redness, was still bloodshot, yes, but also very human. Which was a feat, if she even knew anything about vampires. The bloodlust wasn't something easily dealt with. And she was bleeding. And she was weak.
The fangs come out, and he licked them slowly.
Her blood tasted good. Sweet as sweet and something else. Something Tyler was sure he had never encountered before.
||Posted on Jul 18 2011, 12:11 AM
|| One second over, she brought out the gun with her free hand and prepared to aim.
One point five seconds over, she was launched off the bed, skin ripped from his mouth, heading for the chair she had been sitting in.
One point five three seconds, the gun goes off once and shatters glass, though she doesn’t see where the glass is or where the shot has gone. Nor does she care.
One point eight four seconds, she hits the chair that she had previously been sitting in and finds it crumple underneath her. The gun goes off again, this time pointing somewhere near the bed. She doesn’t care again, instead she’s holding her anger and pain down, breathing shallowly and trying not to scream at him and tell him how much she wants to put a bullet in his thigh and dig it out while he’s strapped to the bed in chains. To twist it around and then once she finally finished and he thought it was over, put another one in his rotted heart and shove that one in further.
No, she’s not that person here. Blood on her face, on her hands and on her knees, a gash on her chest, she musters up a blank look hovering so close to rage it hurts as she stands and finally manages to hold up the gun. It’s her arms are shaking, and she thinks three shots left. Can’t be trigger happy anymore.
Wait until he moves, gets close.
||Posted on Jul 3 2011, 10:44 PM
|| He can't smile back even if he wanted to. Too much hurting and the feeling he was close to death; it's hard to form anything resembling a smile. If anything, his hold on her wrist tightened, as if he worried she would wrench herself free.
When he bit her, there was none of that ludicrous daintiness. This was, after all, a feeding.
The pain he had expected and was prepared for. Hunger pangs, when sated, was almost as painful as when not. Hunger that comes with a rattling drum, coating the throat with saliva. But to drink was something else entirely. The pain bent you double with its probing shock. You stop thinking and only continue sucking.
Still, the first swallow amazed him so much he lost a precious second as he paused to let him savor it. It's been a while since Tyler has had it this fresh. In a short while, the rotted, pulsing hurt in his chest was barely noticed.
God, such sweetness! Such sweetness! Such —
Now there was a new pain: the silvery pain that comes when muscles and bones begin to heal, in a pace not even dreamed or imagined. He hissed as he sucked, and almost forgot the time.
When Tyler realized that, he snarled and threw Livvy away from him, sending her flying away from him with inhuman force.