ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴅᴇ

[luceate]

I will be on later to do some replies. Until then, if anyone wants to plot, like this or hmu.

[luceate]

I just updated my guidelines to clear up a little potential confusion/future confusion.

[luceate]

Would anyone like to plot?

[luceate]

loveiswater.

“I’ll take pictures of the second arse hole it will surely create. I’m sure there’s salt somewhere–and water. He doesn’t seem the kind that would know what to do with either– in that regard.” Kemi is a playful thing–all the time. Her magic is all intuition based, knowledge– potions. She goes with her gut, she’s connected to places– to nature– to the divine in very particular ways. “The SCF? Honestly– trust Americans to turn everything into a bureaucracy.” She supposed there was something to be said for organisation– but she never cared for rules. She likes living in the grey area far more than she should. It was her sister who clung to the idea of black and white. “Maybe they don’t like you very much. If they sent you here they have to have known that–at the very least.” She sips the whiskey in her glass slowly, and let’s her eyes  look him over again, notice things– properly, now that she was out of defense mode. He set off her radar, but she isn’t sure he would set off too many, there was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on. His energy however, was pleasant. “I keep out of their way, I don’t think their fond of me. They don’t like people they don’t have dossiers on. And I have a friend who– helps that dossier disappear every time. I gather you’re not a friend of theirs?” She hums softly in contemplation, toying with the idea of giving him her name. One more sip of whiskey and she gives into her gut. She’s a slave to it. “I won’t kill you Kyrin. I’m Kemi by the way. I can pretend I didn’t pick up on it if you like– your name I mean. It tends to make people uneasy.”  

Kyrin can’t exactly argue with her, and he doesn’t bother to try. He’s never been a huge fan of the organization himself, even with the fact that it put bread on his childhood table, and he swallows back his smile with the first sip of his drink, a hand moving up to mop a bit of sweat from his brow despite his earlier proclamations of it being cold. It’s the adrenaline, most likely, which is only just beginning to taper off with the promise of pleasant company and tantalizing conversation. What he doesn’t expect is for her to divine his name out of thin air, but he’s been around weirder things just at family gatherings. He has an aunt who can tell if there’s a cat within a five mile radius just by tapping her finger on her temple. She also cackles like a hyena, but that’s not the point. “Probably not. You’re right about that, they don’t like anything they can’t control, and you don’t seem like the sort of person who’s very fond of confinement.” He doesn’t answer her question, mostly because he doesn’t see a need to, instead focusing on the introduction and the way that he instinctively leans in slightly. “I’ve been exposed to worse. Pleasure to meet you. Where exactly are you from?” Curiosity dictates that he ask. He knows there are a lot of different kinds of magic out there, a lot of different kinds of witches, and he hasn’t begun to grasp even the half of it considering the level of secrecy their kind keeps. He’s the tip of the iceberg. 

[luceate]

loveiswater.

she feels it– something familiar coming this way before the door opens. It’s new orleans, of course– so familiar wasn’t strange. There’s something about the small city that pulls the supernatural here. It’s in the stones lining the street– it’s in the air. New Orleans is magic in a very tangible way. It was one of the reasons she had stopped here, even though it was so far away from home. It was familiar– like the energy of the man standing in the doorway. 

she cloaks herself immediately, dims her aura because it makes sense to in the moment, she wants to feel him out first, and it’s easier if he thinks her human. She chuckles at his words. “It’s not that cold love, still.. colder than I’d like.” The bar is a empty and he seems edgy. “I sincerely hope the gun you tucked in your jeans isn’t loaded, you’re so nervous the energy alone might make it go off.” She glances at the bartender. “Can I have another please? And one for the curly haired fool over there– thank you.” The smile on her lips is genuine. “You’re going to get us all killed– if what I think was following you–follows you into this bar. In fact I might kill you myself. fool.” Her tone is pleasant, humourous– as her accent tilts the words one way or the next. The man sets the cold bottles in front of them, and she relaxes her defenses completely. If he has any sort of sight– she will be screaming gold by now. “Cheers.”

Colder than they’d both like, it would appear; he doesn’t comment on it at first, instead politely asking the bartender for a whiskey sour (at her prompting to get him a drink,) and then choosing to reestablish his attention with a settled sigh and his arms folding on the bar. It takes the “curly haired fool” a moment to catch up with what she’s said, and amusement is twinkling in his eyes, dancing just off the edge of his lips. Kyrin is playful on a good day, and today hadn’t exactly been bad up until his little tiff in the alleyway, but he’s bouncing back pretty quick. Then she carries on past the mention of his gun, past the comment about him being foolish, and he’s got his eyebrows raised practically to his hairline (which is a feat.) “Well, if it does go off, I certainly hope the tender’s got a stock of saltwater handy. Otherwise, I’m gonna sleep for a while.” His second sight flickers into focus, and there it is -- her brilliant gold aura, and the smell of witch suddenly makes a lot more sense. His nose twitches at it. “Law enforcement is taking care of it. The SCF were on the scene before I even got the chance to pull the trigger.” Which he would’ve if they’d taken half a second longer. “I’m going to kill the person who sent me here for not telling me those suited goons were already involved.” He says it like he has a vendetta, but the truth is Kyrin’s own father is in a high-up position at the Supernatural Containment Force headquarters, and he’d of had a career there himself if he hadn’t chosen to go another direction. Bounty hunting, to be exact. “I’d appreciate a fair warning if you do decide to try to kill me.”

[luceate]

nymphct.

         He’s laughing. it’s a laugh that most people never want to hear, because it sounds far too evil and dark to be a real laugh.❝ so sad. but maybe that was the point. talk through the pain; it’s quite thrilling to hear it in your voice. ❞ and if the poor witch didn’t know that kyran was evil by now, he knew it from that one solid statement. when he tilted his head to the side, you can hear the way his neck cracks.❝ got any family, witch boy? ❞          It’s quite obvious that he has no desire to hear what the male’s name is. after all, he was always just going to be another witch to kyran. he’s not sure why he’s always had such a thing against the magic spewing brats, but he’s always been rather against them.❝ you’re quite pathetic, you know. your instincts aren’t as good as you think they are. and you were far too easy to take. pathetic that they’ve gotten so weak that they need you to pick up the rebellious species. ❞, he mused.

Whatever he is, it doesn’t seem to particularly matter. Kyrin is a slave to his whims regardless, and despair is already beginning to settle in on him; despair and panic and fear so thick that he’s choking almost as bad as when the hybrid’s hand had been around his throat. The mention of his family doesn’t stir an outward reaction in him, but the fact that it’s at least partially a vampire that he’s dealing with probably gives away how his pulse begins to hammer even harder, and every thought that he has is suddenly on his frizzy-haired mother with her thick-lens glasses, and his hard-working father at the SCF. He tries to play it off.

❝ Sure, call me pathetic when you get your rocks off killing innocent people for no feasible reason. I know I’m not exactly in a position to argue right now, but I gotta say, if we were to be compared, I think we both know who would come out on top in a “Number One Scum of the Earth” competition. ❞ Provoking him is probably not the best idea. It might not even work. But maybe if he can make him angry enough he won’t care about anything else. Or maybe it’s just a fool’s errand, just like this entire mission had been. ❝ I’ve heard we have a couple of demons on our payroll, actually. Master Vampires too. Maybe we can make some kind of fucked-up half-breed to be your playmate, then you can both be freakishly out of place together. How nice. ❞  

[luceate]

nymphct.

         Taking away a witches power. that’s harsh. the idea of it makes icelynn saddened. all she had was magic anymore and if she didn’t have it, she really wouldn’t be anything. she’s silent, probably for a bit too long before she’s looking down; her energy dropping significantly because she’s desperately trying to act like the punishment doesn’t affect her like it does. ❝ i don’t have a choice. you’re going to do whatever you want regardless. don’t act like i have an option to save him. ❞, she spoke.          She glanced up at him for a moment, her eyes glossed over before she’s walking back into where the male was on the ground and she’s completely redeemed her icy exterior as she got down onto her knees beside him. ❝ do you think the punishment is fair? ❞, she questioned after a long moment before she’s standing up again; brushing off the knees of her jeans. ❝ do you think that it’s fair for someone to put themselves above the average citizen and call all the shots? and have the ability to take someone’s identity away? ❞, it’s simply a question, but her head cocked to the side as she stared at the male.         Icelynn considered his words for a moment. it took her this long to even consider what he had said. ❝ whats the headquarters like? ❞, she questioned as she’s still looking over at the male. ❝ how long have you worked as a hunter? ❞, and she knows she makes his job seem much worse than it is by not including bounty in the name.

She’s right. Kyrin doesn’t say it out loud, of course, but he can tell just by the glow of her aura, along with the way that she’s handling herself (she hasn’t even attempted to take down his circle, which leads him to believe she doesn’t know how) that she’s outmatched. He doesn’t want this to be a fight, though, and he doesn’t want to have to make it come to that in the least, so he’s grateful that she’s apparently resigning herself and her friend to their fate before it has to. Whatever he’s may be, of course, aside from the inclusion of letting him do his job.

❝ It won’t be permanent. ❞ That’s all he offers her. Of course, depending on how he handles it, it could be. The second the zip strip is taken off of him, he’ll be able to touch the lines again, but if he doesn’t cooperate, there’s a chance they’ll sever him. Gather a group of witches up strong enough to overload his chi with so much energy, it’ll burn him out forever. Goose bumps prickle on Kyrin’s skin at just the thought, and he can’t think of a worse fate than that. He would rather be dead than not be able to touch the lines.  ❝ I’m not saying it’s always fair -- I am saying that it’s necessary for us to continue our existence in secret. I don’t know about you, but being hunted by humans isn’t exactly an appealing thought. ❞ 

When she carries on, he harbors just a little more hope. Truthfully, he’s a lot softer than he tends to come off to most people. When he’s on a mission, Kyrin is all business and hard lines, but in his personal life there’s a playful wildness to him that’s communicated by the spark in his eyes and the smirk that’s almost always curving up his lips. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving her here alone. Not after what he’s been paid to do. ❝ Big, grey building masquerading as an insurance business in Baltimore. Humans are none the wiser, but anyone supernatural knows exactly what it is. Pretty severe. Don’t spend much time there. And a while. ❞ Offering her the details of his life isn’t exactly on the agenda.     

[luceate]

casual promo for people to maybe reply to my open or like this post right here for plotting purposes.

[luceate]

nymphct.

        Kyran hears the gasp of the other taking in a deep breath. he doesn’t move from what he’s doing, however. he’s simply going through everything he had taken from the male. his fingers moved over everything the other had, even smirking at the background on his phone before he’s standing up from where he was at in the corner of the room.        ❝ My, my; i’m glad you’re finally awake, witch. ❞        His tongue swiped across his lips as he walked over to where he was locked to the chair and pulled a chair up in front of him, sitting down into his as he’s looking at the other; eyes just as deep red in color as before.❝ you’ve realized whatever they offered you to tag me wasn’t worth it, correct? ❞, and he’s really just taunting him. after all, of course it wasn’t; but it’s not like they knew what he was.❝ how much were they offering for your pathetic attempt to capture me? ❞, moments later,❝ speak up, witch boy; or i’ll take your tongue. ❞

The worst part of all of this is probably the fact that, after a few seconds of uselessly tugging on his bounds, Rin finally notices that he has his stuff. What if he uses his phone to find his friends, his family? What if he sees his nudes?! There’s so much going through his head right now that nothing seems to strike him as inconsequential, and his throat feels tight, chest and head and limbs burning with the immense gravity of the situation. He feels like he’s being crushed beneath it. He doesn’t worry about the amulets or charms he took -- earth magic, all of it. Mostly appearance altering spells and a few ones to heal minor wounds. What he’s more concerned with is the fact that he’s talking to him.  

 ❝ Not enough. ❞ The words are hoarse, said in a voice that almost doesn’t sound like his, and he lets out a little laugh that breaks somewhere in the middle. There’s no humor to it. ❝ If you wanted to talk to me, maybe you should’ve -- I dunno, revised your strategy a bit to maybe not include the choking. ❞ It hurts to speak. Everything hurts, actually, and he has the sick feeling that this is only the beginning. A day-walking demon-vampire. The thought comes to him almost like it’s from some sort of outside source, not really inside of his head at all. He wants to laugh more. He wants to cry. ❝ Not enough. ❞

[luceate]

nymphct.

         She can gather that he’s trying to alter his stance and his words are an attempt to calm her down. it doesn’t work, though. no, she’s far too angry and unhinged. fact is, she completely understands it. humans were who burned down the academy and humans were who she ran from. but still, she couldn’t help that she was angry.❝ what’s going to happen to him? ❞, is her immediate question.          She’s not backing down. her stance is just as strong as it was when she approached him.❝ so if i use magic on a human, i’m going to be taken away, to who knows where; probably slaughter, all because you think a bit of magic will lead to all of your deaths? ❞, she challenged.❝ i’ve used magic on a human. ❞, she stated.          Icelynn is silent for a long moment.❝ more than once. and no one discovered what i was. not even you and whoever your boss is. ❞, her manicured eyebrow raising up. maybe she should be a bit weary considering she has no idea what will happen to her, but maybe she’s just at a point in her life where she doesn’t care what happens anymore.❝ are you going to take me hostage? a little blonde witch who did a few small spells undetected? ❞, she gazed up, a fake innocence moving across her features.

He can tell she’s pissed, and he can’t really blame her. She’s also confused, though, which he doubts very much is helping the situation for her. He’s doing his best to fucking explain, but it just seems as if it’s something she isn’t particularly interested in hearing, and his headache is really starting to flare up now. He knows it’s from a combination of holding the circle and from too little sleep, but he’s seriously hoping that this conversation doesn’t have to last much longer. 

Kyrin slides the splat gun back into his holster, and then reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a thin, plastic strip with a visible vein of malleable silver inside. He holds it up for her to examine. ❝ What’s going to happen is you’re going to calm down, back off, and let me zip-strip your friend and take him back to the person who hired me. It won’t hurt him, it will just cut off his ability to do magic, and he’s going to be put away for a bit. No one will hurt him if he cooperates. ❞ At least, that’s what they tell Kyrin.  

 ❝ And no, i’m not going to arrest you. That’s not my job. I’m just a fucking bounty hunter, okay? I wouldn’t get paid for tagging you, and I have no interest in it. If you want to stay with your friend, you can jump the line with me back to Baltimore to the SCF headquarters. Just... Maybe don’t tell them what you just told me. ❞

[luceate]

nymphct.

        The jab into his ribs doesn’t hurt, but he lets go of his collar regardless. he’s quite amused that this is who they sent out to get him. if it were kyran, he would choose the strongest hunter. and yet, he’s not too impressed by simply looking at the male in front of him.❝ yes. ❞, he breathed easily enough. he stepped closer to the male, a witch, before a smirk is curling onto his lips. he can feel his eyes grow red as he’s focused on staring at the male, attempting to tap into his brain just enough to control him how he wants; after all, it’s always worked before, so today is no different.❝ give me the gun. ❞, he speaks. and when the gun isn’t given to him as fast as he likes, his eyes narrowed and the gun is burning from the inside out.❝ are you deaf or are you just an ignorant witch? ❞, he snapped and within seconds, his fingers are wrapped around the other’s throat easily.❝ you want me to play your games? now you’re playing mine. ❞, his voice low as he stared at the other male and with a simple stare, the male is dropping.          Easily enough, kyran brings the knocked unconscious witch to his place and before he has the chance to wake up, he’s locking him down into a chair. his fingers brushed over the gun that the other had originally brought to tag him, though it’s nothing more than destroyed material now.

Kyrin doesn’t get the chance to process much before his inevitable demise is finally coming to fruition, and the burns on his fingers along with the last thoughts in his mind would almost be humorous if it weren’t so fucking tragic.

First: this guy isn’t just a vampire. Second: His mother is gonna be totally gutted when she finds out there’s no one to reach the top shelves in her charm shop anymore. 

And then everything is black. 

When he comes to, he almost feels cheated. The throbbing in his head and the general feeling of emptiness makes his stomach churn violently, and he doubles over, thinks that he might vomit as his mouth fills with saliva and his muscles contract. Luckily, the urge passes, and he’s drawing in shallow, greedy breaths, like this might be his last chance to feel his lungs expand. Which is actually not far from the truth, considering the precarious nature of his situation. He doesn’t bother saying anything. What is there to say? 

The shock is outweighing the panic for the moment. He waits for it to settle in.

[luceate]

nymphct.

         Icelynn doesn’t expect it. usually she’s so good at picking up when someone is near that she hasn’t invited. but she’s so distracted by the fact that she’s speaking to another witch for the first time in years. it’s not even one she knows, it’s just the fact that she feels far less alone now. but it comes back to haunt her almost immediately as a shot is being spiraled right into her new friend and she’s hearing someone move.         She knows she let out a bit of a scream when the other witch was shot, but regardless, she’s standing up and she’s angry. she’s looking desperately to find where the person was that was hiding, but she couldn’t sense them; as if they were blocking her ability. it angers her more and she knows it’s obvious because now she’s swinging objects across the room with a small glance as she’s walking forward.         And then she hears them. she hears the voice that’s explaining what just happened. ❝ you think you can just sneak into my home and take whoever you want? ❞, her voice strong and thick with the accent she still hasn’t managed to fully shake as she walked. ❝ so what if they charmed a human?! they didn’t use powers in the middle of a mall! you can’t just do this! ❞, she barked.          And then, she’s face to face with them. she can feel her eyes glowing with anger as the expression on her porcelain features does not falter; despite being smaller, she’s not afraid, no, icelynn was not afraid of anyone. and it’s then that she’s able to sense them. ❝ do you even know they do them? how could you do that to your own kind? ❞

Suddenly, it becomes painfully apparent that whoever he’s talking to has no idea how this works. She’s a small, blonde, accented, angry little witch who is saying things that sound a whole lot like she’s never been told the rules, and he presses his lips together, mentally cursing himself for taking this job. A flicker of motion draws his attention, a glimpse of her aura, of the magic surrounding her that he knows she’s got a grip on. His circle springs up around him on instinct alone, a shimmery indigo force field that will hopefully keep him from being impaled and let them actually talk. 

Kyrin lowers his gun as he takes her in, irritation still riding high as his head gives an all-over throb, energy still licking just off the edge of his senses. He can hold it for hours, and there’s a slow trickle of it, funneling into maintaining his circle even as he tries to adopt a stance that looks a bit less menacing than the one that he’s got going on right now. He hopes it works.  ❝ Look, you’re lucky it was just me who came. I’m a small potato compared to some of the people they could’ve sent, and I’m a lot prettier. I don’t know where you’re from, but around here we don’t tolerate people going around using magic on humans. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re trying to not be killed. ❞ 

He doesn’t know why he has to explain this. Surely even the most idiotic person would be able to gather that -- it’s common sense, after all.

[luceate]

nymphct.

        He knows he’s being looked for. it didn’t matter what country he was in; his blatant disregard for the set rules of supernatural species caused people to hunt his whereabouts nearly constantly. he didn’t mind, though. no one could catch him, even the best of their hunters. they were trained to catch many species, but never what kyran was; they were never trained on how to battle a monster. he feels it. he can sense that someone is tense and staring right at him. he lets them believe they stand a chance to win, but it’s within seconds that he’s move from his distance away to directly behind them. he reached down just as the other is scrunching their eyebrows, trying to figure out where he went, grabbing onto the back collar of their shirt. ❝ looking for me? ❞, he practically growled, deep voice thick with his unfading accent. he almost laughed at the question he asked, because of course they were; though they probably were already regretting it.

It’s just a vampire. He’s dealt with vampires plenty of times before, from a safe distance, and today should be no different than any other. Least ways that’s what Bailey had told him before he’d sent him out on this particular hunt, and despite his better judgment, the reward had been too high to not outweigh the risk (at least in Kyrin’s mind.) Of course, he’d made sure to set a disclaimer in place, good enough to make it clear that if shit got messy at any point, he’d be jumping a line out of here faster than anyone could blink. As it stands, he’s stood out of sight now, gun held up in front of him, taking his aim and considering every possible way that this could go wrong, when suddenly, it does. Or, rather, suddenly it’s not going at all. If Kyrin didn’t know any better, he’d say the vampire had jumped a line himself, but they can’t do that. His heart is suddenly in his throat, awareness tingling, and hair standing up on the back of his neck just as a gruff voice sounds from behind him, and he’s grabbed so quick he almost drops his gun. Oh. Shit. Fear chokes him almost to the point of not being able to speak. This is it. This is how he dies. 

❝ Depends -- ❞ Cue the cough, and his elbow slamming back into the ribs of whoever this is.  ❝ Were you standing thirty feet away approximately half a second ago? ❞ He’s already ready to push ley line energy into him, as some sort of last-ditch effort. Any other spell would be too risky in this position.

[luceate]

There isn’t time to think on a job like this, isn’t time to breathe, or to plan past the meager ones he’d drawn up before he left his now abandoned motel room. Instinct guides him as his fingers wrap loose about his neon green handgun, sleepy time charms loaded and at the ready for when he tags this witch. It should be straightforward, easy money from the SCF -- he hasn’t met a witch to date who was capable of outmatching him, especially when he has the element of surprise on his side. His trigger word to throw up a circle is just off the tip of his tongue; it’s a shame he couldn’t get into this space earlier, drawn one up with magnetic chalk and used it for his advantage. They’re always a lot more flimsy without being actually drawn. The energy spooled in his mind makes the loose, frizzy strands of his curls float in an invisible force, slight enough to almost not be noticeable, unless one knows where to look. 

It’s supposed to be straightforward, it’s supposed to be easy money, it’s supposed to be just one witch. And yet Kyrin finds two. 

A shot is fired before he even has the chance to think, paintball filled with a sleep charm splattering on his intended target, though what said target’s friend intends to do is beyond him. He’s ducking behind the corner of a wall and parting his lips to throw his circle up before he even has time to think -- he really doesn’t need to be gored by a flying object, or roasted by a fire ball or some shit. That was not in the plan. 

❝ Only looking to tag and bag your friend. They charmed a human a couple days ago, and the Supernatural Containment Force is not very forgiving with potential exposure. Really wasn’t looking to mess with you too, whoever you are. ❞

@nymphct.

[7lives-blog1]

A midnight dream

[luceate]

there’s something a bit anticlimactic about bursting through the door of the dingy, dimly-lit bar, wind nipping at his heels, and neon green paintball gun tucking into the back of his jeans before anyone can catch sight of it. a breath heaves out of him, pulse hammering in his ears, and vampire pheromones tingling just off the edge of his skin. he’s relieved, of course, at having been intercepted in time to not have to fuck with whatever that had been, but adrenaline still pumps harshly enough through his veins that green eyes are wide as they flit about the bar, every muscle in his body tense.

“right then.” it’s muttered out to himself on the tail end of a sigh, and he trembles a little when he makes his way over to a stool, perching on it and flickering his gaze over to the person next to him. he offers them a tentative smile. “cold out there.”

[luceate]

this is a plotting call. like this, and i’ll come to you to plot something.