Fangs Blood Teeth

Sabertooth ~ SynergyHQ

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper:

and just like that, lorna snaps back to reality. this isn’t her, not anymore; she left the mutant cause and super-heroing behind whe she left xavier’s. getting involved again is sure to wreck mayhem in her life — and yet, sitting there, having that conversation… it brings her back to the start of it all, when she first put on her suit. “i used to think it was a matter of convincing them we were the same, can you believe it? that a simple gene wasn’t enough difference between us. i’m not that person anymore; not after having watched more than ten million mutants being decimated” she stops herself, wills herself to calm down, “i’m not sure what the next step is for mutant kind, but we need to stop entertaining sapiens. this is what the x-men are right now, they are dancing monkeys to them. they save thousands of them while letting our people be persecuted, be killed. mutant kind needs to start caring about mutants”. lorna catches her breath and looks up to the sky. if she closes her eyes, she can almost see the inhabitants of genosha greeting her, calling her princess just before they’re all killed. “we cannot coexist… genosha was the right thing, separating all of us was the right thing. but the country wasn’t well protected, we should have hid it; should have told the world mutants were dead and concealed the entire island. i know you want to kills the humans, but right now, our priority shouldn’t be them”.

          He feels a rumble building up within his chest. This is the kind of extremism that had never been possible with Xavier and his band of do-gooders running around. At least right now, even if they existed here, they weren’t organized. They weren’t able to stop mutants from rising up the way that they deserved to.           Mutants had always been better than humans. How many times had he told Jimmy that? We’re better than them, and you know it. They should be pittied. We’re the hunters, they’re just scared prey. All the things that had been so clear to him long before Magneto had ever thought he was the cause of those thoughts.                “And what would you have me do instead? I’m only good at one thing, girlie, and it sure as hell ain’t peace talks.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

occultbat·:

a gasp came from harley when she heard the voice call out to her. something about this mook made her believe that he probably thought he was gonna get some sort of evil enjoyment outta her. boy was he wrong. a sickening smile spread across her lips as she tilted her head up to fully face him, a purple slushie in one hand with the cute little bendy straw at the top.

“is it? i coulda sworn i was lookin’ for the most dangerous place to be - so you’re tellin’ me this is only midly dangerous?“ she asked, a curious head tilt. “don’t you know that it’s not nice to walk up on ladies like this, ya big bad wolf.“

          There’s something about how she turns to him, how she smiles. It would be easy to treat her words as the dumb statements of a drunk bitch, too out of it on the alcohol to realise what a mess she’s walking into. But he knows better. He smells better. She’s not as drunk or as crazy as she acts. She’s just this side of insane, but she’s not dumb, and she’s not reckless.                He licks his lips, very much like a wolf eyeing up it’s next meal.      “You want dangerous, little girl? I can take you somewhere more dangerous, if that’s the kind of fun you’re looking for.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

blinksinpink·:

          Clarice was bleeding, injured, exhausted. Fear was closing in on her, just as he was. The realization hit her that this had to be the killer that was stalking the streets, the one responsible for those deaths, the bloody crime scenes, the weeping victims. Terror at the thought that she’d be another one of his victims, and the reality that no one would be around to miss her, that she wouldn’t be noticed unless someone happened upon her body- it hits her and makes it hard to breath.                “No,” she whispers, and then again, louder. “No.”           She hadn’t found John yet. She hadn’t found any of the Morlocks, or the underground, and she was going to get back to them. She had to get back to them, and she wasn’t going to die in this alley here, ripped to shreds and missed by nobody. She was going to live, fuck this bastard.           Clinging to that thought, letting it drive her, letting it be the only thing she could focus on and ignoring the roar of the monster barrelling down on her, Clarice channels everything that she has left into a portal. She screams in pain as his claws hit her back, and then she’s falling, falling, falling, falling-           She hits the hard ground, and looks up just as the portal closes, his astonished and angry face the last thing she sees before it collapses.

          He may have superhuman reflexes and anger enough to make him faster than naturally possible. But even he isn’t fast enough to stop a teleportation ability that happens in the blink of an eye. As he comes crashing down onto the place where she used to be, he feels his claws rip into her back, and hears her scream as he lands on the ground. But the sweet cotton candy scent of her blood is all that lingers in the alleyway.                Victor throws back his head and howls.           Decades since he lost his prey. A generation since he had ever fixed his mind on someone to kill, and watched them get away. The anger at losing, the rage at being denied his rightful kill, it bubbles out through his chest into a roar that shakes the building beside him. He grabs one of the milk crates at hurls it up into the sky. As it falls tumbling back to earth, he slashes it apart with his claws.           The sight of that reminds him of the blood on his claws. He licks at it, closing his eyes, memorising it. Her scent is on the blankets on the ground - he grabs those as well, sniffs them, holds them against his nose and locks it into his memory.                “I’ll find you, bitch. I’ll find you, and I’ll make you regret this.”      And then Victor Creed-                      the murderer stalking New Gotham's streets-                               fades back into the shadows.

[fangsbloodteeth]

@occultbat for Harley

          She was waltzing down the middle of the road, singing to herself, swinging her hips and sending out waves of sweet perfume with every movement. Didn’t she know how tempting she was? Didn’t she know how she was presenting herself as such a perfect target to him, and how much he longed to rip her open.           But the clash with the teleporting mutant had made him wary, and he was much more careful about how he walked towards him.                He comes up towards her, face on, so she sees him coming.      “Don’t you know it’s dangerous about these parts, little girl?”

[fangsbloodteeth]

blinksinpink·:

          She realises that she’s been flung into the wall after she’s crashed into it and is slumped on the ground. The ringing in her ears seems like the deep vibration of a bell, again and again and again. She can’t keep her head up straight, she just wants to slump over. But she knows, she knows - she can’t. If she doesn’t get up now, she never will again. One breath; she lifts her head up. A second breath; she gets her hands on the ground. Third breath; she pushes herself upright, using the wall to bear her weight, legs shaking, knees weak, vision dizzy. There’s blood tinkling down her face, blood on her shoulders, her hair sticking to her skin.           Clarice raises a hand in front of her. She can’t even see him properly, he’s just a huge shadow in the blur that is the world around her right now. Struggling to breath, struggling to stay upright, struggling to focus on what’s happening. Clarice puts all of her focus into her hand, channelling her will through her fingers until the energy bursts from her palm.           A large portal hovers in front of her, blocking him out. It covers nearly the entire area around her, and with her back against the wall, there’s no other way from him to get to her. It’s just a void of purple, she can’t escape through it, she’s trying to focus on somewhere, to send herself somewhere safe. But the thoughts won’t come, the focus of a particular place that would be safe for her in this time simply won’t come to her mind.                     “What-What the hell do you want?”

          A swipe his hand against the portal proves it to be just as forceful and just as cutting as the little knives. He hisses, and recoils before recovering. Beginning to pace up and down the alley, he sniffs the air, listening to the hitching sound of her lungs struggling for air. She’s more resistant than he expected.      How many others would pick themselves up after an attack like that?                     “Why don’t you drop that, and I’ll show you want I want, little girl?”           He eyes the wall. The bricks are old and crumbling, and the cracks that pepper it’s surface are large and well spaced. He begins to slowly back away down the alley, kicking the milk crate with his foot to get it out of his way. It clatters away with a slight echo.                     “It’ll all be over in a moment. I promise, I won’t be harsh. Gentleman’s honour.”           Did he have honour? Maybe of a sort. A distant memory of promises made and kept and words spoken in good faith. But even that had never been a gentleman’s kind of honour. Jimmy was a gentleman. Victor never even tries to be. His lips curl in a smile as he says the words, a joke even if his audience will not appreciate the effort. His work is never appreciated enough, not properly, not seen for the art that it is.           He rolls his shoulders. Leans forward, licking his lips in anticipation. He kicks off from the pavement, twisting his body in midair, pushing his hands against the brick wall and twisting again to kick at the other side. Bouncing back and forth, he climbs the alley walls. Until, in a few seconds, he can come crashing down onto her position once again.

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper·:

i’m not saying my father was right, lorna thinks, still staring at victor, it’s not that we’re better… it’s that they don’t understand the different. never will. she doesn’t want to tell the other man this, he is too dangerous, the younger mutant knows this for certain, and seems unstable. instead, lorna says: “professor x wants for us to be tolerated… sapiens only tolerate what they dislike, hate even. his vision is wrong because it diminishes us”. she sits back in the bench, relaxing a bit more — this man is a radical, but he also perceives her as an ally, it’s obvious. it also feels somewhat refreshing to be discussing these issues; the topic was sure to be the start of a fight with alex. since moving out of xavier’s mansion, lorna’s thoughts on the mutant rights movement has been developing in a different path to what she’d ben taught by the professor. “my father doesn’t only have a grudge with xavier; in my universe, i know he wanted the professor to join him. perhaps out of sentimentalism” she tells victor and wonders if this is true in other universes.

          Victor sits down on the grass. Well, it’s more like kneeling, with the balls of his feet taking all of his weight and his knees bent up against his chest. He cocks his head to one side, listening to her talk, to how she speaks. Folks always let out more than they mean to in their words. She reeks of disagreement - not just with Xavier, but also with her father, and with Victor himself. She’s got her own opinions, and her own path about mutant rights.           “And what would you have us do then? What do you see our role as? We got a chance here, chase after whatever kind of life that we want in this new city. So what should it be?”

[fangsbloodteeth]

blinksinpink·:

          Clarice knows that he little home built in an alley isn’t really safe. There’s programs, she’s seen the flyers, to give everyone apartments and homes, free of change. Stark and Wayne and all those billionaires, reaching out to help the poor and displaced. But though she knows that could be better, she keeps coming back here and sleeping here each night. Sleeping rough, because as dangerous as it was, is what she knows.                     It’s never been a problem, until it is.           A great weight comes crashing down onto her, and slams her to the ground. Her head bounces against the pavement. There are stars in front of her eyes and a ringing in her ears. Her lungs burn for air, collapsed under the force of the man who stands on top of her. Sharp fingernails grab at her neck. Her hands turn into fists, and the purple light that shows her power bursts out of her fingers, rolling up to him, through him, cutting him, tearing his skin and his flesh.

          If she had smelt sweet as cotton candy before hand, she smelt as tempting as bubbling maple syrup right now. Hot and liquid and dangerous as the fire that it rest on top. And he couldn’t help, despite the fact they’re tangled up in a life or death struggle, as his claws dig into her neck and rip at the veins there, but to take a deep breath, inhale the rich scent, pause to savour it in his mouth, his mind, his enjoyment of it running deep and setting his blood rushing through his muscles.           Something hits his shoulder. Than his hands, his arms, his cheek. A sharp, stabbing pain, cutting into his skin. The blood trickles down his skin, a few droplets, but the cuts keep coming. With each flexing motion of her hands, another dozen shards of energy cut and tear at his skin.           Victor snarls, and his hands tighten on her neck. He’s already healing, the injuries never stay for long. With a single arm, he drags her off the ground, fingers digging into her chin, throwing her against the wall.                     “You little bitch. You’ll pay for that.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

dellamoore‌:

[fangsbloodteeth]

magicandiron·:

“A way into hell? Yeah, but it tends to involve ritual sacrifice and a lot of special ingredients that I can’t be arsed to look for. Also, a lot of demons I don’t really want to meet - I might’ve won a few too many artifacts off them in poker games.”

This bloke was intriguing. John had been running into way too many do gooders lately, and he was starting to crawl in his skin. If Diana gave him one more lecture about doing the right thing, he was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust. “So what’s a pretty guy like you wandering around a city like this all alone at night? Haven’t you heard that there’s a serial killer on the loose?”

Hell, encouraging this guy was probably a shockingly bad idea, but he was bored, damnit.

                    “Oh, have they started talking about that on the news finally? It wasn’t very nice of them to keep the news of my work secret for so long.”           Victor talks in a slow, smooth drawl. It’s a way of speaking that’s old fashioned now a days, or limited to the very southern edges of the United States. But when he was a child, it had been the speech of upper class, of professionals, of decent folk. James taught him how to speak it, how to roll his words out smoothly and say every single syllable. It still popped up whenever he was acting proud and above his place.                     “I was beginning to wonder if the public would ever notice that. I didn’t exactly hide any of my mess. Gave the police a lot of work, that.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

@blinksinpink​           She smelled sweet. Like candy. As he watches her from the rooftop, the shadows hiding him as much as they also provided protection for her little hovel for a home, for the milk crates she stacks together into a pathetic house, he takes another deep breath. His eyes flutter close. Oh, but she’s so young, and so confident in herself. He’s seen how she practices with her powers in the park, growing bolder the more often she uses them and the less often that people stare. Coming to believe that this city might be better than her home world.           A faith that Victor is about to shatter.                     He savours that last sweet smell.           The milk crates go flying as he lands on top of them, kicking them every which way, scattering the home she’s managed to build for herself. Before she’s had a chance to process the mountain of a man that’s landed on her, Victor is dragging the blanket off of her body, grabbing for her throat.                     “Hello little lady.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper·:

“yes, well, my father couldn’t handle a lot of things, including his own children” lorna told the other, raising her eyebrows. “but i guess i don’t really need to know all about your life, right? does it even matter—i didn’t even know who you were just five minutes ago”, she added, turning around and facing the city displayed in front of them. she was in nowhere; Lorna Dane had lost everything and was supposed to start her life from scratch. again, the younger mutant thought, remembering when she had first found out about her powers. looking down at her glowing hands was hypnotising, it was all about the feeling of the power that coursed through her blood. “my father” she stopped, her respiration uneven, “my father was a powerful, angry man. the hate in his heart made him stronger, but also shortsighted.” lorna continued, eyes still admiring the buildings. “his violent acts only make things harder for the ‘regular mutant’; that is not to say that professor x’s stand is a very good one… he is too complacent with the sapiens” the woman spits the last word venomously, “i have seen the horrors of the 'humans’, we cannot coexist with them”. turning around, she stared at the other man. “but, of course, who am i to say anything about the matter?”.

           “Xavier,” Victor snarls, his anger a controlled release. He couldn’t get too angry, not lose control, that wasn’t what this was about. But the old man had been weak, was weak, was pathetic and simpering and always trying to make peace with the humans who were more prey, more cattle, than anything else. Victor doesn’t care if she sees how much he detests the telepath. Let her know. Let her see that he agrees.           “Always bowing and trying to please them. When they’re nothing more than ants under our feet. At least your father had the right views, even if he let his grudge with Xavier get the better of strategy.”                It’s the longest, most civilized conversation that Victor’s had in a while. He finds the young women actually pleasant to talk to, her anger just as much a part of her as his was. Her opinions of the world seemed right, and he could honestly say that he didn’t want to tear her a part; a real measure of respect for the killer.

[fangsbloodteeth]

occultbat‌:

jim’s instincts told him to prepare for a fight. he could feel his blood running cold and his hair standing up on their ends. whoever this was, they were trouble. swallowing thickly, the commissioner tilted his head up and watched the other carefully, detailing every feature of his face that he could.

he was very cat-like, with a wolfish grin. jim barely listened to what he had to say until…

After all, you spent all those hours admiring my work.

in an instant, jim’s gaze tracked back up from his teeth to the man’s eyes; there was a beat of a moment before he carefully closed the door and unlocked it from its chain lock, opening the door fully and standing aside to let the man in. “why don’t you come on in? take a seat, i’m making dinner if you’d like some.”

he needed to keep cool, to keep calm - try to talk to the man, try to see why he was doing all of this. if he fought him now, he knew he’d be dead and barbara would be at risk and he couldn’t allow that. “do i at least get to know your name?”

          “Much obliged,” his voice is a purr, rumble originating somewhere deep in his throat. As he steps inside, his body fills the hallway, dwarfing the space, commanding all of the area. He’s not impossibly large, but he’s very much on that edge of what could be reached by humans. Big, and muscled, and he holds himself with all the attitude towards striking fear through his very bearing.           It doesn’t diminish as he moves into the house. All the grace, the power, the killer instinct of mankind’s greatest predator. There’s never been a threat like him, not in his world, and he guesses, not one in Gotham either.           He stops at the picture on the hallway wall, raising a single clawed fingers, tapping against the glass. Tap tap tap.                     “Pretty daughter you have. I had a girl once. Little, fragile thing.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper·:

“right” lorna drawled, eyes never leaving the other’s figure. she had absolutely no idea what happened in san francisco and immediately wondered whether this man came from the same universe as the magneto that was in new gotham. “well, cheers to ‘fuck him’, i guess” she added, amused by the how many people disliked her father; “there’s not a lot of diversity when it comes to the people who used to work for erik, they’re either extremely blood thirsty or 'radical mutant activists’” both things lorna was scared of becoming “for some reason, i don’t think you’re the latter”. the mutant smirked, seemingly at ease. inside, she was deeply curious—she had yet to meet her father knowing the truth, hadn’t even met him in new gotham yet. “so, what have you been doing since you arrived? some villainous stuff?” (not that lately lorna had much room for judgement, she had been losing too much control).

          Victor smiles, and shrugs his broad shoulders. There was something about mutants, especially when they smelled so angry and so hateful, that made him open up, made him tell the truth. People always thought he was the dumb muscle, the grunt who simply followed orders.                He was alive because he followed orders. He was free because he was smart about who’s orders he followed.           Victor had seen the old man’s failings, had known after New York that whatever mutant rights’ cause he was trying to build, it was doomed. Get out of Dodge, look after your own skin. Besides, Magneto never let him have fun the way that Stryker did.           Something about his kid though- Something about the way she smirked and the way she smelt of lost control and self fear-                     Maybe he could follow that kind of cause again.           “You could say something like that. But if I tell you the details, you might run. Like a scared little rabbit. Your Pa did.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

magicandiron‌:

<CONSTANTINE!>

John had been minding his own business - mostly trying to steer clear of the chaos that was gripping the city. Not his monkeys, not his circus, that sort of thing.

But he was aware that someone was trailing him. When the guy leapt off a rooftop to land in front of him, John had to admit that he was slightly impressed despite himself. Even Batman couldn’t manage that with quite as much finesse, not without use one of his fun little gadgets.

“Oh, I don’t think he and I are on talking terms, lately,” John said with a grin. “Unless you’re into storming heaven and marching on the pearly gates, that sort of thing? Now, that’s a different sort of conversation. Or maybe you’re having problems of the demonic variety, hm?”

             How rare it was to encounter someone who didn’t immediately fear him. Although in this new city, Victor was finding it more and more common. These supers from another world, all these people who kept popping up and flying through the sky and setting buildings on fire in the name of truth and justice- they weren’t always as afraid of him as he was used to. Simply a higher distribution of superpowers within the public than the places back home had given.              It was good that the world was like this.               Victor was enjoying himself.               He continues to smile at the man that he’s found. “You got a way into hell? Cause I’ll gladly give those self righteous angels a good turn.” If pressed for an answer, Victor would confess that he lost his faith in god sometime during the Civil War. When he knew that he couldn’t die. And what was the point of God if he didn’t let you die?

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper·:

lorna’s reaction was barely visible, but still there—she had told very few people of the discovery, all of those who she trusted deeply. “one of” she answers, trying to feel for every piece of metal around, just in case. after spending the last few years fighting crime and unjustice with the x-men, polaris’ senses have gotten a lot better and the man in front of her has the same look on his eyes as a killer. “he seems to be in the bad habit of having and abandoning children” the mutang girl adds, a sarcastic half-smile; “what is it to you, though? do you happen to know dear ole’ dad?”.

                    “Used to work for the old man.”           Multiple children, heh. Seems that the geezer could still get it up, and quite late in life, judging by her age. Doesn’t look like him much, and Victor is going to be shocked if that hair came with the magnet powers. Wasn’t like anything that the metal-master had on his head. Maybe her mom?           Eh, what did he care about why she looked so much different than her father. She was a kid, but he could see in her body language that she knew how to fight. Maybe she’d be a better leader than her old man on top of it all.           “Ditched him before the attack on San Fransisco. Got another job that was supposed to be temporary, and then he blown the bridge sky high, and I said, fuck him.”

[fangsbloodteeth]

theculpepper·:

    anyone walking near what used to be greenwich would see lorna dane laying down on a random bench, wallowing in misery. quite fitting she thought for someone who had apparently just lost her boyfriend—future fiancé?—, her apartment and her university. just fan-fucking-tastic. well, at least if it all goes to hell, xavier’s school will still be there; is her main train of thought. moving back into the mansion would only make her miss alex more, though. lorna sighs, resigned to the disaster that was this whole experience.

    "hey, siri" she waits for the telling noise of the assistant listenning to her “wake me up when i stop feeling lonely and sad”.

          He had only to take one whiff of the air to smell the X-brat in the park. And for once in his very long life, Victor didn’t immediately jump to violence. Perhaps this new city was getting to him. Perhaps he, like James, was going soft in his old age, and it had just taken a little bit longer. Or perhaps it was that little fragment of gunmetal that he caught at the tail end of her scent, the smell of steel that he had previously only experienced with Magneto.           He walked into the park, enjoying the rather wide personal bubble he got on the path, and found the source of that familiar scent looking rather depressed on a bench.                Victor scoffed, and kicked her foot.                          “You Magneto’s daughter?”

[fangsbloodteeth]

occultbat‌:

if the portals from various timelines hadn’t been enough, then the serial killer that was going around in the city certainly was. jim was tired, dead tired but it didn’t mean he was going to quit servicing the city. he loved gotham and now that he’d been misplaced and thrown into a odd version of it, he couldn’t help but to feel some love for this city too.

it’s why he was dedicated to finding this killer and stopping them before things escalated more than they already had. everyone was busy, everyone was distracted - and jim wasn’t about to let the public know about it.

so when he was home, finding himself alone and wondering where barbara was - the commissioner made dinner. he’d leave her some too, it was the least he could do  - and though it was some grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup from a can, he at least tried. that was until a knock came to his door. freezing, he reached for his gun and got it ready as he moved to answer. “who is it?” he asked, cautiously moving towards the door and peeking through the peephole.

“what do you want?“ he asked again, slowly reaching to open the door but leaving the chain lock on. “if you’re wanting to report anything, the station is just a block away.“ he eyed the man carefully. something about all of this just seemed off.

          Nice and cautious, this man of the law. Keeping his door closed to strangers, waiting to find out what Victor wanted before letting him in. So smart, so savvy, so easily seeing that things were not about to go as they normally did. Not an ordinary frail, and victor was happy to see it. After all, things got boring if people always did what he expected them to do. Life was supposed to be a fun little game, and it more than seemed that this police commander was going to give him the fun that he wanted.                     “Thought you’d want to see me.”           Oh, he was going to enjoy this. Victor didn’t plan on killing the man, not tonight anyways. He could smell the woman who lived in the house from the faint whiffs of remaining scents, she’d be fun to play with and threaten too, he’d have to find her later. Cats like to play with their food.                     Victor could play with this officer for months.           The light from the sliver of open door falls across his gleaming golden eyes, and his fangs as he likes his lips. He wraps his hand around the door edge, claws scrapping at the wood. Not forcing it open, not yet, he wanted to see what the copper did.                If he ran.                     If he panicked.           “After all, you spent all those hours admiring my work.”