[/style][classy=box1] CAN'T MAKE IT TO THE WEDDING[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I'LL SURE BE AT YOUR WAKE[/classy]
[classy=text]
Her career is pretty simple, all things considered, and this is just another job. Get money, get target, kill target and then you'll get more money. Killing another were is easier than killing a demon, half the time, and Vivienne's almost grateful for the straightforwardness of the task, even if she dislikes being this far out of her territory. It's midnight and she's a stranger in a strange land. Hardly ideal hunting conditions.
But who ever got anywhere by being a pussy? She certainly didn't. Vivienne drummed her fingers against the edge of the rooftop and considered her options. Going tiger was an abysmal idea, even this late at night, outside of her well-known areas, but she disliked fighting in this body even more than she disliked the pain of the claws. The pathetic gray human sense she had to operate on weren't good for much, but she'd say this: they helped dull the pain. Extending her claws fully, she slung herself over the roof and down the fire escape, moving steadily.
"Kill the leader of the Red Hook wolfpack." That was her job, and she'd do it. So she was here, in the midst of Red Hook territory, where her contacts had squealed that the leader made his rounds, sometimes with as few as three companions. (Vivienne's mind didn't consider the possibility that she might be out-fought, out-flanked with numbers.) So she was here, claws out and the taste of blood rising in her mouth, waiting for the famous leader to come, knuckles tensing automatically, craving the give of muscle, the snap of bone.
Post by Viktor Zoric on Dec 19, 2012 22:19:51 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; padding: 10px; background: #000000;][STYLE= font-family: georgia; color: #F2F2F2; font-size: 20px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; width: 405px; line-height: 60%;]I'D LIKE TO SEE[/style][STYLE=color: #F2F2F2; font-family: franklin gothic medium; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]HOW YOU ALL WOULD BLEED FOR ME.[/style][STYLE= width: 390px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #F2F2F2; padding: 10px; border-top: #F2F2F2 10px solid;]The echoing clacking sound of lone footsteps rang out as Viktor strolled through the empty streets of Red Hook. His usual patrol group had been called to the opposite side of the area, due to some “unexpected incident” that had to be attended to, thus leaving the Red Hook Pack's leader to do the usual rounds by himself. Not that he minded, though. Sure, he was less secure walking around out in the open all by his lonesome like this, but he doubted there were many people out there that had the balls to confront him, knowing the Red Hooks' track record. Hell, and there was the fact that if he managed to run into some poor, unwitting soul walking around at this hour, he wouldn't have to share the corpse with any of his packmates. That was always a plus.
Suddenly, Viktor stopped dead in his tracks. He had picked up a foreign scent. It was somewhat similar to that of a werewolf, yet it was somehow... Different. The werewolf scowled, his nose twitching ever so slightly as the nature of the scent began to sink in. There was another kind of werebeast around. But why? It was no secret that Red Hook was wolf territory, and that it's residents didn't exactly take too kindly to “outsiders” wandering around. A growl rumbled in the back of Viktor's throat. Somebody was testing the Red Hook Pack's authority – his authority. “Alright, I know you're out there,” the Alpha grumbled threateningly in his gruff voice. “Come out from wherever you're hiding before I have to find you myself!” [/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-right: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style]
[STYLE= font-family: franklin gothic medium, arial narrow; font-size: 10px;]MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY ✖[/style]
[/style][classy=box1] CAN'T MAKE IT TO THE WEDDING[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I'LL SURE BE AT YOUR WAKE[/classy]
[classy=text]
His voice sounds like human Christmas. Her father's sentimental presents, teddy bears and bright garish board games with no purpose and no spirit, had never satisfied her even as a child but this is real; the fight is her true gift. The burn of her claws through her skin is a good kind of pain, turns into something like pleasure if she rides the feeling long enough. She's not hiding, no, she wants this, craves it like air.
"No need for that," Vivienne purrs as she steps out into the open. Her target is wiry, lean. His face, she thinks, looks like the world has used him as a punching bag and never bothered to wipe him off. She likes that idea. Mean men, desperate men, fight harder and stronger and die more beautifully upon her claws. And he's better than a man--he's a were. The breeze is metal, copper and salt on her tongue when she inhales. She knows the taste is a fancy, a delusion, but she enjoys it anyway. Humans aren't the only ones with dreams.
"I'm not hiding," Vivienne echoes. Her claws fan out at her side, her fists tense at her hips. "Viktor, right? Can I call you Vik?" She shrugs. "It doesn't really matter, honestly. I have to kill you. You pissed off someone with money, I got hired--these little dramas always play out the same."
Maybe that's enough of her monologue. She enjoys them, though, the flair of suspense they add, the heightened atmosphere. Every predator has a ritual and this is hers. As she speaks, she starts to circle the werewolf warily, rather than attack straight out. She's banking on having some time before his men come back, and speed has never been her specialty. She's built to take hits until the time comes when she can deliver just one punch back in return. (Her opponents usually don't stand back up after one punch.) She's not designed to flutter around like a goddamn butterfly.
Post by Viktor Zoric on Dec 28, 2012 1:23:41 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; padding: 10px; background: #000000;][STYLE= font-family: georgia; color: #F2F2F2; font-size: 20px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; width: 405px; line-height: 60%;]I'D LIKE TO SEE[/style][STYLE=color: #F2F2F2; font-family: franklin gothic medium; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]HOW YOU ALL WOULD BLEED FOR ME.[/style][STYLE= width: 390px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #F2F2F2; padding: 10px; border-top: #F2F2F2 10px solid;]Viktor snarled furiously as a woman stepped out of the shadows. This was the one alright. The Alpha's claws slid out of the tips of his fingers the moment he caught sight of her. He dropped his shoulders slightly, assuming an attack stance. Just the sight of this woman filled him with rage. Her voice, her appearance, every last thing about her pissed him off. He was ready and willing to rip her to shreds.
As the woman began to speak, the left corner of Viktor's mouth momentarily twitched upward into a crooked, morbid grin. "Not hiding, huh? Well, ya should be," he uttered in a gravelly voice, warily keeping an eye on the weretiger as she began to circle him, particularly on the claws jutting out of her knuckles. "Lemme guess... That little 'situation' that took my boys out of Red Hook... That was you, wasn't it?"
Viktor continued his train of thought, not giving the stranger a chance to respond. "You must not be from around here... That, or you're some kinda idiot. You're dealin' with a guy that's known for killin' people off left and right, and you think you can just walk straight into his turf, do him in, and walk away like it's nothing?" He let out a low chuckle, his vision still locked on his target. "You aren't the first hired gun society's thrown at me, and I'm willin' to bet that you won't be the last one either. At the end of the day, you're nothin' but another meal to me."
With that last thought spoken, a devilish gleam sparked in Viktor's eye. He'd had enough talking. Now it was time to rip this insolent woman in half. Not wasting a second, the werewolf lashed out at the assassin, immediately going directly for the throat in typical wolf fashion. Despite the clear recklessness of rushing straight at the assailant without scouting her fighting style first, he was hoping to end this altercation quickly by simply tearing her throat out right off the bat. [/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-right: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style]
[STYLE= font-family: franklin gothic medium, arial narrow; font-size: 10px;]MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY ✖[/style]
[/style][classy=box1] CAN'T MAKE IT TO THE WEDDING[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I'LL SURE BE AT YOUR WAKE[/classy]
[classy=text]
She was so wrong. This was so much better than human Christmas! This was Christmas and Easter, Fourth of July, all those silly stupid holidays wrapped into one and candy-coated with blood. (Except for Halloween. She was a big fan of Halloween.)
"It was me, it was me," Vivienne sing-songed. "Your sad little doggies went prancing off with their muzzles all a-slaver and their tiny brains leading them right into the trap. And here is the biggest and saddest doggie of them all."
Vivienne threw herself to the side as Viktor lunged and rolled to her feet, still circling.
"Nuh-uh, nuh-uh," she said. "Puppy might hurt himself if he plays with his claws out."
Post by Viktor Zoric on Jan 11, 2013 19:23:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; padding: 10px; background: #000000;][STYLE= font-family: georgia; color: #F2F2F2; font-size: 20px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; width: 405px; line-height: 60%;]I'D LIKE TO SEE[/style][STYLE=color: #F2F2F2; font-family: franklin gothic medium; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]HOW YOU ALL WOULD BLEED FOR ME.[/style][STYLE= width: 390px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #F2F2F2; padding: 10px; border-top: #F2F2F2 10px solid;]Viktor's look of vicious satisfaction turned into one of surprise as the woman effortlessly danced out of the reach of his claws. He hadn't expected her to avoid the attack at all, let alone with such ease. That just pissed him off even more. Looks like this is gonna be a bit tougher than I thought, he mused bitterly.
He allowed a gutteral growl to escape him as his assailant taunted him. "Got a mouth on ya, huh?" he half-yelled, easily-discernible hints of frustration creeping into his tone. "Cute. Reaaaal cute. Let's see how much you feel like talkin' after I'm done with you!”
Despite his aggressive threat, Viktor paused for a brief instant. I'm gonna have to do some scouting, he thought, carefully watching his opponent. I gotta find some kinda pattern in her movements... Without any further hesitation, the wolf attempted to test the waters, lashing out against Vivienne once more, paying close attention to whatever action she'd take next. [/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 80px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii55/pyratxo/icons/Untitled-1copy-1.png); border-top: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-bottom: #f2f2f2 solid 10px; border-right: #f2f2f2 solid 10px;][/style]
[STYLE= font-family: franklin gothic medium, arial narrow; font-size: 10px;]MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY ✖[/style]
HIDDEN in plain sight is a modern-day supernatural noir game set in New York City and sprawling the rest of America. Magic is real, and so are angels, ghosts, gods, vampires, and witches. It doesn't matter if you believe in them, because they're coming for you either way.
( TOSKA ) - Head admin, your go-to for anything HIDDEN related
( MURK ) - Ad mod, resident cutie pie. Keep it in your pants or Toska will cut you.
( VERTIGO ) - takes no math classes.
( TSUNDERE ) - Not actually staff, but has residual staff powers from v4. Feel free to pester with questions.
SPOTLIGHT
HIDDEN's spotlights give kudos to anything awesome. It can be a character, a member, a thread, or even a cool plot!
( SPOTLIGHT ) - Lorem ipsum character stuff goes here.
( SPOTLIGHT ) - Lorem ipsum character stuff goes here.
( SPOTLIGHT ) - Lorem ipsum character stuff goes here.
CREDITS
( ORIGINAL SITE BY KATYA ) - Original site, templates, skin, ideas, and system all by Katya. Other ideas belong to their original owners
