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Post by 5572 on Jan 25, 2012 21:57:54 GMT -5
A brown head woman walked out to the deck of the club that she came to. She never got out much because of her vet practice that had taken off. She had a mixed drink in her hand sighed. She took a drink and looked out on the Thames. She shook herself from the chill in the night air. She had her brown hair in a ponytail and a short black dress. She rarely got to show off her curves. She felt someone watching her until she felt a couple of hands on her body pushong her into the darkness. She tried to fight the men but they just told her that no one would come to save her. She bit the guy's hand until he had her down on the ground and the other man was pushing her dress until he had her dress to her hips.
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Post by lorcan on Jan 26, 2012 21:41:50 GMT -5
The more he stayed in this dull and grim-looking town the more he wanted to leave; to return to Europe's Wizarding limelight and perform as he always had. He had been stuck here since the Masquerade Ball, with the wizarding world going into a lockdown after Voldemort's ascension to power. It was a shame things had ground to a halt like they had, too - wartime profits were usually far larger, simply because people would pay far more to get distracted from their troubles. That, Lorcan thought smugly, was what the entertainment business was for. And a ruthless business it was, too. He knew it better than most. Still, most people remained blissfully unaware, and it wasn't often that he found it pointed out to him. Ah, well.
Standing, Lorcan excited the building with a grace unrivalled by other creatures, all but melting into the darkness, memories of the earlier day swirling in his head.
"You've been following me!" "Technically, no," Lorcan said thoughtfully, a smirk playing across his face. "I hired people to follow you. Make sure you didn't find yourself in any more back alleyways." He inclined his head. Balthazar sneered at him, his frame tensing even more. "I didn't think you'd find out, to be honest," Lorcan ventured at last, looking at the other man appraisingly. "It's a nice twist to this whole thing. Something to lull me from boredom." "Glad I'm so amusing," Balthazar snapped before a young girl appeared out of the candy shop, glancing around nervously. He muttered something under his breath, something Lorcan obviously wasn't meant to hear but did anyway. He smirked. "Until next time, Balthazar." His reply was a snappy insult, but he found, hilariously enough, that it didn't bother him in the least.
Honestly, the prissy man had been the highlight of his stay thus far; a refreshing, oftentimes volatile presence in an otherwise dull and lifeless setting. But, of course, there were always the gangs. Every major city had one. And, of course, it seems like he had been lucky enough to find one.
Raising the cigarette to his lips, the hybrid exhaled heavily, eyes glowing in the gloom as he leaned against the wall, having instantly recognized the repelling scent of shifter in the air.
"I do not understand," he said simply, alerting the attention of the gang members, "why you do not just simply shift and attack them. Really, Michelle, playing the helpless card now? You were so desperate to convince me that you were so strong and durable before, so prove it."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2012 20:48:47 GMT -5
Seff hated being in London. He hated it with a passion. Too many bad memories; too many faces that might remember him. He was in the wrong part of town, he knew that much - he'd narrowly avoided being beaten to the ground earlier that day by a particularly nasty gang.
His moral conscience had willed him to follow them. His head told him to get the hell away. Naturally, his conscience won, and he found himself hiding out in the shadows as he saw them go after a young girl, probably somewhere around his age.
And being the whipped bastard that he was, he stepped in to help.
But another man had intervened before him, calling the girl out for being stronger than she was letting on. He called her a shifter. If she was a shifter, why was she not shifting? No sane person would willingly let themselves be violated if they had the power to stop it.
"That's a hell of a way to treat a lady," he growled to the shady man before noticing the way his eyes flashed in the gloom. He was dangerous too. Suddenly feeling slightly vulnerable and...normal, he kicked out one foot in front of the other in faux disinterest, putting on a confident smirk. He knew better than to let on that he was the weakest one here, though something told him the other man was more than aware of that fact.
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Post by 5572 on Jan 30, 2012 18:41:51 GMT -5
The brown head looked at the two men. She did not want to shift in front of muggles but she guessed that she would not have a choice. She let her panther form take over her small body. She bite at the men and pullled them off her. She tore at the gang's throats until they were all dead.
When she was done, she phased back to her small human form. She wipped the blood off her body. She looked at the vampire. "I did not want to phase into my other form." she snapped at him. She looked back at the other male. She did not know who he was. She looked back at Lorcan. "I figured you would be singing somewhere." She said to him.
She turned her brown head back to the new male. "Hello. I am Michelle Bales." She said to him as she figured he would walk away like Lorcan did.
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Post by lorcan on Jan 30, 2012 19:12:07 GMT -5
The only thing Lorcan did after hearing that was raise his eyebrow, and honest-to-god incredulous look flickering across his face before he shook his head, completely baffled. "So you are telling me," he said slowly, "that you would rather be horribly violated by a bunch of strangers, yes? You would rather that then phasing into your animal form where no one else can see you, making it safe anyway?" He paused to let that sink in before a smirk appeared on his face as he let out a small bark of laughter. "Mortals are funny." He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth, marvelling at how a small little thing like that could kill a normal person, before he stepped close to Michelle, lowering his head.
"I'd heard of muggle rape fantasies," he murmured into her ear, "but I think you're are taking it a little too far, Miss Bale." He paused then, drawing back and tilting his head to the side as if contemplating a particularly difficult conundrum. "It's not very funny, in retrospect. I could name three women off the top of my head who would more likely than not hex you if they could right now."
A pause followed that as he digested her next words, but her tone did nothing to rile him, nor did it evoke sympathy. Still, he didn't answer her next statement, leaving what he had been doing that night rather ambiguous. "Worst came to worse, Miss Bates, perhaps I could have stepped in, but nothing irks me more than people perfectly capable of defending themselves playing helpless. To me, Miss Bates, it just seems like a complete waste of talent. Or a gift. Whatever you want to call that feline smell that clings to you."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2012 19:38:33 GMT -5
Seff pursed his lips, debating over whether or not he should walk away or give his two cents. Both people here could easily kill him in a heartbeat, and he had things he had to do. But pride won out over logic, and he turned to the man.
He'd known guys like him. He knew how dangerous they were; how unpredictable. And as much as he loathed them, he couldn't help but to respect this one man in particular. Something about him told Seff that there was a good man beneath about a thousand layers of pure asshole.
"You really should be more polite," he growled. The joke about the muggle rape fantasies didn't sit well with him, even if the man meant it with no cruel intent. "Would it hurt to have a little understanding? As stupid as the logic may be, shifters are far and few between, and some people are less...forgiving than others. Even a fucking panther can't do anything for itself if it's locked behind the bars of a cage."
Then he turned to the girl. He gritted his teeth. He'd seen too much as a kid to be anything less than cross with her, as shaken as she seemed. An image passed through his mind, a memory he'd pushed down for so many years, of another girl. A friend of his, dragged into an alley kicking and screaming by four men. She'd been found dead the next day, and all Seff had been able to do was watch.
"And you. I don't care how dangerous it might have been, if you're going to be goddamn violated or even raped, you fucking shift. Grow a pair, and know when risks must be taken."
He was angry at her, but it more an emotional response rather than genuine rage. He paused, took a deep breath, and looked back to the girl--Michelle. He remembered a Michelle from Hogwarts, but he didn't know one that shifted. Regardless, he pursed his lips in a thin half-smile. "Sorry. I'm Seff." He looked to the other man, his eyes darkening. "And you are?"
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Post by 5572 on Jan 31, 2012 8:50:37 GMT -5
Michelle looked at both of them. They were ganging up on her and she did not know why. She turned her brown head away from them. "I understand but you know when someone is standing there, they can lend a little help." she said to them. "I could not phase into my panther form until the gang leader took the silver away from my neck when Lorcan cam up." she said in her defense.
She looked back at the new man and sighed. "It is nice to meet you." she said as she brought her wand out and started to heal the bruises that she had came across in her fight. She also fixed her dress so that there was no rips or anything in the blue silk material.
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Post by lorcan on Feb 1, 2012 11:04:55 GMT -5
Lorcan looked unfazed, merely rolling his shoulders in what could have easily been considered a parody of a shrug. Really, even after half a century it didn't get any easier when dealing with certain... archetypes, and he figured he would have had enough contact with them to know. Still, immortality didn't buy knowledge, he supposed.
Oh course, this didn't mean he was less intelligent than the two people in front of him, as he did have at least twenty years on both of them, whether he showed it or not. The fact that he didn't just made him chuckle.
Turning his head towards the man now identified as Seff - and he would take a stab at the name, too, if his hadn't been what it was - Lorcan inclined his head, looking unruffled by the man's sharp comments. "But she wasn't in a cage," he said smoothly, red eyes flashing. "And silver does not affect shifters." His lip curled at the word, disgust oozing from each syllable. "Silver affects werewolves. And unless she is suddenly part-werewolf, which would be impossible, it would have no effect on her person whatsoever." He laughed again, mocking. "And, pray tell, why would a common gang leader in London even think to use silver in the first place? On the off chance that they even believe in creatures such as those, myself included, I highly doubt they would go around mugging people with silver."
The mere idea of it was laughable, actually. After all, gang leaders tended to lead street gangs because they were poor and had no money. If they managed to get their hands on silver chances were it would be sold as quickly as possible. Or at least that's what he had experienced, and he had experienced a hell of a lot more then them both.
"As for me, I'm Lorcan d'Eath." His eyes glimmered. "Pleased to meet you."
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2012 12:54:06 GMT -5
Seff looked at Lorcan suspiciously. "Thanks, but something tells me 'pleased' might not be the word you're looking for," he said carefully, keeping at least some distance between him and them. They obviously knew each other, and if they turned on him he wouldn't stand a chance.
He didn't like the way Lorcan seemed to think himself as more important and more...righteous than him and Michelle. He was more dangerous, probably, and something told him he more than likely had a few years on them both. But the near-disrespect he showed in the way his lips curled over his words made Seff bristle. Damn if they knew he was uncomfortable.
"Would it kill you," he growled, "to show a little bit of respect or, god forbid, even common courtesy to others?" He narrowed his eyes. He was making a bad move, he knew it. But he didn't care. Wondering if his initial impression of this guy had been wrong, there actually was nothing good underneath, he crossed his arms and faced him. Careful not to let Michelle leave his peripheral vision out of suspicion more than anything else, his eyes darkened as he stared down the other man.
This was stupid. He was stupid. The entire argument was stupid. They were all just creating conflict out of nothing. But he would not back down.
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Post by etiennebeaulieu on Feb 1, 2012 21:36:28 GMT -5
"Two muggle murders have just occurred near a club in London."
Félix, another Auror was informing him through careful spying from France. The spell was a complex one that required much discipline. With it, he could see from above but not into buildings and he could only spy on one site at once. Situations he observed were without sound or any other sense. What he didn't see, he found out through police scanners and newspapers. this useful yet limited watchful eye was the first plan of France's intervention. Proving not to be a sufficient source of information, however, Étienne was sent as an informant to notify le ministère of England's situation. The two aurors now collaborated, in order to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.
"Which club? 'Zis city is filled wit' z'em. Ou knew 'ze English know 'ow to 'ave fun?" Chuckling lightly, Étienne continued:
"Ze work of Deat'eaters, do you t'ink?"
"We can never know but I'll have you investigate immediately."
"Oui, oui, where now?"
After receiving the desired information, Étienne swiftly ended the communication spell and disaperated from his hotel room into a deserted alley near the scene of the crime. Pushing his wand up the sleeve of his leather jacket, his gaze crossed the street towards where two men and a woman stood before yet another alleyway. As he made his way across the road towards them, he carefully evaluated the situation. The woman had her wand withdrawn, a witch, without a doubt. Two men nearby seemed to be arguing. One was betrayed by his fame as he recognized the half breed from the poster on the wall of his sister, Françoise's bedroom. What was it again? Horton, Leukan... Death? no Dark? Something along those lines. He'd remind himself to tear the bloody poster from his sister's wall the first chance he received.
The young man's heart clenched painfully as he spied the mangled bodies of two male muggles. They looked to have been either bitten or clawed at? Most likely the Vampire had come across a craving. How could two very real lives be so gingerly disposed of? Death was a thing the auror had yet to get accustomed to, if such a thing can be done. Anger swelled through his chest as he stepped onto the opposite sidewalk.
He was unaware of how powerful the criminals were. Outmatched three to one, he would have to rely on his training more than ever. His mission here was one of stealth more than anything else, he was meant to report what he could discover about the situation before Le ministère de la magie could send him reinforcements. Were they deatheaters, he may not be strong enough for the three. However, were they deatheaters, he could gather the required information on his second night of the mission.
"Surrender quietly now, 'less you want to cause a scene." he hissed, his french accent even more evident in his anger.
"Step into the alley, and I'll grant you the chance to explain yourselves. Sinon I would have to attract unwanted attention, hmm?"
As he smelled the metallic scent of the muggles' blood, his nose wrinkled in disgust. With a slight and discrete motion, he signed the cross, promising to himself their deaths would not be left ignored.
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Post by 5572 on Feb 1, 2012 22:34:50 GMT -5
The brown head woman shook her head as she watched the other man come up and tell them that they surrender or cause a scene. Tonight was not going the way that she wanted to it to go. She looked down at the bodies and sighed. She took a step back from everyone. Why was she having a feeling that this was not going to end good? She knew she did not look a like a shifter so it would probably go to Lorcan.
She waited to see what the other two would say before she explained herself to the male that had just showed it. She did not know she was just in the middle of someone trying to annoy someone else.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2012 12:57:39 GMT -5
Seff growled to himself. He must be a magnet for pain in the asses, because the new guy seemed almost as self-righteous as Lorcan.
"I am here on a business trip," he hissed at the new guy, baring his teeth when he spoke. "I don't have anything to do with them. I've had enough trouble in this goddamn town. I don't think you're from London, let alone anywhere in goddamn England, so unless you get an English officer to come arrest me then I'm under no obligation to do anything you tell me to."
He let his fists relax--he hadn't realized his nails were digging deep into his palms, leaving indents in his flesh. His fierce gaze did not leave the French guy's face, momentarily forgetting about the two others behind him.
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Post by etiennebeaulieu on Feb 3, 2012 18:30:47 GMT -5
Well, this was becoming quite confusing. There was an overall lack of reaction from the woman and a confusing statement from the man who was not from his sister's poster. he seemed to have come to the direct conclusion that he was here to arrest him? Did he think Étienne was a muggle police man? Since the ministry's fall, aurors no longer patrolled England, he knew that much. Was the man who had spoken a muggle? Was he a wizard, Étienne knew not why he was "clubbing" with muggles in these dangerous times. Then again, however, Lorcan and the Girl were both people with magical abilities.
"You are wrong. I gave no order, but a threat." Étienne protested menacingly.
"Monsieur, you must understand that I do not take kindly to muggle murder." he said, continuing. "Which one of you is responsible for these men's deaths? Are you deatheaters? I have the authority that gives my wand, which should be enough, whether or not you feel "obligation" to answer me."
The last part he said glaring at the other man, wishing he could reveal how very much reason he had to fear Étienne. Auror training was no small thing. Being undercover was no easy feat when his pride made him want to shout out his exploits.
He didn’t like this, not one bit. He was alone in a foreign country and knew next to nothing about his enemies. Étienne had always had fire in his blood. Not a pacifist by nature, he preferred using his fist or his wand to communicate. His fists had no accent and mispronounced nothing. He didn’t fail to notice when the other man's clenched his in anger and employed every ounce of his self-control not to reply in the same manner.
He let his wand slide from his sleeve, deliberately making it’s existence as obvious as possible in menace.
“Ze ministry of magic may not care 'ow many muggles die needlessly but your friends down south do.”
If the other men received the hint, it would not matter. It was logical thinking that the rest of the world would show interest in a terrorist movement which had just taken down the magical government of an entire country.
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Post by lorcan on Feb 12, 2012 13:22:54 GMT -5
If Lorcan lived to be a thousand - which, face it, he probably would - he would never grow tired of the idiots that inhabited the same areas as he. People that ranged from just misguided, to ridiculously stupid, to undeniably insane - these were things he had seen before, and multiple times. You didn't get to be a world-class performer without encountering these archetypes, after all, though he would be the first to admit that they usually had ovaries and were not, for example, crazy Frenchmen. But then again, were there any other types of French people?
Not even bothering to hide the smirk that appeared on his face, Lorcan shifted his posture, his arms sliding behind his back as his hands curled around his elbows. He was taller than the Frenchman - he was taller than a lot of people, though - as well as stronger, and likely more intelligent. Most people tended to assume that just because he was an entertainer, and a half-vampire at that, he had no magic. They often found out quite painfully that this was a very wrong assessment to make.
Still, Lorcan saw no harm coming to his person from revealing the truth, so he sidestepped to where Seff was an inclined his head lazily towards the shifter, red eyes reflecting nothing but disinterest.
"If you're looking for the murderer, monsieur, then look no further than the shifter. Naturally, self-defence, and since she is a woman and that is how society works I'm assuming nothing will come of it."
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Post by 5572 on Mar 13, 2012 8:37:39 GMT -5
Michelle just listened and watched. she listened to Lorcan and nodded her head. She put her brown hair behind her shoulder. "It was me." she said to the man. "They were trying to rape me but I phased into my animal form and took them out before they hurt me since someone would not give someone a helping hand." she said to the male.
She tood a step back as she waited for the worse to come. She should have not came out tonight but she could not change her choice now.
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