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 The Streets Empty For Me, @Soren | a year ago
Antonio Delgado
 Posted: Apr 28 2017, 01:36 AM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



You don’t run errands for the black market unless the flavor of consequences is to your preference.

It could not be denied that the appeal of certain dealings lost its luster like gold in the dark. The light of dire aftermaths shone farther than regular light, and at least Lito presumed that for what value they were born wrapped in, nothing was worth certain risks. You had to be ready and then some levels above it to plunge into dealings well worth lives like they were money, making the unaware humanists out there quiver in their sleep though they didn’t know of every shady deal that shat upon humans. That life didn’t really matter was a tried philosophy of some circles, not as familiar to Lito since he didn’t wear it himself, but a sentence he’d caught a whiff of in a warning when this world he first entered.

You would think that with what influences felled it from all directions it had necessarily adjusted to its users, but the underworld, even these outskirts thereof, the most he was willing to step on and walk bold, hadn’t so much changed as they’d hardened their ideals. Encased in tradition and lust for money, it was the same ol’ seedy shitty he’d known when he was first a boy. Even then, wandering the land of man as one of its mortal children, he’d glimpsed into the surroundings that he’d founded incredibly dark shaded, painted over with wrong intention and embedded in writing that turned blood cold.

The underworld was not to everyone’s favor, but he stepped into this deal because there was something in it for him after all.

Blood.

And the blood of an old vampire should have been nothing that was requested by a shifter. If he paid well, he paid also for silence. Nobody asked as long as the tit for tat was preserved. Silence thick as chilled honey, he went out to the bar where it was agreed to meet. The errand was nothing that should worry him he’d been told succinctly, merely his payment for the regent, and he’d nodded along and ventured into the bar where he’d meet some vampire. Some bitch of the underground though he was unofficially one now. Lito didn’t presume he’d deal with the underground often. It wasn’t his preference, and the appeal of it struck him as wild and unlikely to adore as a dagger through bone. But he waited, the bar quiet and his visit intended not to last, before some patrons decided half a minute was half a minute too much.

His stay had been intended for maybe half an hour before his contact arrived. It had been planned around convenience, and need, and under the shroud of Summer darkness. The weather was hot, SF boiled, and when the unearthly growl was ripped from his throat, under the light of the overhead moon, the sweat on his skin shone.

Lito tossed the petulant centaur into the wall like he were a toy, and threw himself at him, his vision red and the eyes golden.

Surrounded in the carnage of the fight, he was or would be found bloodied in the aftermath of it, the air filled with the squirming and shuffling of the supes he’d predicted victory when facing off a single wolf. His viciousness had taken them off guard as would. They’d not expected the readiness to fight for sure, hadn’t anticipated that when his fingers went through the flesh on some fae’s figure, that he’d twist and reach for the spine he’d have broken hadn’t the man let out a pained scream. Noise apparently startled a wolf.

No matter.

One centaur tossed into the wolf, one rogue cat kneeling, trying not to scream as their body recovered from new holes, and one other centaur passed on the ground, they were some clealy spelled out message of a loss not one had smartly predicted. Their vitriol, you see, had been backed up by youthful ignorance and cock-swinging.

His fighting by the readiness to kill.

He sat astride of the centaur who was the only one of them to successfully land a hit that had staggered, and had to remind himself that in this world, murder was wrong. That he’d grown out of the times where he could and where he forgave himself and repented by means of being nice to whoever he met after.

He reminded himself this man here was a child in many ways, old enough to marry, and have children, and old enough, no doubt, to have fathered seven, but he was a child still, incapable of that sort of ruthlessness that tightened Lito’s hand around his throat until he choked and turned pale.

He passed out from the lack of oxygen, and Lito held him, like a hound dog too trained to kill to let him go while his heart beat.

He released him, slowly.

Felt the heavily resonant heartbeat of his that sounded as pure mockery in Lito’s ears. When his hand twitched, he heard a please.

He heard the cat shifter shuffle up and groan out loud. Heard it as some tempting little sound, teasing the red in his mind.

He turned his gold-stained gaze on the rogue man, the embrace of the alley behind the bar almost permitting him to forget.

He lived in a modern world, he reminded himself, and these three were juvenile cocks harmless to his pack. It desaturated the color of his thought, but underneath the moonlight, Lito looked more convinced than before.

“Get out.”

Clothes crumpled, hair curled, and errantly embracing his features, he stood upright, in the center of a fight that had lasted too short. His skin was still flushed from the exertion.

And eyes like yellow light.

“Or I will kill you.”
@Sarah

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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: Apr 28 2017, 06:26 PM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



He could smell it long before he saw it, that tantalizing scent that spoke so soft and sweetly of blood. It furrowed his over expressive brows a bit as he slid himself forward, followed it in some gentle meandering, subconscious leading him better than the need to be at some bar to meet a shifter about some other man. The cigarette at the corner of his mouth hung loosely where it was as Soren fidgeted with his phone a bit, as if he could make it do what he wanted. He'd not, instead getting frustrated with it a moment later before he shoved it rather forcefully into his pocket. The modern trappings of men were as much a bother as they were a convenience. Would be helpful if there weren't so many buttons or so he'd silently mutter to himself. Still it was better than carrier pigeon so he'd not complain overly much. A hand shoved into his pocket he'd wander the sidewalk like a man forgotten, a wraith no one rightly saw, a lie if his face was taken into account.

A man who was taken notice of but never approached, his mind would easily hone in on a finite point and sweep him towards it.

Ghosted himself down the street without care for the people that passed him by, faces on the street were never his concern. The bar in question rising up before him minutes later though the smell would pull him past it and veer his feet off to the side, turned him sharply upon a heel as he rounded the edge of the building into the dark recess between it and the next.

The alley was dark and he moved within its shadowed confines without hesitation. Felt better here, at home in a sense that made the title garbage rather readily attach itself to him. He'd not have denied it in the least. Wandered him deeper down the length of the building before stopping himself some safe distance away from a tussle, the very one that flavored the air.

The fight was ongoing and he'd station himself leaned up against a wall, watching quietly as one felled the others. Which one he was here to meet he couldn't be sure though if it were one of the bloodied... his irritation would begin its build, slow and quiet. Would it have been the first time he'd been sent to meet someone who turned out to need some means of punishment for youthful exuberance? Surely not. Not when it came to the black market, an organization that employed people who wanted to be, mattered not who or what you were. Wasn't a job that cared at all over your personality or even the reason you wanted to work, just that you did.

Leaned himself there and watched, smoked his way through the end of one cig only to light another as the fight seemed to linger a moment too long for his waning patience to not need a distraction. It'd end some quarter of a cig later and as the trio were left to their puddled states, one rising feebly in a need to rush off (sent with a shout that would curl a soft smirk into the corner of his mouth), Soren would see himself pushed off the wall. His feet wandering forward, lazy but the intent was there that it couldn't rightly be considered casual so much as simply languid.

Air scented as it rushed by and he'd note the man with threats on his tongue was shifter... wolf.

How fucking fitting.

"Lito, then?"

It drawled so lazily from his throat it was a wonder he didn't choke on it as he sauntered forward.

He'd been sent to meet a shifter, though he'd assumed cat, with their penchant for going lone where wolves were often not so easily pulled from their comrades. Perhaps he'd assumed wrong. The tint of his dark eyes flared with red as he neared, yet he looked to pose no real threat to anyone, calm and without any dramatic show of hunger. A flare of red pulled from him in simple response to the proximity of blood. "Could've found you without the need for all this shit," a snort would punctuate his languid tone as cig was propped into the corner of his mouth. Squatted beside the first fae, the sound of his heart was steady as he hovered and picked it out from the sounds of the city. "Trust that one's breathing, yeah?" There was an air of irritation in his voice as he stood in a sharp, quick motion. "I'd really rather not have to fucking clean up after ya as well," words mumbled and given shape by thick smoke he'd half reinhale before pressing it from the corner of his smirked mouth.

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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: Apr 29 2017, 02:57 AM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



He’d noticed the leaning presence. Straightened himself as the smoke of his cigarettes furled outwards, like a twenty-people convoy announcing his arrival. As he approached, with a strut, with a waddle, with that confident, and mellow walk that Lito was currently incapable of calling innocent; right now, nothing was.

Lito, then?

The words reached him, and stood up right, Lito didn’t answer. His eyes shone bright.

He didn’t realize it, and the harsh music of the released adrenaline kept him poised and alive. And when the red of the man’s gaze showed itself, like the toll of a bell signaling death, Lito almost launched to bleach it black; rip the eyes out and leave them as empty sockets. It took everything and then nothing to stand himself still. His beating heart only saw the word fight, and his mind was all narrowed, down on the vampire who squatted like ignorant of Lito's possible inner war. Were Lito that much more of a slave to his wolf, he’d have done the thing that human side in him didn’t even bother explaining. He watched the man instead, permitting the yellow in his gaze to fade. And when the vampire stood up, snapping, Lito remained his calm, and curt self.

“He’s alive.”

Without concern, he walked around them, building distance between himself and the vampire and stepping back as though to view the scene as would an outsider.

It was messy. And yet his calm remained unabated, the cool of his expression stalwart as a rock, ears preening to pick up on any sound and confirm what he’d told the vampire-- he’s alive. He listened, and heard it, so shy; thump-thump, thump-thump.

Alive.

Lito lifted his gaze off the man. Landed it on the vampire, slowly, slowly too, immediately unhappy with the overall looks on him, with the presence of that filthy stick.

He said nothing.

“Soren,” echoed that, “or Thad. Either brother was intended to be my contact. Very well.”

Cool and practical, a man on a job, he returned himself close to the vampire, though this approach wasn’t one marked with anticipation. When he faced him, looking him in the eyes, his own calm and intelligent, it was in a wait for the returned flash of the red. Lito hunted the man’s eyes for it, almost, like a hound dog sniffing the ground for the last track of the escaping prey. And when it would come, that circle of red--

Lito, slowly, looked away. Off to the side, though his attention remained also on the man, peripherally, like feeling him out with his presence. “Let’s go then. You were to inform me of the job.”

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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: May 1 2017, 04:48 PM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



The heart of him, of this man who'd seen fit to dispatch a trio in an alley like it were his fucking job to do as much (the cheek of him, yeah?!), waxed poetic about his state of mind. It was a difficult thing to ignore for a man so hellbent on sating an itch that would never be sated. Eased and dampened, surely but erased? The fates were cruel and had other plans for him, or so they'd stated centuries ago. Ignored its bleating as it stood; threat. An idle one if he had any say in the matter. Spritely as he might be, standing there all piss and vinegar and ready to fight, he was youth and in that was fallible under the whims of something centuries his senior. Surely it would take a bit of forceful finesse, as it often did with those unwilling to bend and listen, but that Soren could stop him erased the heat behind his threat like snow tossed against the sands of the desert. Soren ignored Lito's heart and checked for life signs, a scuffle would be nothing of note, a death on the other hand.

There was surely some trace of the wolf here among the not dead, surely.

All were living and the issue was erased as efficiently as the wolf's steps were in the direction opposite. Soren would watch, from his crouch, eyes dimming into something dark. A color lost in the shadow of the alley to simply be called 'dark'. Stood himself where he'd been, his attention surveying the mess, the whole of him rather unmoved by feelings as he seemed more invested in the cigarette at the crook of his mouth than he did the trio scattered at his feet.

Stepped over the one he'd checked as the wolf spoke, his feet slowing though he'd not pause so much as cock a brow at the other. Soren, or Thad. If ever there was a possibility to fuck over Thad's good name-- "The former," drawled in that lazy listless manner that should have caused choking, carelessly spat out in a manner that would see it dribbled down the front of him rather than labeling it vitriol.

Soren's feet would finally pause as the wolf shifted, stood them in the middle of it all, the wolf too close and the beating of his heart still too fevered his brow would quirk gently as he regarded this Lito and his intent to regard Soren in turn. He looked to have some need in ferreting something from the vampire. Whatever he was on the search for Soren would assume him to be sorely disappointed in his attempts at location. Hazel, soft and flecked with vibrant green, shifted over Lito's face. Lacking much of anything beyond their ability to stare he'd note his features, the slight bruise where he'd not been lucky enough to dodge everything and the quiet split of his lip. Scented him better from this distance and set him to war against the need to bleed red into his vision.

He wasn't here to tussle with his contact.

Like two dogs in a park, they sized each other and in Lito's shift away Soren would find the profile of him far more becoming than that of his calm. The shift of his fingers, one to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and the other to swipe a ghosted pressure against the side of wolf's chin would see the very ruby essence that leaked and dried there, stolen, even as he shifted himself onward. No pretense, no asking, only stealing out-rightly and moving on. The substance is pressed to his tongue as he steps over the last of the trio and wanders deeper into the alley.

The flash of red is had, lost behind the shuttering of his eyes.

Cig filters the taste from his mouth a moment later.

"Simple enough. Some low man on the totem pole fucked off and missed his drop day. We ferret... or rather you do. We determine whether he's worth the trouble. If not, we rid the market of him."

His saunter was lazy but pointed, shifted him forward in a need to get them from A to B without issue. He had a feeling their mark wasn't worth the trouble, guilty until proven innocent in Soren's eyes, always.

"Shouldn't take long. Last seen a block from here," words marred by smoke that's pressed from lungs in an upward stream. He wasn't completely uncouth. "Some water fae, selkie, kelpie, one of them,"

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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: May 2 2017, 12:45 PM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



The former, then.

Soren.

Lito didn’t let the name echo. Moving on from the bodies, and the scene, and which had all begun it, he stood facing the vampire, certain this was one of the many things he’d look at once down the line, and regret. He’d look at this as the folly of youth, typical for the age, normal, though still hated. He faced Soren, and wasn’t sure he liked being known back. To have his name, or a nickname rather, borrowed from a book once read and forever coveted, known by the man of his dark and cold gaze, whispered in his ragged lilt, with his rugged appearance and cigarette. Soren stood himself a bit too close, touched him, and Lito’s eyes automatically shone.

Yellow and defiant. Without an according emotional reaction, cold, too.

He walked after the vampire, though wouldn’t recall stepping out to follow. He would, however, recall stalking the man’s broad back, and stalking his narrow, pretty hips like on a woman. Lito stalked him with his gaze, unforgiving for the touch. For the presence.

For the theft. His eyes remained that gorgeous pale yellow, like the sun. He listened, but didn’t say much.

“Hm.”

Said nada.

Joined the vampire eventually, slanting him a look just as yellow in his eyes went home; became brown again, still colder to its natural warmth. Lito turned to face forward, silent.

Ferret. Investigate. He could deal with that. But as they rounded the corner and walked on down their dark alley road, Lito had to point out--

“Smell? Do you have any of his? Also.”

He looked at the man--

Wanted to reach for the cigarette. Some distant notion of respect stopped him-- respect not for the man, but himself. He didn’t want to scuffle over a technicality, let alone land himself an affair with wrath over a stomped cigarette. Still, Lito came to a stop, reaching out to curl his hand around Soren’s bicep in a touch that he hated (it was like revenge). He stopped the man and removed his touch the moment he could. Crossed the short distance that Soren had wrongly claimed before stopped. They stood closer to the mouth of the alley and Lito faced Soren, necessarily bringing up, “I’d appreciate if you weren’t smoking while I was ferreting. The stench will get in the way. Also--”

He glanced to his left and out on the open street, staring there. Whatever he saw there, likely nothing important, frowned his brows, and he lowered his gaze.

He looked back to Soren.

“I’ll need more information about him. His scent. Do you think something of his? Do you know how he looks or his name?”

Are you capable? Lito would hope the answer was yes-- if Soren was here, it had to be, and yet prior knowledge told Lito Soren may have been a mere carrier pigeon, present to keep guard over a completed job before off to confirm with the interested parties that Lito had completed his end of the bargain. Problem was, at the moment, Lito wasn't sure if he was capable; tossed in the dark, he was left to fumble, and the ill preparation didn't bode well at all.

--------------------
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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: May 2 2017, 10:17 PM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



Not much of a talker this one. For the best and if he were being honest, he wasn't either and thus they'd fit together well enough. A thought that smirked his mind towards things that had nothing to do with conversation. The smell of him, the fevered pitch of his hear, all of it sung to some part of him that remembered what he'd tasted like in those brief moments between the touch of his blood on his tongue and the erasing of it from his cigarette. He didn't deserve the taste, not even in the least but he'd savor the sweet heady flavor of it as it etched itself into his mind. No part of him felt guilty after the notion of pegging the taste under some file he'd note as favored. Sought after and hunted.

Soren and his wolves.

"Mmm," a quiet hum as they wandered, an answer to his question though it wasn't answer at all so much as the soft nod of his head was. Eyes forward and mind still somewhere off in the back of his mind where teeth punctured flesh just as readily as others slipped a dick into somewhere as equally warm and willing. Of course, to assume he'd also not-- His feet stopped, those of the wolf anyway, his fingers curling around Soren's arm to pull him to equal stop. They stood too close again, not close like lovers but close enough to speak in tones that needed little air to produce themselves. A quiet chuckle would shift smoke from his lungs. "Would ya?" Words marred by that same offensive smoke before the rest was blown overhead with a cock of his brow.

The questions continued as Soren took the last viable drag from the cig between his fingers, its end finding the ground and smudged into the pavement to ashen the ground a bit. "Never met him, couldn't tell ya, but his name's Robert. I think he went by Bill," a shrug. They could likely shout either at him and he'd respond so what he preferred mattered little to Soren, he'd been given Robert. Digging into the inner pocket of his jacket he'd produce a handkerchief, nothing fancy but it was carefully folded into a tight square. Pinched between two fingers he offered it into the void between them.

"Mind the blood,"

A casual note before he slipped out of the alley and crossed the short distance to step off the sidewalk, waited for the cars to clear before crossing the street to the little park, one of thousands that dotted this fair city of theirs, a few block occurrence, some need to keep the outside in, or whatever it was they thought it would do. Didn't help at all with the fucking smog so why bother?

His frame itched with need, hands shoved into pockets he'd brood over the need to quench his growing hunger with smoke that he'd been chided from. The smell of wolf just beside would furrow his brows a bit.

"Last they saw him was up here on the right, tucked beside the bar,"

Even his voice was irritable.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Robert had missed a drop to pick up but his drop had been dropping off. There was a lot a man could get himself into with a weekend of sales. Hanging back a bit Soren would fidget and watch as the wolf did whatever was needed to pick up the trail. His eyes pinned to the other as he found what he was looking for. Feet moved effortlessly in following, a step behind eventually, but the lead up would press his gaze down the length of him, noting toned and broad shoulders and the calm that permeated the steps he took. Already so golden eyes Soren had his doubts after anything beyond business but that had never stopped him before--

No rush.

He'd follow the blocks it took before they slipped from the sidewalk to the alley system once more. They'd not get far before the veil of red clouded his eyes. "Smell that?" Of course he did.

Blood.

Slowing his red gaze would pin itself to a wall, the brick absorbing the liquid all too readily, though the small puddle of it on the ground was good enough to scent from a mile away. Squatted, pressed and dragged his fingers against its dried surface to peel a bit off. Squished between his fingers the fragrance would splinter and open, bloomed like a rose. "Not his, but that over there is. Four hours or so ago," a scuffle. Unsurprising, a man with cash and or drugs would have been inviting trouble like painting a target on his back. Likely lived nearby somewhere. Brushing his fingers off he'd stand and continue. The whole of the alley unfurled into a storyboard as they wandered, turning a corner and spit out into a small walkway on the far side of another ridiculous sprawling park.

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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: May 2 2017, 11:30 PM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



Soren put out his cigarette. There was, at least that. And then gave him a name and an object to find the man by. I am no dog, Lito wanted to say, but he realized if he mentioned a single thing, it wouldn’t be in any bothered way; he was no dog, and yet the handkerchief was exactly what he had asked for-- a once possession soaked in the smell of the hunted creature. Lito bunched it in his palm, and brought it to his nose like it were a thing of a lover, perfumed in their favorite fragrance. It did nothing to his eyes. Didn’t hood them, didn’t turn them thoughtful, just made him slowly look up at the vampire as though there were more to their interaction. Lito had to wonder if he and the man were the best pair for this job. Sometimes, more was just that-- more, and Lito didn’t doubt they’d be seeing enough of each other’s compatibility (or lack thereof) tonight. He nodded at the man, the scent embedded into his memory. They walked out onto the street, and crossed it.

A vampire and a shifter walking together was no promise of good news. Lito was too old-fashioned to think otherwise of the situation. While his own life seemed a constant contradiction to his words, he’d insist, he’d push, vampires and shifters were natural enemies and thus their interaction, if it didn’t end in a bloodbath, was one peculiar. But that didn’t exactly mean that didn’t belong to each other. They crossed to the other end, the torrent of cars at their backs speeding on past without any desire to slow down. The traffic lights barely held them down. Lito noted Soren’s words, and glanced between buildings, and all the narrow, tight spaces, and all the people hanging out around the bar, before walking out where he’d pointed. Last night wasn’t enough to actually pick up on the scent-- too long had passed, too many people, too many interferences-- and he wasn’t a dog to literally sink himself on the ground.

His pride of a wolf, and the vampire’s noxious presence continued to irk him for no better reasons than just ‘was’; they were-- there, at his back, keeping his back frozen straight and his ego a clear interference. But when Lito was just about to think he’d neglect his current duties, and get in the wrong graces with the black market, some man brushed past him and as their shoulders bumped, the scent of the prey drifted up. It wasn’t strong.

Looked like a mere shoulder bump with their sea creature, but the point he’d exited from, another sprawling and winding alley had Lito looking down it in a glance cool and half hoping. He may have wanted to trail back after the man he'd bumped into, but his instinct, purely animal in being, had him riveted on some point, not budging. He started down there, the handkerchief actually still in his hand, and the scent it gave off a mixture of sweat and hormones. His eyes shone yellow purely as some nod to the wolf. It was in charge now, its instincts taking over. The hunt had begun, his impulses stirring alive. And not that far in he crouched by the liquid where Soren joined him, though he didn’t touch it. Flickered his gaze up to watch as Soren did, something disapproving giving a brief flash in Lito’s gaze-- too brief to matter, and then dismissed. An hour, huh?

More like half an hour. Lito spread the handkerchief out and dipped it into the mostly dried substance, giving it a good second coating of the fading the scent. Then he lifted it up and folded it in two, and re-inhaled, his eyes a strong yellow. He stalked out where people didn’t. The drenching dark of the alleys and their narrow paths were an immediate turn off to anyone who valued their life, but the scent thickened, leading Lito down a perfurmed path that had his senses reeling from the acquired hunt. Stepping out into the pavement once more, Lito was quick to cross the road with carelessness, the cars almost hitting the duo and yet managing to stop.

Good. Lito had focused his entire being on the scent, so strong now that if snapped out of his state, he’d just lose it entirely. They walked to a park opposite of the alley they’d walked out of it, a gathering of trees and benches with a number of stands to sell ice-cream for when the weather was right for it. Walking cautiously, his hand with the possession still out and by his side, Lito maneuvered around something on the ground nobody would have really noticed, a splattering of blood with the drops far apart. He gazed at them, his body responding with blood-lust. And started out down the pavement, before stepping off it onto some beaten off track that lost them between the trees. The handkerchief was tossed at Soren just as they ducked under overhanging branches.

Lito rammed into the man they’d found there, and brought him violently to the ground.

“Fuck!” screamed the man, Robert, Billy, god, what even was his name, possibly Billiam, and Lito gave him a look cold, a chilling, emotionless warning that stilled the struggling man by instinct, as though in one part at least he understood threat and when he faced it; animals were not to be tempted, mostly as they looked so devoid of care. Atop him, pinning his body over the ground and his hands above his head, Lito just stared down at the sea creature, and told Soren, not looking his way--

“You take over.”

After all, Soren knew more, didn’t he?

The captured selkie hissed. His blood smelled a bit like watered down by the sea, a scent that wrinkled Lito’s nose somewhat and softened that glare of a monster. Almost put off by it, as it was no succulent and mouth-watering meat, he looked down at the man with one part due regret, pitying the fate of a man who’d just gotten himself tangled up in bad business. His side was bleeding, his story, as it unfolded, a bit lame; fall in love, the girl needs money, give her everything, double his debt but give her everything-- she fucks off and leaves him behind, cheated, indebted. On the run from all the people he left in the ditch over pussy. Wasn’t that uncommon of a tale if only he’d fucked with the wrong people, and fucked himself over hard enough it put to question how he expected himself to survive.

But his panting, an obstruction at cases, revealed also a starved pursuit after evening the debts, and every venture into the bar to hustle men at the pools. He did have money to pardon his stunt there, not enough but he had also the want to get back in good graces with the black market, since only in the movies did the men fervently shout get fucked; only there were they as consistently stupid as in to overlook they faced a real threat. Lito, hearing all this, just frowned at the man, slowly leaning up to bring his arms by his side. He looked at Soren.

“Well, what’s the verdict?”

Worth the future hassle, another chance? He was apologetic… and a bit delirious, which made sense if he’d gotten himself beaten up and stabbed by a bunch of drunkards he’d hustled out of too much money and run from. Lito looked at him, with evident pity.

--------------------
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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: May 4 2017, 10:16 PM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



They hunted, the pair of them were like some ill-fated duo that shouldn't have been at all. Opposites that did not attract. Well-- Opposites that should not be, his mind would correct as they wandered the alley and its smattering of blood, traces of a prolonged scuffle that would wane as they continued. Soren likely could have followed the trail himself for all its droppings along the way. Furled his brow a bit as they wandered, one bright-eyed and the other stalking and irritable. Veins itched and the closeness of the wolf was an overwhelming source of furthered irritation, a statue erected just off in his peripheral to entice with perfectly timed steps and skin that wrapped around every inclination to fight. He would, or so Soren would peg him. Rile against the thought of a man sinking teeth through his flesh, mattered not if it was soothed with offering of pleasure or not. For however embedded he was in the black market this Lito he stalked alleys with, was not a man who stood in his mind as pliant enough to take one in exchange for the other.

A pity really, his mind would regard quietly as he flickered his gaze upon a pause, to outline the form of him there.

A tease shaped like wolf.

Lito's focus was elsewhere and in the moment they stepped into the park Soren would catch why. The smell of him, salted and watery clung to the breeze like it were meant better for this place than the sea itself.

The wolf was off and in his haste the handkerchief tainted of blood is caught and shoved back into the vampire's pocket as he followed behind. A collision would come, made of violence at the ready. Toppled them. Felled a man who'd been on the run from himself for days. Poured them to the ground and he'd struggle, bleeding he scented the air vibrant and red, a color that sung sweetly to the insides of a man that hungered so acutely. Wild-eyes pinned to the wolf as he stated plainly for his counterpart to get on with it, when they flickered over to the second man, red-eyed and crouched beside too close to be ignored, there was fear in his blue eyes.

Soren smirked quietly, the soft of his bloodied gaze glowed, its intensity wrapped around magic.

"Go on then, why'd ya miss your drop, Robert?"

There'd come no means of him escaping the answer and so he'd spill it better than his side did blood. Leaked it between lips in a hurry to see it out and done with. His fate to be determined by a man who had little to no use for love, a boat battered against rocks, useless in its ability to change the shape of said rocks at all. Placidly Soren listened and cared so little for any of it, his focus rather, was on the rapid bleating of the heart in the other's chest, a song bird that sang just for him. Sang of an end already determined before he'd left the office he'd been forced into with a man he cared less for than this one pinned beneath wolf.

"Your silence doesn't bode well for you,"

"I know but--"

"Should have contacted the half-man, he'd have cried over your story, I'm sure,"

Blubbering, a hurried mush of apologies with a heavy smattering of love Soren cared nothing for.

"Love doesn't belong in this world if you've no means to keep it,"

Choose your love wisely if you were mingled in a market stained black. He'd frown, shifting slightly as the wolf asked after his verdict. It'd already been chosen but he'd move anyway, gathered material in his hand and slid it back to reveal the wounded side of a man yet blubbering over his sob story. Tongue would wet his lips before he stood. Gaze red and focused on the finite point, a wound deep and weeping better than the man it was attached too. "Let him up," it wasn't like he was going to flee any faster than either of them could catch him. Wolf shifted off and a hand is offered to the selkie, one which he'd take, tentatively before he was pulled to his feet. The grasp of his hand would tighten as he yanked the other, flushed them in some half-hug that rode their cheeks and pressed his red gaze to the fevered beating of a vein. "You know how this works," contrition would mingle with a deep bought of ceding, licked from his tongue as they stood there.

He knew.

No one entered into this world without such knowledge.

The fight in his frame went pliant as fangs unfurled and sank themselves in.

He'd offer no reprieve from the pain, this was punishment not the soft sweeping end of a life beloved. The red of his eyes would watch the wolf a moment, gauged his ability to remain where he was before he lost himself in the draw. There wasn't a lot left, not enough to make it worth his while before the pile of man at his feet was rendered final. Phone in empty hand he'd call the wendigo, that chained beast that sat at his master's heels.

"Thirty."

Thirty minutes and then they were done with this.

Leaned against a tree red-eyed and peering Soren would study the wolf, try to make sense of where he stood on this matter, eventually he'd simply drawl lowly. "We had no choice in this matter," it wasn't an excuse to make the other feel better. "Most men, no matter their debts owed, are too soft to slide willingly into a contract with death already stamped at its end." A brow would rise, mattered little that he'd lied. His form slid forward, pushed off the tree to wander nearer the wolf, a thumb sliding against own chin to catch the rivulet, as ruby as his eyes. Neared though he hardly moved as threat but rather curious monster circling another. Testing perhaps.

"What's the measure of you, wolf? Did you offer him your silent condolences?"

Slipped the pad of his thumb between his lips with a soft smirk.

--------------------
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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: May 6 2017, 03:30 AM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



He let him up. And the man did rise, but Lito, as he observed the exchange, was getting that nagging, and bad impression of a horrible end that didn’t make sense in the context. He was no innocent man. He’d say that. And as a man of his own sin, he understood that sometimes you had to do the things you hated. He had his own sin. He’d repeat that. And as a man of sin, sin which he’d not even buried in his past and not even moved on (it would be cheeky in Lito's thoughts, kind of like forgetting every past murder and pretending them imagined), there were transgressions he easily forgave.

And still punished the parties for. Forgiveness, after all, didn’t mean a lot in Lito’s world. He forgave, he punished, he forgot and then if his part in something was discovered, he accepted the related punishment. No wrong performed should go unpunished. His simple, and straightforward logic, he’d defend, did have it curves and crannies. And when Soren what he did, staring into Lito’s eyes cheekily for it, and then when he dropped the man he’d exhausted and walked forward to flaunt with the blood on his lips, Lito swung his arm back and buried it in Soren’s face.

“Aren’t you just right?”

His fist didn’t throb.

It did, actually, because this body of his was as susceptible to pain and misery as anyone else’s.

But Lito’s focus, known to be blinding, known to be akin to that of a hound dog’s on a mission, no injury paid a thought until the task was over, didn’t recognize the gentle throb along his knuckles he felt upon the contact.

He’d punched Soren, and the air around him rank of blood, and regret.

Should he have stopped Soren?

Lito looked down at the dead man, and then up at Soren.

Yeah.

“I have no choice in this,” he told Soren, his tone calm. He lifted his hand, still balled into a fist-- this, then, referred to the punch he’d given him, hard and barely satisfying. In fact, just a single punch compared to wine-tasting, a shy single chomp given to an experience so rich and juicy; the lust for fight that Lito so easily felt bled gold into his eyes. He felt the need in his body, that hard, adrenaline-fueled thirst, almost evident though to any onlooker, as he understood, an impossibility. Him? A man of such obvious countenance?

Wanting to pound someone until macerated?

Bullshit.

Be he drove himself into Soren, and rammed him into the very tree where the man had leaned. Locked his arm under Soren's neck to keep the man on the spot and relatively, and temporarily contained. There was no stopping his hands, of course, and the half-flushed state of their bodies was nothing that couldn't be quickly upended; in a quick tousle of body versus body, no touch, no distance was lasting. But that wasn't the point here.

He should have stopped him. He should have stopped Soren. If the Black Market were an easy mistress, he would have.

“What will you tell your superiors?” he wondered, coolly. “That the contact, that the wolf with his debt, punched you? If you do, could you add it’s because you were cheeky and full of it?”

Lito cocked his head, and arched his brows.

"Am I done here?"

--------------------
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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: May 6 2017, 01:52 PM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



He wondered, simply, and he'd get his answer. It came in the burial of knuckles against his face, a thing that would split skin that knitted itself back together again. Easily on both accounts. The blood that trickled and the soft step to the side taken as needed upon impact would smirk him softly. When his gaze slanted itself back it was yet that defiant red, not shining or cast over in menace so much as simply a product of defense after the cheek in turn of cheek. The gaze itself was quiet and amused as he regarded the wolf. Obviously, his silent condolences had been given, his thoughts given to this man who'd been doomed long before either had been placed on this course.

"No?"

The corner of his mouth would quirk as he eyed the other. Had no choice in it, then who'd made it? The fist never thought for itself, was a product of want and will. A tool.

Soren couldn't bother to find offense, didn't have it in him to be riled over the thought process of a thing neither of them had a choice in. Did he enjoy the over-salted taste that yet lingered on his tongue? The taste of impending death as one simply gave themselves into the hands of the fates they knew they couldn't outrun? Not particularly. Should have let him run, though he'd not have been good prey in the least, dragging himself around and sloshing his liquid everywhere, like a drunk wrapped in a too animated telling of a story.

The wolf wasn't done and Soren would find the tree he'd only just been leaned against pressed to his back. Teeth gritted and his amusement too toothy he'd watch the wolf as he settled himself there. It wasn't like Soren was going anywhere, not like he needed this cage to keep him on spot. While he wasn't harmless, neither was he in the mood to tussle in the middle of a park either. The soft gap between his lips shined dangerous teeth, thing's hes slip back and away as he stood there watching Lito curiously.

No struggle was made to free himself.

"Do I look like the petulant child, wolf? What the fuck do they care over me... over your emotional reactions?" A brow would rise as he tisked quietly, chin cocking gently to one side. "You ask like you don't think they already know this. The best of us aren't the ones damned to this job, after all," they knew what he was, just as they knew what Lito was. Not the best of this world though certainly not the worst of it either.

His smirk was cold and faint as fingers shifted to curl into the sides of Lito's top, held him fast a moment before the space between them was erased in a tug that saw them flushed, one heated with selkie and the other with his own adrenaline. There was nothing there to flush beyond the lean hard of their tall frames, nothing to make the moment poignant beyond the proximity of body heat and colored eyes still warring with one another.

"If you'd like to be,"

Soren wasn't one who'd bother with games, he'd relay the job done as it had been, wasn't offended and would find no real rise to be fuck over one who'd done well enough to stand on his own. Debt or not.

"Have you ever been hunted, wolf?" A brow would rise as he eyed the other, there was no threat in his voice, a simple question. Flat and unassuming. "You'd be a good one, so much fight," the corner of his mouth would twitch a little, a brief smirk. "Maybe someday, we do all have our favorites," almost wistful, his fingers would loosen their grip, on fabric, cheeky haughty things that saw fit to squeeze themselves around a waist narrow in comparison to the broad of Lito's shoulders.

Maybe someday.

Maybe hours from now.

Who ever really knew with the fickle wants of a the easily aroused?

--------------------
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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: May 6 2017, 05:52 PM
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



“That you do.”

Look like a petulant child. Lito tried to organize his thoughts. Even if he understood that the underworld wasn’t too forgiving, this man clearly had been well on his way to pay his debts. He’d been trying, and effort promised something worth more than the figurative hand wave that saw him buried six feet under. He’d not deserved it. Had Lito been braver, and he blamed cowardice, he could have interfered. Standing still while the murder went on made him an accomplice by bearing witness. If he were any brave again, he’d take it to the police. Report this crime at least for the ease of own conscience. It shouldn’t matter that they’d be hard-pressed to move even the weakest arms of the seedy city underbelly. They were helpless by default, but Lito imagined himself meeting his death in his holding cell, offed by some hired gun who was, just like Soren here, just doing his part. Have to make the ends meet somehow.

But it didn’t excuse being a shit about it. Lito’s eyes narrowed, and he inspected the vampire he faced. When Soren curled his hands in Lito’s top, yanking him close, there was some odd, emotionless concern in Lito that he thought he’d borrowed from the very chick flick movies he never watched. The concern was nothing he actually dared to name; too impossible, too romantic and unhealthy in the context. He looked at Soren's lips, and then back up into his gaze.

Lito cocked his head. His eyes, despite everything, were calm, his neutrality perhaps belying inner struggle. He watched. And slowly lowered his hand, bringing it down to Soren’s. Lito curled his hand around Soren’s wrist, and slowly pulled the arm off in the same instance as he stepped off. Eventually, no part of him was touching the vampire. It was just them, entertaining the notion of this polite distance of a foot, one man smirking, the other of calm, detached exterior which appeared in no part important-- if you overlooked, that is, the fact he’d not looked away from Soren for a bit. He wouldn’t. His vision and world were narrowing down on the vampire, and Lito could only politely and calmly note--

“By? You? You needed help hunting him.”

There was a brief pause.

“There’s not a lot of threat I feel. But if we’re having this conversation, feel free to be my presumed first. You wouldn’t be the first one to end up getting bored.”

By an animal that good at running? Had he just implied that about himself? Perhaps he had. Perhaps, the more he talked the more he’d undermine himself, spewing bullshit without sense and reason as long as he generally talked. There was the look on him, however, all of his energy, and his might poured into it to give his gaze that golden appearance. He felt it in his hands, that itchy power. It ached to be used. He balled his hands.

In his mind, however, his statement had pointed to the obvious: no hunter enjoying hunting prey that just wouldn’t be caught. There was no catching him, though this title he’d slapped on himself almost asked to be challenged.

Lito watched Soren--

And began backing away.

Slowly, a meandering backpedal that widened the distance between them, and Lito rolled his shoulder back, until of some pathetic distance away either supernatural man may have tackled without a problem. Lito looked down at the dead man in a flicker, and felt actual responsibility for his perdition. If he had stepped in, it would have earned him a death sentence from the market. His problem but the pack he’d have dragged into the concern by fault didn’t deserve that. Lito watched the man for a second and then up at Soren, giving him a passive, strange look.

Then Lito held his arm up, outstretched towards Soren.

His wrist was naked and the beating vein as sweet as the sound it echoed.

“You’ll need my blood if you want to track me down.”

--------------------
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Søren Skjeggestad
 Posted: May 8 2017, 12:34 AM
215 posts
puppeted by Sarah
Ren/'Hey Asshole'
PST he/him/his
job
Cleaner @ black market // mechanic
species
Vampire
group
Pravilo Nest
sexuality
Pansexual
status
smitten kitten
age
970
mature
Ye'h bitch
Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it. My skin will scream, reminding me of who I killed inside my dream.
murder muffin



The wolf would pull himself away, stepped himself back and Soren wouldn't follow but rather stood there and watched, features stark though amused at their edges, like even in this movement he found the other's presence ridiculous. This place wasn't his, this moment hadn't been his. Mattered little if he'd witnessed a death, he was something else than this world entirely. Smelled faintly of too many others, was too calm and even when he stood in an alley with blood running down his face, bodies at his feet, there was no manic edge to his eyes. He wasn't made for the shadows, though neither for the light, of that Soren was certain. Some gray in between would house him best and yet still--

Soren's mouth would hitch into a smirk deep and resounding. Let the other think of him as he wished. Let him confuse laze with inability. While the moment had gone by faster with the help of a nose better adapted, Soren could have found the stuck pig through the brush well enough on his own. Need in this case, was too strong a word to warrant truth.

"Shall we test that theory?"

Drawled with the hitch of a brow, his interest wasn't so easily shaken free of, even if he took no pleasures in that which the wolf seemed to thirst after. The balling of his fist and the energy that coursed beneath his skin, hummed in the pounding of his heart and the rushing of blood in his veins. If there were interest, if there was want, Soren wasn't so easily swayed from course. Perhaps not a course he'd wander down in a manner straight or narrow, might not even call it interest at all, title it repeat coincidence or something equally as ridiculous, but he'd will it to repeat itself until he was satisfied he'd found the end he'd been hunting for all the while.

Prey.

He'd entitle the wolf as such as he backed himself away, though the glint in his golden eyes was nothing so pliant, Soren would track him. The length of his stride and the shift of his hip, how much give it had and how much distance he could span if given proper room to move. Watched him in a gaze studious, a thing he'd not hinder or hide, his intent had already been issued so no point in it anyway. He'd not get far before he paused himself to look over Robert. In that scant minute he'd shift himself a bit, pushed himself off the tree to stand, not straight or tall but shake off the mislabeled inability.

And then the most peculiar thing would happen and it'd bring no hesitation from the vampire as he strode himself forward. Wanting if you judged by the soft red tinge to his eye. Shifted himself forward to grasp hold of the offered wrist, his proximity too close, the moment made too intimate as fangs unfurled and sunk into flesh, tore through vein and poured red across his tongue. Every sweet and beloved flavor of him. Pulled himself back seconds later, needed only the hint of him there. It stained his lips even as he leaned the scant space and murmured too haughtily against lips he'd not so much as pucker and press himself to.

"Go on then, run."

Arm long since released Soren would straighten himself to swipe the red from his lower lip before shifting his attention back to Robert and his stilled form. Voice muttering softly over a shoulder as shifted to keep watch over and wait-- "See you soon, wolf."

It'd take the wendigo less time than expected, by minutes maybe though once he'd shown the moment was over and done with in as much time as it took to carry a body to a trunk. Robert closed behind a trunk lid and Soren would leave the wendigo to clean what he willed of the park as he strode off with a promise ripe on his tongue. One not so easy to follow once he'd reached the end of the park, shifter healing leaving behind less than it should have. Not an impossible task but one which fueled his gaze red and shifted his feet in a course predetermined by another.

--------------------
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Antonio Delgado
 Posted: 6 minutes ago
102 posts
puppeted by Eien
Tony/Lito
GMT +1 he/him
job
Furore alpha
species
shifter
group
Furore pack
sexuality
bisexual
status
single
age
166
mature
hell yea tho good luck with him lmao
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
N/A
the aberrant type



Soren bit into the offered flesh. There was no particular reaction on Lito’s part. His heart hammered, rushing blood to the man’s mouth as though his body were subconsciously eager to relinquish its life. But just as eagerly as it had rushed it would find itself cut off from the faucet; quickly, easily the wound would reknit, not on the spot though with a certain eventuality that saw Lito draw his arm back by his side and watch Soren like right now, right here, right on this very spot he’d attack. Wipe the smirk from his face as many would concur, quoting many a character and promises flung at this vampire.

Lito didn’t care about his smirk.

He didn’t really care about his cheek. And instead of running, Lito turned on the spot and calmly walked out. He had no interest to meet with the men who’d been summoned here to dispose of a body-- none to cross paths further with Soren’s sort. He’d done enough crossing. Debt repaid, he dug his own little hole of violence. If he had the smarts he promised he had, or his degrees claimed he had, he’d not have offered his wrist, not tangled with the man. Wouldn’t have. If you had a bunch of would-have’s stalking your ass, chances were you had the shit coming your way.

At least Lito, for his temporary (temporary? Many a temporaries in his lifetime) judgment relapse, knew that he had himself to blame for anything that happened. As he crossed the street and casually placed distance between himself and the vampire, he knew he’d caused this himself. But his affair with Soren, not yet perfectly tinged red, felt like one doomed for an early end. After all, there was no stopping that obnoxious shrinking wound of his, by now so small that within the following few minutes it’d be gone. Lito raised his fingers to it, and waited. He stood on the spot, and waited. Moved a bit farther away, and waited. His was a meander. No place to rush to, no reason to hurry along. And as he tucked himself into the very alleyways that spelled Soren’s name, he did so with the advantage of time on his hands, as was the impression given.

That way, his lingering steps cemented his scent in the air, not persistently enough to last as long as to be found an hour down the line but lingering, fervent enough that when enough time had passed and Lito found himself leaning against the wall of one of the many alleys in the city, the prickling sensation shooting up his spine told him he was being hunted. Lito’s eyes bled golden and he moved from the spot.

He didn’t get too far. Hadn’t aimed to. His scent, so potent otherwise, would be hidden behind the cloak of two bums he’d found sitting by the wall on the ground, their legs rolled out and their relaxed looks spliced with resignation. But they didn’t matter. He turned the corner there, disappearing into the darkness of another alley--

When Soren ducked into it a minute or two later, hunting as par his oath, Lito’s body collided exactly into his, propelled forth in a move that drove Soren into some wall opposite of where he’d moved. The pair of bums jumped, startled, and stared at the pair in confusion. Lito rammed Soren into the wall, and locked his arm below the man’s chin, forcing his head up.

“How’s the hunt?” he asked, his eyes bright.

Then he swung his other arm back, and aimed it at Soren’s face.

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