F E R A L || F A N G @bxdtrip-blog - Tumblr Blog

#;; out of fangs #Probs final post EVERRRR here #And for aaaanyone that might still remember me #Or want to play #Or is curious about where this fuzzball has gone #I has returned from a long sabbatical #And shall be henceforth here #For the benefit of all my old buddies :)#SuRPRISE! SWAN'S STILL AROUND

And the silence returns like a harsh and unforgiving winter. She slumps against him, a long sigh drawn from lungs that no longer need to fill. "Dean." There's already the faintest disapproval there. "You can't sit here forever. The quicker you start working with me, the easier I can make this on you." The hand slips from carding through his hair to ghosting over his spine. "I hate seeing you so upset." He's no doubt less agreeable because he needs a good meal. One she'll have to drag back again.

She's like a damn cat with the way she lays on him. It speaks of a familiarity that is forced upon the unwilling, on the unwanting. She knows him better than he will ever know her, and all of it is stolen knowledge.

He might have liked her. Grown to like her more than a one night stand. She was beautiful and smart. Funny when she wanted to be and thoughtful. Nurturing, if nothing else.

Such a shame she proved to be a soulless monster who'd taken his life and raised a puppet in place of a man. A painfully self aware puppet.

" Then maybe y' should have kept y' fangs to yourself. "

A weighted sight bleeds into the air.

" You go. I'll catch up. "

Or not.

Either way.

#V;; Tear You Apart #savedyourass

"A few." Was there ever a question? She has no shame in admitting it. Just as little in committing the deeds. "Honestly, I've only got the munchies." He, on the other hand, is a fledgling. A fledgling still so resistant to the instinct. All that effort to stay in control makes the hunger worse. Makes the control weak. It's a sad cycle really. "Would you feel better if I let you pick who?" Like a child getting to make their own choice for lunch. Yet the freedom was often what made him shy away.

The answer is no. It's always no. As it always should be.

He wonders if this would have been easier if he had been a killer to begin with. If he had been a soldier, or a policeman, or a serial killer.

As it stands, he had been a mechanic. And that made it no easier.

The only death he's ever known had been the loss of his parents. A pale and distant notion compared to waking from a stupor, with his teeth in some poor bastard's neck.

He opts for silence, his expression tormented even as he turns his head away from her. She might purr and plead as she likes, but he can hold his tongue.

Like a petulant child denied that which he truly desires, he guards his want with jealous hatred - memories of a stolen life seeping like tears from a fractured existence.

He still finds himself wondering when he will wake up from this nightmare.

#V;; Tear You Apart #savedyourass

The talking, that's progress. It's sad to see he's still in that bad hunor. It only draws her closer, mindlessly so, setting the point of her chin on his shoulder as she twists and ruffles his hair. "I was thinking dinner and a movie." It's like his tone doesn't faze her. "There's one of those nice old theaters on the edge of town. Or a bar, snice you're fond of those. Beer won't do much for you, but getting wasted isn't out of the question."

He wants to tell her where she can stick it. He wants to jerk away, scramble to the other side of the room. Hell, he'd settle for taking her goddamn throat out.

But he can't. He doesn't know how to even begin to fight the subservient compulsion that swims in his very veins now. It's all he can do to sit and wallow in his melancholy.

" And how many people gotta pay for your dinner? For your movie? "

The edge of his tone where once may have proven sharp as a knife is dull. Rusted. Words drag across gravel, his throat tight and his tongue heavy.

God, is he h u n g r y.

" How many people are going t'die tonight? "

#V;; Tear You Apart #savedyourass

Dean's gone quiet lately. It's tough on the newly turned, but she's a good sire. She brings him home doggy bags when he's too stubborn to give in and hunt. Sits with him, like she is now, nails skirting his scalp in a little massage. They say contact is important between a mother and child. Roxanne isn't sure who they is, but she has no reason to believe them wrong. "All your thinking is making /my/ head hurt. Why don't you come out with me tonight, bright eyes? It'll be fun."

He's ignoring her. He has been for the past week. Or he's doing his very best to.

Difficult when it feels as though she's in his head. When her very essence tugs upon his own. Like a l e a s h.

He feels bound. Tied. Tethered.

To her. To his hunger. To an endlessness that he didn't want. That he never wanted.

Though the word - - F U N - - he can't help but to snort at. A soundless act that has his shoulders jerking and a humorless smile twisting across pale lips.

" Cause rippin' people's throats out . . . that's fun."

The smile sours.

" Goddamn riot . . . "

#V;; Tear You Apart #savedyourass #HE'S AWAKE #SEE #COULDNT DO THIS BEFORE!!

bxdmoon replied to your photo “; ; humanized Just a heads up re: my extended absence!...”

DORIAN. omfg i have a Lavellan blog!

;; humanized

Hehehe - now that - THAT - is brilliant! If you wanna flick me the URL, I'd be happy to send Dorian on over! He does need his best and only friend, after all!

#bxdmoon #;; humanized

; ; humanized

Just a heads up re: my extended absence! Bit of a lapse in muse, an advance in life and some general time off has seen me back out of tumblr for a bit. Many apologies to people who have been waiting on things from me!

But I am dabbling again, and will likely return to Deano when the muse strikes. In the meantime, I shall be here.

Tis a part time little project and a bit of a fresh start, so feel free to drop me a line if you're keen.

Failing that, I shall see you on Deano again sometime in the future!!

#;; humanized #; hiatus notice