hunt or be hunted

for those of us climbing to the top of the food chain, there can be no mercy. there is but one rule

[artemisiaeickenhorst]

“I bought the house, if I remember correctly?” She hummed back, eyes sharp but lips pulled into a small smirk, the delight she felt at the sight of him almost clear on her features. And if she were being truthful, she had missed him, but she was rarely truthful. “But no, I don’t. I miss my Eden – I leave for a month and you burn its walls down. In no way do I enjoy the new atmosphere.”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

“Yes, you bought it for us and our family, Artemisia. You did a great job.” Stepping close, he gave her a gentle, yet patronizing pat on her shoulder, hand never leaving its place. She was beautiful, more than ever even, and Marcel did not mind letting his feelings slip through the cracks of well built exterior — it was weird not having her near, and despite their separations for decades here and there, he felt anxious with her being away. “You know you don’t miss your Eden,” he objected, the very same curve never leaving edges of his lips, “Besides, this suits you so much better.”

[artemisiaeickenhorst]

@marcelluseickenhorst

When she said everything was off, everything was off. Dropping her bag at the door, Artemis made her way through the house, anger already bubbling through her core. 

“Marcel,” She called quietly, knowing good and well he’d hear, “Marcel, why the in the seven hells has my home been turned into a frat house!”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

He couldn’t help, but let out a soft, low chuckle at her annoyance. He did not mind the company, especially since they, most of the time, were either really really quiet, or not even in the house. Marcel went down the stairs to greet her, a smirk upon his lips. “Well, darling dear, for the past few months, it wasn’t even your house to begin with. But I like this. This frat house atmosphere. Don’t you?”

[drakeofoz]

Oz swallowed his pride for once, and bowed his head in defeat as he owned up to his mistake. For the first time in a long time. “Yeah, understood. It wont happen again..”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

“Good,” he stood there for a second in silence, slight confusion changing the eternal annoyance looking at his progeny. It was not typical for him to act that way, but instead of making Marcel wary, it made him tranquil again, even if for a little bit. “You okay?”

[dottie-eickenhorst]

[marcelluseickenhorst]

[dottie-eickenhorst]

[marcelluseickenhorst]

[drakeofoz]

“Technically-” he stopped himself. Technically both the progenies were blonde. But he knew who he was referring to if not Nero. “Lyla. Her names Lyla. What’d she do? You didn’t hurt her did you?” Not that he had been all that concerned lately with the wellbeing of his progenies, but maybe he should have.

[marcelluseickenhorst]

Frowns came back to his features as Oz spoke, and he had to hold back a snarl. Now he was concerned, or at least he seem to be. A tad too late, as Marcel thought, but perhaps better late than never. “I know. No thanks to you. Take care of her, Drake, or next time there won’t be anyone to take care of.”

[dottie-eickenhorst]

[marcelluseickenhorst]

[dottie-eickenhorst]

“…”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

[drakeofoz]

Oz heard the first question, and already he felt his stomach drop. He thought he’d been doing everything he was supposed to lately. Tried talking to Kai the way he should have in the first place. So when Marcellus approached him with whatever ‘sprout’ he was talking about, Oz found himself a bit confused. “What are you talking about? Nero usually keeps his comments to other dweeb Halo users.”

Then he was even more puzzled. “I’m sorry, Mermaids?”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

He calmed himself, once again, and he went silent for a second. Still irked, but the tension leaving his neck, veins disappearing from his skin. The major threat was gone, but there was still something murky hanging over their heads. “The blond one, genius.”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

@drakeofoz

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Are you fucking insane?” First remaining calm, he stopped and snapped quickly, forehead getting scarred by seemingly permanent frowns. Dark lines, veins under his eyes. All it lacked was a few fangs out of his mouth, but with the current state, it was only a matter of time. “I see one more filthy sprout of yours walking around and barking at me, I will feed all of you to the fucking mermaids!”

[lylawaterman-deactivated2016050]

Lyla raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Do I want to die? Is that rhetorical since I’m already dead, or can I die twice? Or was that rhetorical?” she widened her eyes at Marcel and immediately turned towards Seifer, who was giving her a look. 

She shrunk back and smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t know who I was speaking to. My apologies.”

[cybervamp]

As she kept talking Seifer closed his eyes wincing in pain. She had a point but this was not the person to raise that point to. “No she does not,” he said after her spiel. She then realised what was going on thank god. So how was he going to make his next move to see if he can diffuse the situation further. “I don’t think she is going to speak to you in that way again. Please don’t kill my sister,” he told him only thinking this to be the best term for it just now. 

[marcelluseickenhorst]

He felt his temples pulse twice as she continued to speak, and his muddy eyes focused on her, not even blinking. “Don’t make me show you how to die again, Barbie.” Marcel wasn’t too happy, and there was pressure beginning to build right under the skin of his forehead, on the top left corner. But the ancient managed to give a brief look to the older of the midgets, then started slowly pacing towards his desk. “Take her out to bark somewhere else if you want her to see the sunset.”

[lylawaterman-deactivated2016050]

Lyla narrowed her eyes and watched the blood drip right in front of her face, the precise spot that she had just cleaned. Charming. 

Getting up from the floor, she dropped the sponge and crossed her arms. “Can I help you with something?”

[cybervamp]

Seifer was just about to get some beer for his halo session when he saw something that made him incredibly alarmed. “Oh shit!” he called out and walked in. 

“Uh Marcel. I apologise for what she has been doing but I don’t think Oz has gotten quite round to telling her who you are,” he told him. Seifer did not know who he was either until recently to be honest but he decided to leave that out. “Lyla this is Oz’s maker Marcel,” he told her giving her eyes to stop.

[marcelluseickenhorst]

It wasn’t that he cared very much about her ignorance as he continued to twist the blood out of the fabric looking at her without a word out of his mouth. And he wasn’t affected by Seifer’s words much either, but he stopped. “Is that so?” He questioned with his brows going up quickly. “But does she want to die?”

[lylawaterman-deactivated2016050]

“Um…okay then. I’ll ignore the fact that you’re trekking mud into the room - I’d be happy to clean that up for you…and yet.” 

“Are we going to just ignore the fact that you’re covered in blood? Isn’t that against the rules or something?

[marcelluseickenhorst]

Marcel took a deep breath, fighting off the urge to snap her tiny neck. He took a corner of his blood-soaked shirt and twisted it, letting the red liquid drip all over the floor.

[lylawaterman-deactivated2016050]

“I’m not annoyed, I’m cleaning. The floor is dirty.”, Lyla narrowed her eyes, looking up. 

Either quit staring and grab a sponge or move along. Or did you need something?”, she asked, raising her eyebrows.

[marcelluseickenhorst]

“I’ll give you a minute to think this through and rephrase.”

[silvanuseickenhorst]

Silas lit up a smoke, took a few drags, and blew on the embers to feed the little fire. Marcel had just declared their own personal little war. Silas didn’t like to turn it down, losing wasn’t in his cards. Silas had made it quick and easy, pressing the embers against his brothers skin. It’d heal. He’d probably enjoy the little ounce of pain that came along with it. “Oh, my bad. Bitch.” 

[marcelluseickenhorst]

It was just a short sting, his skin covered the wound quickly, and Marcel’s fingers brushed against the spot where his flesh just could have been seen. “Do you want me to make you eat it?” Asked he gesturing at the ruined cigarette. “Because I will. And you are going to eat it. And then I will turn you into fish food.”

[silvanuseickenhorst]

“Let’s do it. Staring contests were my favorite pastime.” He joked. Though, he had enjoyed deep thoughts sessions, sitting across from Marcel in silence, for hours. “Try to make me cry. I’d love to see you try.”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

But instead of actually starting a staring contest, like they basically agreed, Marcel reached out and quickly slapped his own brother, leaning forward with his a tiny curve in his lips. “Act like a bitch, get slapped like a bitch.”

[silvanuseickenhorst]

“Busting something, yeah.” The jokes were past old. He was young forever, which had its perks, though he’d never grow into his own. Those were things he had come to realize a long time ago. Far too long. He made do with what he had. “What are your plans, being the social little butterfly that you are.”

[marcelluseickenhorst]

“Being the social little butterfly that I am, I will probably find your progeny and stare at her till she cries. A pretty good plan for the whole weekend, if you ask me. But I can try doing that to you too, at least it’d be a challenge.”